Dating Games

by T. K. Leigh

  I take a bite, moaning at the buttery flavor of the impeccably prepared filet.

  “You really know how to tease a man, don’t you?”

  “Why? Am I teasing you?” I bat my lashes, thankful for the flirtatious atmosphere between us once more.

  “You have no fucking idea.”

  The tone of his voice hits me deep in my core. As much as I want to tear my eyes from his, I’m unable to, the tension cracking and sizzling. Why don’t I remember it being like this with Trevor?

  “So…” I clear my throat, my brain finally communicating with the rest of my body to look away from Julian before I throw myself at him without a single regard for the fact we’re in public. “Getting back to why we’re here.”

  “Yes?”

  “Why me? Especially considering you know I’m not exactly over my ex.”

  “That’s one of the reasons,” Julian answers nonchalantly. “Less drama. Less headache. I get the pleasure of the company of a woman who’s familiar with what it takes to be in a committed relationship and will be able to sell the idea that we’re in one. And I won’t have to worry about you wanting more than I’m willing to give.”

  “This begs the question of why you need to pretend to be in a committed relationship. Why aren’t you in one? You’re not one of those guys who thinks it’s his civic duty to screw as many women as possible, yet refuses to commit to anyone, are you?”

  “Certainly not,” he answers with a chuckle. “I’m just not interested in a relationship.”

  “At all?” I arch a brow. It reminds me of Chloe’s take on relationships. Maybe I should suggest they get together since it seems he has more in common with her. “Life is full of relationships,” I continue, pushing down the jealousy bubbling at the idea of Chloe and Julian hooking up, “even if they’re not the intimate type. You appear to be rather successful in whatever it is you do. You don’t get there unless you build business relationships.”

  “That’s different. We leave all emotions out of things to get the job done. It’s not personal.”

  “So you’re just not interested in a relationship that requires you to get too personal.”

  His expression pensive, he considers my statement for a moment before nodding. “Yes. I suppose that’s correct.” He brings his fork to his mouth, taking another bite of his lamb.

  “May I ask why?”

  “I’d rather you didn’t.”

  I sigh, lifting my glass. “Then I suppose you’ll have to find someone else to be your fake girlfriend.”

  His gaze turns steely, his jaw tightening. I’ve hit a nerve. “Suffice it to say, I don’t buy into the requirement that in order to be happy, you have to be in a relationship with someone. Some people aren’t cut out for that.”

  “And you think you’re one of them?” My voice is timid as I press on. The more I do, the greater the chance he’ll walk away.

  “I know I am. And that’s all I’ll say on the matter.”

  Silence falls between us, awkward and stiff. It’s the most distant I’ve felt around him since we met. In an attempt to ignore it, I push my food around my plate, my appetite disappearing.

  “As far as the other reason…”

  When I hear him speak again, I lift my eyes to meet his. “Pardon?”

  “I said one of the reasons you’re perfect for this is that I don’t have to worry about you falling for me. But there’s more.”

  “And what’s that?” My heart drums in my chest, his tone a stark contrast to the anger with which he spoke mere seconds earlier. I marvel at his ability to flip the switch so quickly.

  With extreme grace, he swirls his wine before bringing it to his mouth. My eyes instantly focus on his lips. I’m mesmerized by everything this man does. I should find comfort in the fact nothing will ever happen between us. Hell, these were my conditions, after all. Regardless, a twinge of disappointment settles in my heart at never knowing him on a more intimate level.

  “There was something in your voice as you informed the entire bar of your breakup. I can’t quite explain it. After twelve years, you’d think there would be anger, sadness, disappointment. But there was something else instead.”

  “Sarcasm?” I offer, recalling the bitterness that prompted me to share my heartache with complete strangers. I’m sure the alcohol didn’t hurt in that regard, either. No need to give me a truth serum. Give me a shot of tequila and I’d tell you the location of Jimmy Hoffa…if I knew it.

  “That’s not it.” He shakes his head. “I heard hope.”

  “Hope?”

  “Yes. And determination. Your ability to find humor about what could only be described as one of the most heartbreaking events of your life shows your strength of character. You didn’t go home, watch When Harry Met Sally, and gorge on Ben & Jerry’s.”

  I scoff, “Not by choice.”

  He studies me for a moment before speaking again. “I think it was. I may not know you as well as Chloe or Nora, but I’ve picked up on a few things. One of those is you only do what you want. If you didn’t want to spend time with me, you wouldn’t be here.”

  I lower my eyes, not wanting to acknowledge his statement bears a hint of truth. Two days ago, I never would have expected to be sitting here with him in this restaurant while Trevor looms a few tables away. Now I’ve barely thought of Trevor, all my focus on Julian. Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be.

  “Have I answered all your questions?” Julian asks when I remain silent. “Is there anything else you need to know before you agree to my proposal?”

  Lifting my head, I do my best to appear collected, as if he hadn’t weaseled his way under my skin throughout the evening by simply being honest and upfront with me. It’s more than I can say for Trevor as of late.

  “If I agree, I don’t want you to think it’s an open invitation to make out with me whenever it suits you.

  “I’ll be escorting you to fundraisers, charity dinners, galas, things like that. Not to a sex club.”

  “Well, that’s a shame. I’ll need to return my flogger and ball gag.”

  After momentarily scrutinizing me, Julian breaks into a hearty laugh, attracting the attention of a few of our fellow diners, Trevor included. There’s a hint of jealousy mixed with longing in his gaze. It makes me feel somewhat vindicated. A frazzled aura surrounds him, like he’s having trouble focusing on whatever Theresa’s saying because I’m sitting a few tables away with a very handsome, successful man. Then, not paying attention, he knocks his wine glass over, the red liquid spilling all over Theresa’s white blouse. Waiters rush to help clean up the mess, but the damage is already done.

  I turn my eyes back to Julian, struggling to reel in my smile. Maybe we can kill two birds with one stone.

  “In all seriousness, I promise not to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

  “Even if I say no kissing?”

  He blinks repeatedly, taken aback. “No kissing?”

  “Yes. At least on the mouth. I’m agreeable to a kiss on the cheek or forehead, but I’d rather we draw the line there.”

  He recovers his composure. “Any reason for that?”

  “It’s too…personal.” I fidget with my napkin in my lap, the soft texture comforting. “It seems I’m not built like you. I do get attached to people. As long as we have the line drawn at no kissing, I won’t forget what this is…a business arrangement.”

  “Okay.” He nods curtly after a moment of contemplation. “You have my word. No kissing on the lips.”

  “Really?” I cock my head.

  “You sound surprised. Why wouldn’t I agree?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Won’t people think there’s something amiss if they don’t see us kiss?”

  “Trust me, Guinevere.” His voice is smooth and confident. “There are other ways to demonstrate your desire. Kissing is the easy way out. There’s nothing suggestive about one mouth pressing against the other. No. Desire is in the way your bodies find each other, the way your eye
s darken with unmatched hunger, the way a shiver runs through you at the promise of what’s to come.”

  I swallow hard, doing my best to make it appear as if I’m not slowly losing my composure at his sensual words, to pretend I don’t already react that way whenever I’m in his presence. “Says the man who avoids committed relationships.”

  “I never said I was perfect.” He dabs his napkin against his mouth, making me incredibly jealous of a piece of fabric. “So no sex, no kissing. What are your other conditions?”

  “Right.” I square my shoulders. “An itinerary.”

  “An itinerary?”

  “Yes. I don’t like the unexpected. I’ve been a bit of a planner my entire life. Hell, I’d already planned my wedding to Trevor before we even met.” I laugh under my breath. “I tweaked a few things once we did meet, but that’s beside the point.” I return my gaze to Julian. “I like having a plan, knowing what’s expected of me so I can anticipate…things.”

  “Things?”

  “Yes. I’d like to know precisely the type of event and when I’ll be required to be…at your service.”

  “You’ll never be ‘at my service’, Guinevere,” he responds quickly. “But if a list of events makes you less on edge, I’m happy to provide one. I understand your job is important to you, so I’ll limit the events to weekends and holidays. I just ask you set aside Fridays through Sundays.”

  “We have our weekly staff meeting Friday mornings.”

  “Then you’ll leave right after. Is that agreeable?”

  “Yes. That’s fine. Viv is flexible with us working out of the office.”

  “Any other conditions?”

  I chew on my lower lip, recalling the list I’d come up with earlier in the evening. “A firm end date.”

  He nods. “No sense dragging this out longer than necessary. Come Labor Day, you’re free to return to your normal life. Anything else?”

  “No.” Those were my non-negotiable conditions. I thought he’d put up more of a fight over no sex or kissing. I guess I was wrong.

  “Okay then. Agreed on all points. Now I have a few conditions of my own.”

  “Such as?”

  “First, you’ll be staying in my beach house with me.” He leans closer, lowering his voice. “Don’t worry. You’ll have your own room and space. Anytime we’re not scheduled to be somewhere, you can do whatever you’d like. You won’t need to spend extra time with me. You can sit by the pool, go to the beach, whatever you like. Your free time is just that…yours.”

  “And your other conditions?”

  “It’s more of a…request.”

  I arch a brow. “And that is?”

  “I’d appreciate your word that you’ll commit to me for the duration of the summer and not end this arrangement early. I need a woman by my side for all the social events that fill the summer season in the Hamptons. So in the event Trevor has a change of heart and wants you back, I’d request you hold him off until the end of summer. After that, we walk away and never have to see each other again. By then, I’m hoping this project will be underway. I’ll make up a story about how you’re still in love with your ex, which isn’t a stretch, and we’ll go our separate ways.

  “So… What’ll it be, Guinevere? Will you be my fake girlfriend?”

  I stare into space, considering his proposition. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Trevor. Instead of the frantic energy that surrounded him before, he’s calm, he and Theresa seeming to laugh off the mishap. He brings her hand up to his mouth, peppering soft kisses against it. I don’t remember the last time he looked at me that way.

  Resolute, I return my attention to Julian. What do I have to lose? Trevor’s already moved on. Why should I torture myself by waiting for him to come to his senses? After twelve years, maybe I deserve to have some fun myself. A summer in the Hamptons at what I can only imagine to be a luxurious beach house may be exactly what the doctor ordered to mend my broken heart. What could possibly go wrong?

  “Yes, Julian. I’ll be your fake girlfriend.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Do I want to know whether tonight was just a coincidence?” I ask once we’re in the back seat of the town car and on the way to Chloe’s apartment.

  “Whatever do you mean, Guinevere?” Julian flashes a conniving smile.

  I blow out a breath, crossing my arms. “You know exactly what I mean, Julian. Trevor showing up at the same restaurant we happened to be dining at is a bit suspicious, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “New York’s not as big as people think.”

  Not saying a word, I narrow my gaze at him like my mother always did when she knew I was being purposely evasive.

  “And what would you say if I did plan it?”

  “First, I’d say you have impeccable stalker abilities. Perhaps that’s your true calling.”

  He curves his body toward me, grinning deviously. “Who said it’s not? You did figure out I have a secret kill room in Jersey City. You don’t lure people to a kill room without properly doing your research…or, as you referred to it, stalking.” He winks before leaning back against the seat.

  “That’s right. How could I forget about the kill room? Okay then, Dexter…”

  He laughs at my nickname for him, a twinkle visible in his eyes, even in the darkened car.

  “Care to share how you knew Trevor would be dining there tonight?”

  “Simple.” He rests his elbow on the center console, drumming his fingertips against the leather. “Theresa is actually a close friend of my neighbor in Southampton. They went to prep school together or something. I just so happened to see her post on Instagram yesterday that she’d bought a new dress for a dinner date with her beau. Friends asked where she was going, and she spilled. No information is too difficult to find out these days. Not with social media.”

  “So you did stalk her.”

  “Again, I prefer to call it research.”

  “Okay. So you knew where they’d be. How did you get a reservation? From what I know of that place, they have a waiting list a mile long. You need to book months in advance.”

  “That’s true, unless you know someone.”

  “And you know someone.”

  “I know a lot of people.”

  “But does Trevor know people?” My voice is low and wavers slightly. “Or did Theresa just go in my place?” I suck in a breath, another possibility crossing my mind. A more heartbreaking possibility. “Or was it Theresa’s date all along?”

  I never even considered that Trevor had cheated on me. He didn’t seem the type. Plus, we lived together. I would have noticed if he came home smelling of another woman’s perfume. Then again, there were plenty of nights he never came home at all. Was he lying to me the whole time?

  “Does it matter?”

  “What?” I shift my gaze to Julian.

  “Does it matter?” he repeats, this time more forcefully. “At this moment, right here, right now…” He brings his hands to cup my face, an intensity in his eyes causing a surge of desire to pool in my stomach. “Does…it…matter?”

  I swallow hard, trying to calm my racing heart, on the brink of insisting it does. Whether Trevor made that reservation for me or Theresa is the difference between me opening my heart to him again or constructing a wall and never allowing him in. But Julian has a point. All evening, I barely thought of Trevor and Theresa, despite them sitting mere feet away. Every ounce of my attention was devoted to Julian. I was in the moment with him. He was all that mattered.

  “No,” I say softly. “It doesn’t.” My words come out sounding surprised, and I am a little. Regardless, they’re true. Right now, there is no Trevor or Theresa. It’s just Julian and me.

  “Good.” He keeps my face in his hands for another moment before pulling away. The sudden lack of contact leaves me longing for more.

  Not wanting to let on, I clear my throat, pulling my cell out of my clutch. “Are there any pressing dates I should be made aware of now? Li
ke within the next week? I don’t have any vacation planned, and am able to work from out of the office, but I have a few big projects going on.”

  I shift my eyes to him when he doesn’t say anything right away. His brows are pulled in, an analytical gaze on his face as he seems to assess me. I’m not sure what to make of it. Then he sighs, relaxing into the seat.

  “This coming Thursday is July Fourth. The celebrations go all week, starting tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” My mouth becomes slack. “I have things I need to get done this weekend. I need to have a life outside of our arrangement.”

  “And I understand that. I’m not asking you to attend every single party with me. Just the important ones.”

  “And July Fourth is important.”

  He nods. “The annual Red, White, and Blue Gala.”

  “Gala?” I arch a brow. “Am I going to need a dress?”

  He laughs, his eyes dancing in amusement. “You’re going to need a lot of dresses, swimsuits, stuff like that. Some of these events will be formal, like Fourth of July. Others will be less so. There will be charity auctions, boat christenings, perhaps even some Ladies’ Tea luncheons you’ll most likely be invited to once word gets around you’re my girlfriend.”

  My stomach suddenly feels weighted down. Lowering my head, I fiddle with the hem of the dress I bought at a discount clothing store, inadequacy washing over me.

  “Do you honestly think this will work, Julian? This lifestyle you lead is vastly different from mine. Hell, for all intents and purposes, I’m homeless right now. The only reason I’m not on a street corner holding up a cardboard sign is because Chloe’s letting me sleep on the pullout couch in her den. The idea of anyone in your social circle accepting me is ridiculous. Don’t you think you’d be better off finding someone who knows the difference between the salad and fish fork?”

  With a smirk, he grabs my hand, stopping me from fidgeting. “The fact that you know some settings have both a salad and fish fork shows you’re not as inexperienced as you’d like me to believe. We may not know each other well, but the instant I saw you, I knew you were the only person who could do this with me. The only woman I’d want to do this with.” He brings my hand to his lips, treating my skin to a delicious kiss. “So bury your doubt. Your unabashed confidence is what caught my attention. Don’t let the idea that you’re not good enough, like Trevor made you think, take it away. You are good enough. Hell, you’re better than most people can ever dream to be. Don’t forget that. Okay?”