10. Wade

Despite the numerous obligations I had, all I could do was sit and stare between my clock and the glass that separated my office from Ray's. She'd pulled the blinds back up and although I didn't know why, it made me feel like she might be more open—to a plan, to suggestions and ideas, to me.

I went over it in my head, running through the ways I could propose it to her. This will benefit us both. It's only for a few weeks. You can go back to hating me after. I was thoroughly confident she'd said yes, after all, she had no reason to say no. I just had to do it right, and doing it right meant getting her out of the office and somewhere more casual, somewhere she could relax and not feel so pent up. A place she wouldn't have the chance to go otherwise.

At twelve o'clock on the dot, I pressed the little intercom button and leaned over to the microphone. "Did you do as requested today, Blunder Bunny?"

The surprise of hearing my voice made her stiffen. She turned in her seat toward the glass, her gaze narrowing at what was only a reflection of herself, and motioned with her hand to the tight, black dress that covered her flesh. Professional, but a little nicer than her everyday wear. I worried she'd push back on my email last night and wear something a little more formal, but she hadn't.

Obviously, she mouthed.

"Perfect. Let's go then."

Where?

"Lunch."

————

Ray had insisted on driving separately. Why she didn't want to ride in my Lamborghini Aventador and preferred her nearly twenty-year-old Toyota was beyond me. I didn't want to tell her exactly where we were going, so she'd made a deal: she would follow me, and I wouldn't break the speed limit. Neurotic to the bone.

I got out as she pulled in behind me, brakes screeching and something clunking beneath the body. Her passenger-side window was halfway down, and when she turned off the car without putting it up, it clicked that the power motor inside of it was likely shot.

"Looks like snow," I said. I pointed to the sky through my fog of breath before pointing at her open window. "Clouds are rolling in."

She turned her gaze upward, cursing, and pulled her phone out. Glaring down at it in frustration, I could only assume she was checking the weather before shoving it back into her purse. "You could have taken me somewhere that has a parking garage."

"Or you could have just ridden with me."

Her glare turned venomous while she circled her car, stopping in front of the trunk and pulling at least five times before the latch gave way. She rummaged for a moment before sheepishly pulling out a large, black trash bag. "I prefer to drive myself in case I need to leave suddenly."

I leaned back against my car and watched as she maneuvered the bag around the exterior of the passenger door, hooking in at the far side and stretching across the open part of the window. "Have you considered getting that fixed? The motor's probably shot, but it shouldn't be that expensive."

She grunted as she slammed the door, locking the bag into place. "Wouldn't be expensive for you." She turned to me, her hair swishing in its ponytail, and clutched the sides of her jacket. "Can we go inside now? It's freezing."

Her lips parted, little puffs of fog forming before her face. She must have been cold the entire ride over considering how red her nose and cheeks appeared. For just a second, I allowed myself to get lost in thought. If she were anyone else, if she wasn't so uptight and bratty, if she wasn't so serious, I'd take her. I'd add her to the list. Fuck her when she wanted me to, treat her when she wasn't with me. But she wasn't a bunny. She was an employee, mature beyond her years, likely from the life she had to deal with.

Which was why I wanted to take her out.

"Yeah," I breathed, shaking away the brief idea of her naked body on my desk and nodding toward the entrance. "Let's go."

————

The hostess led us to a quiet table in a back corner near the windows, facing the mountains. Shortly after sitting down, a waiter greeted us, asking if we had any questions about the menu and wine list before taking our order. After a minute or two he returned, presenting a vintage bottle of Bordeaux to me before nodding and corking the bottle. He poured a sample into my glass and I thanked him as I sniffed and swirled before tasting. Upon my approval, he poured some into Ray's wine glass before adding more to mine.

After an awkward silence filled with sips of wine Ray finally spoke. "Why is it so empty in here?" she asked, glancing around at the few people scattered at different tables. "I would expect a place like this to be packed."

Just then the waiter arrived with our meals and after confirming we were satisfied, smiled and walked away.

I chuckled and sliced into my rack of lamb. "I may have requested they open early. They don't normally run a lunch service."

She froze, fork halfway to her open mouth, and stared at me. "You can just do that?"

I nodded.

"Jesus. Talk about abuse of power."

I shrugged and tapped the base of her fork with the back of my knife, reminding her to actually eat her bite. "Frasca's one of my favorite restaurants. I'm arguably one of their most frequent patrons and I pay for more than what I receive. It's not as abusive as you think it is."

"Yeah, well, you don't see McDonald's opening early just for me," she mumbled.

"McDonald's is open twenty-four-seven."

"Do you have to do that?" she snapped, her glare sharp enough to cut glass as she watched me swig my wine.

"Do I have to do what?"

"One-up me."

"I'm not one-upping you. I'm teasing you." I lifted the bottle of Bordeaux, careful not to spill a drop of the far too expensive wine and tipped the bottle toward her untouched glass before refilling mine. Maybe I amone-upping her.

"You can have my glass," she said, pushing it toward me with two fingers at the base of the stem. "I don't drink and drive."

"Just have a sip." I pushed it back.

"No, thank you."

"It's an expensive vintage. I guarantee you've not had a wine like this."

"I'm sure I haven't. I don't drink and drive."

I sighed and gave up. She was like a brick wall, impossible to penetrate and too high to climb, and unfortunately for me, she didn't have any bouldering holds attached to it.

"Why am I here, Wade?" she asked around a mouthful of potatoes. "You're keeping me from doing my job."

"I know and that part's stressing me out, to be fair," I laughed. I smoothed out my napkin in my lap, opting to take a break from my food and instead indulge in the wine. I'd mentally prepped myself for this moment, running through every scenario in my head. I ensured I knew the atmosphere, how it would go down, how I would sell it. It was starting, it that was hard, but she'd given me my in. "I have a proposition for you."

"Oh god."

"No, no, I think you'll like it," I grinned, taking a swig of my wine. "Remember how I asked you to cancel my bunny dates? How I needed to clean up my act and look more serious for the wedding in order to get an investor?"

She nodded as her brows came together, eyes narrowing. She looked suspicious, and to be honest, I couldn't blame her.

"Here's the problem with that. None of them are good candidates for passing as a serious partner, and I think you know that. I think that's why you haven't chosen someone for me yet," I explained. I studied her face, watching the little muscles move, analyzing every change in her expression. "On top of that, I don't think there's a single one that wouldn't be recognized by the resort staff. I don't want there to be any question that whoever I bring is just a fling. Chloe's future in-laws are old-fashioned, and since they're the ones I'm trying to onboard, I need to appeal to them. And so the other day, when you came into my office so focused on making sure your mother had her bills paid, something clicked."

"I… don't understand."

"That's fine, just listen." Another sip of wine, another confidence boost. "I think you'd be the right fit for something like this. You're beautiful. Physically, you fit right in with the women I normally go for. It would be believable. But you're so much more serious than them, more mature. You don't give off the vibe of a passing fling. Together, I think you and I can sell it, ensuring that I can get my hands on that investment."

Her eyes grew wide and she opened her mouth to speak, but I held up my hand to stop her.

"I know what you're thinking—how would we sell it?I've figured that out too," I continued, pushing her wine back toward her in case she needed it. "We go on a few dates. Let the media see us, as much as I hate that. We'll share a bed for appearances in case anyone follows us back to my house. I'll pay for the twenty-four-seven care for your mom in the meantime. We make it look as real as possible in the next few weeks to outsiders."

"Wade—"

"I have some rules, though, and I know damn well you'll have your own. Let me go over mine and then you can counter, okay?" I grinned, and she gave me nothing in return. "The biggest one: don't fall in love with me. That might be a little tricky, but I'm sure you can handle it. Also, keep this on the down low at work. If people find out, fine, but I don't want to be rubbing this all over the office. You'll have to be okay with public displays of affection, but those won't go beyond a kiss here or there, unless you want it to."

Her hands balled into fists, scraping her fork against her plate as she clutched it. "Wade."

"You'll be compensated for your time, of course. Every hour you spend helping me with this will count as overtime, so two and a half times your base rate. You need the money, so this would really work in your favor."

"Wade. What the?—"

"Plus, you kind of owe me for slamming into me on your skis?—"

She stood abruptly, bumping against the table and making the wine sway. I caught it just as it began to fall. "You very well could be the worst man I have ever met in my entire life," she snapped. She leaned toward me, one pointed finger aimed at my face and one fist against the table. The skirt of her dress rose just a hair, her stocking-covered legs a little more visible. "How dare you."

"Ray, calm down," I hissed. I didn't understand why she seemed so upset. I'd just offered her even moremoney than her already generous salary, offered her a chance to make up for running me over, and offered her more stability for her mom. How was this a bad thing?

"No, I'm not going to calm down," she cautioned, her voice rising. "You don't even get it, do you? How much of an asshole you are."

"I'm offering you?—"

"No. Don't. You're asking for myhelp and taking pity on me in return." She glanced around, taking note of the people staring directly at us. "You act like pretending to be in a relationship with you would be fun, as if I've been pining after you for weeks and now's my chance to get a little taste of you. It's disgusting. It's workplace harassment, really. And worst of all, it's just fucking sad."

I didn't know what to say to that. It felt like she was twisting my words, taking them in all the worst ways possible, instead of seeing it as an opportunity. I was going to payher for her time, for God"s sake. "You're taking this completely the wrong way," I said quietly, trying to get her to lower her own voice and calm down.

She only bit back harder. "No, youdon't understand how demeaning this is." She grabbed her coat from the back of her chair, throwing it over her shoulders in a huff. "I'm not one of your fucking bunnies. Grow up and figure this shit out yourself."

She turned, her ponytail flying, and walked toward the exit, leaving me alone at the table with two sets of lamb, a bottle of wine, and at least ten pairs of eyes trained on me. Great.