My first instinct was an enthusiastic, resounding yes. Not having to worry about Greenfield’s bills would take a load off my shoulders.
But the exhilaration lasted only a minute before warning bells clanged between my ears.
If something sounded too good to be true, it probably was.
“Thank you, but I can’t.” The words were painful to say, but they were for the best. “Paying all of Maura’s fees…it’s too much.”
Was it stupid of me to turn down his payment offer when I so desperately needed it? Maybe. Especially when I knew paying for her care wouldn’t put a dent in his wallet? Probably.
If he were anyone else, I might’ve accepted, considering my circumstances. But between the initial lowered rent and our laughable deal for even lower rent after Jules moved out—taking care of his plants did not equate to the thousands of dollars he let slide every month—I already owed him too much.
And my gut told me that when it came to men like Christian Harper, the less one owed them, the better.
Because eventually, the payment would come due, and it would cost more than all the money in the world.
Christian took the refusal in stride. “I understand. Then let’s amend the deal. If you act as my companion, I’ll act as your boyfriend.”
My heart leapt. Now that was a more balanced arrangement.
Still, I shouldn’t.
It was wild and absurd and utterly ridiculous if I thought too hard about it, but…Christian Harper as my (fake) boyfriend. If that didn’t explode my follower count, nothing would.
“With a stipulation, of course,” he added.
Of course.
“What stipulation?”
“You are not, under any circumstances, to show my face on social media.”
My excitement fizzled faster than a firework in water. “That defeats the whole purpose of what I’m trying to do.”
Christian’s face could sell out stadiums and theaters. Not showing it off online would be a monumental waste.
“Based on what you told me, it’s the perceived relationship that matters, not who the other person is.” He tapped a finger on my phone. “Social media is a form of voyeurism, and couples are more interesting than individuals. It’s the unfortunate truth. But people also love a little mystery. You can show my hand, my back, any part of me except my face. It won’t diminish what you’re trying to do. It might even help.”
“But…” Your face is so pretty. “People will know it’s you if we attend events together, so what’s the point of not showing your face?”
“I have no problem with people knowing we’re together.” The smoothness of his words wrapped around me like a silken scarf. “However, I keep the details of my personal life private and my digital footprint as clean as possible.”
I shouldn’t be surprised. Christian was a cybersecurity expert, so his aversion to social media and sharing data online made sense.
Still, I found it hard to believe anyone in this day and age could keep all photos of themselves off the internet.
“Huh.” It was too late for me. My digital footprint was so large it could qualify for its own zip code. “Can’t relate.”
A smile flickered over his mouth. “Do we have a deal, then?”
“As long as you agree to my conditions as well.” This time, I was the one who smiled at his flash of surprise. “You didn’t think you were the only one who got to make the rules, did you?”
“Of course not.” Lazy amusement surfaced in his eyes. “What are your terms?”
I ticked them off on my fingers. The bartender was serving customers at the other end of the bar and no one was sitting near us, so I wasn’t worried about eavesdroppers.
“One, we engage in physical contact only when necessary. Handholding is okay. Kissing is permitted on a case-by-case status. No sex.” I peeked at Christian to see if that would be a dealbreaker. His expression remained impassive, so I continued.
“Two, we continue the arrangement as long as it’s beneficial to both of us. If either of us wants to end it for whatever reason, we give the other two weeks’ notice. And finally…” I took a deep breath. “We remember what this is. A fake relationship. That means no catching feelings and no falling in love with each other.”
I didn’t think Christian would fall in love with me, and I doubted I would fall in love with him, but it was good to set the right expectations. It kept things from getting ugly down the road.
A soft laugh rumbled from his throat. “I accept those terms. I’ll draw up the contract tonight.”
“A written contract seems like overkill.”
“I never make a deal without one.” He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a dealbreaker?”
Part of me wasn’t comfortable with a formal contract for something so fluid, but another part agreed it was the smart thing to do. It would lay out the ground rules in clear terms and protect both of us.
Just in case.
“No. A contract is fine.”
“Good. And don’t worry, Ms. Alonso.” Laughter remained in Christian’s voice as he lifted his glass to his lips. “I don’t believe in love.”