Page 34 of Cinderella Is Faking It

“Let me cook dinner for you,” he said after clicking his earbud again.

I snorted. “No thanks.”

“Let me cook dinner for you. No peanuts.”

Yeah, because that was the only reason I’d say no. “I have plans.”

“I didn't say when.”

“I’ll have plans then, too. Because I have a boyfriend and I have a cat and I have to make sure the whole Montgomery family business stays afloat andyou, Beck, don't fit into my life.”

“See, I think I do.” He leaned against the counter, grinning at me with that stupid mischievous spark in the corners of his lips.

I narrowed my eyes at him, curiosity winning out. “How so?”

“Because you probably don’t talk to anyone the way you talk to me. Because you don’t like me enough to care about my opinion, which makes me the perfect person to talk to about orgasms and sex toys and your Jane Austen crush and the fact that you want white ducks at your wedding.”

“I never said I want white ducks at my wedding.”

“You did. After Emma and Clueless, you made me put on the Notebook even though you were basically sleeping. And you shot up straight in bed at the lake scene to tell me you needed white ducks at your wedding. And when I asked who you were marrying, you said Mr. Knightley but - and I quote - the hot Emma Approved version.”

Well, that explained my dream about walking down the aisle of an old English church in a feathered gown. Before I had the chance to answer, Beck was back on his call. “If you’re just going back and forth on this, I have another important meeting to get to. Send me the solution you agree on by ten or I’m dropping the whole division.” He clicked his AirPod off and tossed it on the keyboard before walking over to me and bracing his hands on the counter. “So, dinner on Friday?”

“Why are you still talking to me about this? Didn’t you just say you have another important meeting to get to?”

“I blocked an hour between eight and nine. Figured you’d be awake by then.”

“Oh.”Iwas the important meeting. I cleared my throat, suddenly way too aware of my bare face, and my hand-brushed hair, and the ungodly amount of cream cheese I’d heaped onto my bagel. “Welcome to my meeting. Hi.”

“Hi,” he chuckled, “dinner on Friday?”

“No.”

“You’re making this really hard for me.”

“Well, no, I do actually have plans on Friday. My friend has a small scene in a new Netflix show that drops on Friday. It’s her first proper, paid acting gig, so my friends are coming over for a watch party.”

“Saturday?”

“I can do Saturday,” I said. Wait. Had I just agreed to let him cook me dinner? I’d gotten too caught up in the back and forth of the negotiation.

“It’s a date.”

“Not a date!” Ohmygod. Maybe he had some pheromone shampoo? I’d have to check his bathroom next time I was- Nope. No. Hell no. I was never ever setting a foot in his bedroom or bathroom again. What was wrong with me?

My ringtone chimed up and I hadn’t even clocked my phone by the time Beck unplugged it from an outlet in the kitchen and handed it over. Parker’s name and goofy grin lit up the screen. For once, my shoulders stiffened at the sight of his caller ID, and I clicked him away. “You charged my phone,” I said even though I could practically hear Beck’s very loud thoughts filling the kitchen.

“Same charger as the Bluetooth speaker,” he replied.

We looked at each other, the unasked question crackling in the air between us like a game of who-blinks-first. The thing was that I couldn’t talk to Tab or Defne about the argument we’d gotten into without admitting to them that Parker wasn’t completely off about Beck, without sharing what had happened at Gavin Decker’s birthday party. I wasn’t ready to tackle all their questions about that.

“If I tell you, you can’t be all Beck about it.” I pointed my fork at him.

“What does that mean?”

“You have to be objective, or at least a little unbiased. No smug replies.”

“I can’t be unbiased when it comes to you, Blondie.” I glared at him, and he held up his hands in defeat. “But I can reign it in.”

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