Page 37 of How He Got the Girl
“Wish me luck, boy.”
He thumps his sandy tail in response, almost as if he knows I’m going to need it.
I step onto the front porch and lock the door behind me as Griffin pulls up in the same black car that picked me up yesterday. He jumps out of the driver’s side and jogs over to me. Griffin Reynolds has no business looking this good. He’s wearing dark jeans, a gray pullover, and casual oxford shoes. The outfit gives off a classic winter vibe that perfectly complements mine.
Then there are his aviator sunglasses. He takes them off, and it’s like a slow video montage in my mind. Yep, I’m in trouble. I cannot be attracted to my fake boyfriend.
But then there’s his five-o’clock shadow that’s doing him all sorts of favors, accentuating his jawline and drawing my gaze to his lips—lips that I once found very kissable. But not anymore.
I avert my gaze.
“Hey, beautiful.” Griffin smiles at me. “Did you do something different with your hair?” He reaches up, running his fingers along one of the curls.
“Yeah, Alyssa did it for me. They’re more tame than usual.”
“I love your curls, tamed or not.” He looks at the ground. “Are you ready for our photoshoot?”
“What would you do if I said no?”
“Cancel this whole thing.”
I raise a brow. “Really? You’d just let me back out just like that?”
“I would never pressure the force of nature that is Veronica Mallory Porter to do something she didn’t want to. Icouldn’t even if I tried.” He shoots me a crooked smile. One that I’ve never seen on the big screens or in his interview videos. The same tilted one I saw in a coffee shop years ago, when I believed he was a different man.
This is a smile he gives lots of women, I remind myself.This is fake.
“And don’t you forget it.” I gesture toward his car as we begin walking toward it. “Where’s Ted?”
“I gave him the rest of the day off.” Griffin opens the passenger door for me, and I get in.
“Really?” I set my purse by my feet as he closes my door.
He rounds the car and gets in the driver’s seat. “I’m a simple man from Tennessee. I can drive myself around.”
“Whatever you say, Griffie. Or, should I say, Mr. Razzle-Dazzle?”
A blush covers his cheeks. Seeing him embarrassed brings a smile to my lips. “You found it?”
“Of course, I did.” I’m offended he didn’t think I would. I found the video of his toothpaste commercial almost immediately after our hot chocolate date. They really should hire women to do online detective work for the FBI, CIA, or even dating shows. Goodness knows some of those contestants need better vetting.
“There wasn’t a chance I would miss out on making fun of you forever.” I clear my throat, ready to mimic his commercial from a few years back. “‘You handle the razzle, we’ll bring the dazzle. Dazzle the world with your smile when you use…’” I do jazz hands for emphasis. “‘DazzlePaste.’”
“How many times did you watch that to have it memorized?”
“None of your business.”
“Maybe they should’ve hired you instead.” Griffin laughs.
“I would never want to take your star role from you.”
“She has a sense of humor, folks.” He claps.
I roll my eyes. “Always with the jokes.”
“We only get one life to live. Why not focus on the humor and bright side of things?”
“You have a point.”
