Page 71 of From Ice to Grace
“Make it non-alcoholic please,” Avah adds without looking at me.
The waiter nods and retreats. Avah finally lifts her gaze to me.
“If we’re going to do this, we might as well start with your other…PR problems.”
I smirk. “So tonight we’re working on women and booze. Great.”
She doesn’t even flinch as she picks up her menu and starts perusing the options.
“What else did you think your agent meant by getting a woman who’s marriage material? When you find the one you want to spend your life with, you have no need to keep yourself sedated or…occuppied.”
I set my menu down. Her words stir frustration as they settle.
“It’s very early in the evening for you to start slinging insults, Snowflake. We’re supposed to act like we’re in love, not shoving each other off a cliff.”
The waiter returns with our champagne, pouring while we keep our eyes locked across the table. The tension hums between us, practically thick enough to cut with the butter knife beside my plate.
The waiter finally leaves and we both lean forward.
“What did you think this was going to be, Declan?” she asks, her voice sharp. “This agreement doesn’t magically change who we are. You’re going to have to actually do the work.”
“Yes, I know,” I grit out. “What I didn’t expect was to be reminded of my screw-ups before we’ve even ordered our food.”
Her lips press together, and for a beat, neither of us moves. The soft conversation and clinking of glasses fills the dining room as we stare each other down.
“Maybe that was a bit harsh,” she says, her voice softer. She looks down at her napkin in her lap. “I just had a very rough day with Vivienne sending me home like that. And now I’ll be without a job for who knows how long. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I’m sorry.”
Something in me stands down and I lean back in my chair, keeping my gaze on her wondering what made her retreat. She’s never retreated before.
“Are you worried about getting by without a job?” I ask, gently tapping my knuckles on the table. “Because you shouldn’t be.”
She looks up at me, carefully assessing. “I have money saved up, I’ll be fine for a while.”
I nod, knowing she’s stubborn. I’m assuming she’ll be the same when it comes to money.
“We’re here to figure this thing out, Snowflake, so we might as well start with finances.”
She carefully shifts her butter knife, then adjusts her water glass before meeting my gaze.
“The fact that we’re adding immigration to this, makes this agreement a bit more complicated than it would’ve been if it were only for PR reasons.”
“That’s true,” I say. “I still think this is the best idea I’ve ever had.”
She swallows, like she’s uncomfortable. “I spoke to an immigration lawyer today. We need a joint account, bills in both our names, shared insurance…Are you sure you still want to do this? I feel like you’d have to work harder and get less out of this deal.”
I lean forward, giving her a reassuring smile. “Paperwork is nothing. You’re the one who’d have to physically show up and act like you’re in love with me, day in and day out. Plus, you’re saving my career and my position on the team. I’m not really worried about anything else.”
She nods, taking a sip of her water. “So no backing out?”
“Til death do us part,” I add, letting the words hang between us as I lift my champagne glass toward her, waiting for her to meet me in a toast.
She rolls her eyes, a small smile tugging on the corner of her mouth. “You’re an idiot.”
I wait a few seconds before she lifts her own glass and clinks it against mine. A triumphant smile spreads on my lips as I take a sip of the bubbling grape juice.
“Since we’re getting married, ordering champagne wasn’t a bad call,” she adds with a shrug. “I’m sorry about what I said.”
I swallow down my pride, twirling the stem of the glass between my fingers, the bubbles in the drink glinting. Fighting with her isn’t going to be productive in any way. As much as I hate what she did, she has a point.
