Page 70 of Tomorrow Belongs to Us
“Does that happen often?” I ask, before I can shut my mouth and stop.
“Are you judging me?”
“No.”
“Then why the question?”
I’m at a loss. I want to be her fake date, but I also don’t want to ruin my chances. She’s asked me for a favor, and it’s one I very much want to do. Answering her question might get me in a whole heap of trouble I don’t need. “No reason.”
“So, do you want to do it or not?” she asks, taking a sip of her coffee.
“I can do that. Sure. I would love to.”
“It's only a fake date.”
“I heard you. I’ll be glad to be of service.”
“Thank you. You can scoot back over to your side of the table now.”
I raise an eyebrow. She looks more relaxed, and there might even be a hint of a smile on her face. Was this why she wanted to meet me, to get me to come to her work event?
“Are you scared I might make a move?”
“You'd be stupid to do such a thing. We’re not getting up to anything.”
“You’re sure of that?” I ask her as I move back to my seat.
“I’d place bets on it.”
I nod. I’m grateful that she has asked me for this favor. “Give me some background. How long have we been together?”
She swipes a hand across her cheek, contemplating my question. “I didn't think this through. I told Preston I had a date but nothing else.”
“You tell him it was me?”
“I did not.”
I don’t like that reply. “I see. Do you have a list of potential fake daters to go through?”
She shakes her head. “You’re the only one I’ve asked.”
My insides do a little tango in celebration. There might be a chance that Megan wants this, even as she pretends not to want to have anything further to do with me. “I’m sure he’ll remember me,” I say, already looking forward to seeing this scumbag.
“You're hard to forget. You leave an impression wherever you go. The security guys at LuLu’s aren't going to forget you anytime soon.”
I wince. “Sorry about that.”
“You stood up for me. You were concerned about me. You looked through the window and you made sure I was okay.” Her cheeks color as she says this. “Thank you.”
My heart swells at her words. “You’re welcome. You must get a lot of attention,” I counter.
“From a lot of idiots, mostly.”
“Always leave it to the wise, older man to set things right.”
This makes her smile. “Don't get into a fight, please,” she begs.
“I’ll be as good as gold. What should I wear?”
