“And you think I’m that someone?”
“You need money and a job. I need a convincing fiancée for one week. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement in my opinion.”
She stared at me, her expression unconvinced. “I’m sorry, but this is crazy as hell. I’m having a hard time taking you seriously right now.”
“Perhaps. But it’s also potentially lucrative for both of us.” I took another sip of my espresso. “And since you’re having a hard time, let me make this clearer for you. I’m offering you fifty thousand dollars for one week of your time.”
Her coffee mug froze halfway to her lips, and her eyebrows lurched up her forehead. “Fifty thousand dollars?”
“Yes.”
“To pretend to be engaged to you.”
“Yes.”
“To play house for one week.”
“That’s correct.”
She set down her mug carefully, as if it might shatter under the weight of my offer. “Mr. Holland?—”
“Adonis,” I corrected her. “If we’re to be engaged, you should call me by my first name.”
“Adonis,” she said slowly after clearing her throat. I was surprised by how my dick reacted to my name falling off her lips. “Again, this is crazy. I don’t know you. You don’t know me. How could we possibly convince any sane person we’re engaged, let alone in love?”
Her question was valid, and one I’d already considered. “You need a job that pays well and offers flexibility for your son. I need a partner who is intelligent enough to learn quickly and adapt to social situations. I saw how you handled yourself even whenbeing terminated—with dignity and restraint, until you thought you were alone.”
“You were watching me get fired?”
“I notice things,” I answered. “It’s how I was raised.”
I neglected to tell her that the moment I laid eyes on her, something inside me clicked. I also left out the part where I left the conference room and ran down two flights of stairs to catch her beautiful ass on that elevator.
She was quiet for a moment, studying me with an intensity that few people dared to do. Most found my gaze too intimidating to hold for long, but Simora Campbell had stopped looking away early on.
“Why should I trust you?” she finally asked.
“You shouldn’t,” I replied honestly. “You should have a lawyer review the contract I’ll have drawn up. But I’m a businessman, Ms. Campbell. I don’t make offers I don’t intend to honor.”
“And after the week is over?”
“We go our separate ways. You’ll be fifty thousand dollars richer, and I’ll hopefully have a new client worth fifty million.”
She took a deep breath, and I could see her calculating, weighing the risks against the rewards. The practical side of her was already convinced—fifty thousand dollars would change her life significantly—but something else was holding her back.
“What exactly would this week involve?” she inquired cautiously.
“Attending business dinners, a charity gala, perhaps a round of golf. Whatever it takes to convince Garrick and his board that we’re a committed couple with plans to marry.”
“And where would I stay during this week?”
“With me, at my penthouse.” I saw the alarm in her eyes and added quickly, “Separate bedrooms, of course. But we needto maintain the illusion at all times. Garrick has been known to make surprise visits.”
“And my son?”
“Mason can stay with us as well. I have plenty of room.” I paused, considering the logistics. “But during business meetings, you may want to arrange childcare.”
She nodded slowly, still processing. “I’d need to spend time with him each day and keep him in the routine we’ve created. He’s only four.”
