“Detailing . . . ?”
Rafe sighed again. “Like I said last night, my mother and sister-in-law are driving me up the wall with their matchmaking efforts. I’d like you to pretend to date me for up to the next six months. Then we’ll pretend you dump me, breaking my heart, leaving me so devastated, I’ll get at least another six months beyond that of reprieve from their hellish romantic machinations.”
He said it so deadpan, I almost burst into laughter.
“You want me to pretend to date you for six months and then pretend to break your heart?”
“Yes.”
“And just to be clear, you don’t expect sex?”
His nostrils flared. “Of course I don’t.” Then something flickered in Rafe’s gaze. “Though, I suppose, we might be required to occasionally show affection toward each other so that people believe we’re in love.”
Required to occasionally show affection toward each other? My lips twitched with the desperate need to laugh. “PG kissing and touching?”
Rafe cleared his throat, apparently uncomfortable. “I suppose.”
“Oh, I’ll need you to be perfectly clear in the contract about what it is we’re doing here.”
“Fine, PG kissing and touching will be required.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.” He glowered at me. “Anything else?”
Laughter tickled my throat. “Hey, this is your party.”
Rafe rolled his neck on his shoulders as if my mere presence stressed him. “Like I said last night, I’ll need you to be flexible with your schedule to accommodate our venture.”
“While I’m happy to prioritize this job over my others, I’ll need to know our schedule beforehand so I know not to take jobs that will interfere with this. Do you have an app that keeps your schedule, appointments, social calendar?”
“I have one for work, but not my social calendar, as you call it.”
“Then we’ll download one we can share. Anytime you update it, I’ll get a notification on my phone and vice versa.”
His brows pulled together. “That sounds very efficient.”
“You sound surprised.”
“You don’t seem like a person who would be very organized.”
I gave him a tight smile. “Just because there’s not a giant stick up my ass or because I don’t plan my life to its every inch doesn’t mean I’m not capable and organized. I have two jobs. I need to keep those straight.”
“Fine.” He nodded coldly.
“Fine.”
“Fine.” This time his voice held an edge as he hurried to order, “Don’t say ‘fine.’ ”
“You’re the one who keeps saying ‘fine.’ ”
He scowled.
I sighed. Boy, he was a barrel of laughs. So, so unbelievably beautiful to look at, but was it worth it to put up with his grim demeanor? Remember the money. “You’ll really pay me ten thousand dollars a month?”
“For some freedom, I’d pay more.”
The exhaustion in his eyes suddenly made me feel sympathy that I probably shouldn’t have. “I can’t believe your family would continue to do this to you if they truly knew what a strain it is on you.” Then something occurred to me. “Is it . . . is there another reason you perhaps don’t want to find a lady to settle down with?”
“Subtle,” he said dryly. “And no, I’m not gay. If I were gay, they’d be foisting every eligible gay man on me. It’s the fact that I’m thirty-three years old and alone that bothers them. I think they’re afraid if they don’t intervene now, I’ll spend my life alone forever.”
“And would you?”
“Of course.”
Curious, I leaned forward. “You don’t want a wife, a family?”
Rafe stared right through me. “Do we have a deal or not, Ms. Meadows?”
Okay, no personal questions. I considered him. “I won’t be required to change who I am for this role? Change my appearance, my personality?”
He studied me in such a way that my thighs pressed tight together in reaction. His expression was irritatingly unreadable as our eyes met again. “No. Just be you. I rather like the idea of giving them what they want at the same time as what they’ll never expect.”
My neck prickled. “What does that mean?”
“They’re expecting a society princess or a career woman.” His lips quirked up at the corners. “I’m looking forward to seeing how they react to you.”
Huh. My cheeks heated and an ache I didn’t like bloomed in the middle of my chest. I thought . . . yeah; I thought I’d definitely just been insulted. While it was a relief to know I didn’t have to pretend to be anything but myself, it reminded me that Rafe looked down his high and mighty nose at me. It gave me pause. “I have a few stipulations that I want written into the contract.”
He gestured for me to go ahead.
I straightened in my seat. “You will not mock, berate, or humiliate me in front of your friends and family. I won’t be anyone’s punch line or punching bag.”
Outraged, he fumed, “I would never.”
“Your niece’s party suggests otherwise. I overheard how you spoke about me to your sister-in-law.”
Something like remorse flashed across his features before he rearranged them into an imperious mask. “I promise it won’t happen again.”
“And just now? Am I supposed to ignore the fact that you want to use me to needle your family? Like I’m . . . someone who would offend them?”
Both his eyebrows rose. “Ms. Meadows . . . I . . . that’s not what . . . that’s not how I intended it. I just meant that you’ll be a surprising choice and it’s not every day I get to surprise my family. They think I’m predictable.”
“Oh.” That ache dissipated at his sincerity. “Okay.”
He shifted as if he was uncomfortable, and an awkward silence fell between us. Deciding we were better off sniping at each other than enduring this discomfiting weirdness, I announced, “Good. Now, in private, I don’t expect you to be Mr. Warm and Fuzzy, but I also don’t expect to be verbally abused.”
“What on earth . . .” he grumbled in exasperation as he sank back into his chair. “When have I verbally abused you?”
“You called my Scottish brogue awful. That I butchered the accent.”