Chapter 9 Zane #2
“And you don’t?” I ask, making Ashlyn’s expression short circuit.
“Of course not. I don’t even know you,” she says.
“On the contrary. You know me very well,” I say, taking a sip of the drink I am going to have to go on a water fast for two days to combat. “Every inch of me, if I recall.”
Her look of surprise shifts to hostility as she leans in and talks through her teeth. “Sex does not count as getting to know someone.”
“Maybe not for you,” I say, still smirking despite the danger it puts me in.
“Alright, fine,” she finally breaks. “The relationship is “real,” but that doesn’t mean it comes with all the benefits.”
“Okay,” I nod. “Which ones are we excluding?”
“We will be publicly involved…” she says, and I can’t help but laugh at the way she makes it sound so professional.
“Are we entering a relationship or a legal contract?” I ask, and before the last word is even out of my mouth, she is placing a paper and a pen in front of me. “Oh my god, you’re serious.”
“Hell yeah, I’m serious,” she lets out. “You threatened to have me arrested.”
“I wasn’t actually going to do it,” I say as I skim the contract. “Wait. Is there a waiver at the bottom here?”
“Yes. Because the last time I was with you, you destroyed personal property. This clause will ensure that if you break any more of my cameras or anything that belongs to me, I have the right to do something about it.”
“Need I remind you that you broke my pergola?” I ask.
“That was an accident,” she argues.
“An accident that would never have happened if you hadn’t been trespassing on my property,” I point out.
“This is why we have a contract,” she says. “No more threatening to have me arrested. Now, are you ready to sign?”
“Yeah, yeah,” I mumble with a grin as I read the rest of her cute little contract. But then I stop. “Hold up. What’s this about not coming on to you?”
“Exactly what it sounds like,” she says. “I understand we might have to get mushy in public. But as soon as the doors are closed, there will be no trying to get in my pants.”
“That’s a two-way street,” I say, pointing the pen at her.
“I’m aware. And trust me, I have no intention of getting…involved…again.”
“Too good?” I grimace.
“What?” she snaps.
“Did I set the bar too high?”
Ashlyn’s normally sea-glass green eyes transition to a dark emerald. “Sign the papers and you have a deal.”
I bite back a smile and sign my name. Then I slide it across the table and grab my drink, which, by the way, is totally worth the bloat.
“So I gotta ask,” I say after she folds the paper up and neatly slips it into her purse. “What made you change your mind?”
Ashlyn looks at me with an expression that shows she’s clearly hiding something, but won’t expose what exactly. “Let’s just say you’re not the one who could benefit from this arrangement,” she says, taking a sip of her drink.
“Even though you just banned all the best kinds of benefits?” I jab just to be an ass.
But Ashlyn just sits back with a salty smile. “Trust me. You have your reasons, and I have mine.” She takes a sip and then swallows quickly. “Oh. And one more thing.”
Of course.
“The security cameras you have littering your whole house? Those have to go.”
I nearly spit out a mouthful of blackberries at that. “You want me to take down my security cameras.”
“Most of them, yes,” she nods. “Is that a problem?”
“Kind of, yeah,” I let out. “You do understand my profile in society, right? There’s a reason I live in a gated community surrounded by people of the same status. If I had my way, I’d live in a cabin in the mountains, but that’s how people like me get killed. I can’t just get rid of my cameras.”
“Like I said, just get rid of most of them. You can keep them on the porches. But the rest are overkill. Especially the ones that see into the bedrooms.”
I don’t love it, but as Ashlyn stares into my soul with the warmth of a king cobra ready to strike, I know there’s no sense in arguing.
“Fine,” I agree. “Anything else?”
“No, I think that about covers it,” she says.
“Great. Now we can clock out of work mode and enjoy our drinks. You hungry?” I ask scanning the QR code on the table.
“Kind of,” she admits, and I swear I see just the corner brick of her guard wall come down a little.
“You want appetizers?” I ask, scanning the menu for something that won’t completely destroy my maintenance.
“Alright,” she agrees.
We order a couple of things to share and then dive back into our drinks.
“Oh,” I swallow. “One more thing. Don’t worry about getting movers.”
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“Like a moving truck. For your things. My place is furnished.”
“Why would I need movers?” she asks.
“Because you’re going to be living with me,” I state.
“I never agreed to that,” she snaps back.
“Yeah, well it’s kind of a given if we are going to convince people that we are in love,” I say.
Ashlyn just laughs. “It’s one thing to convince people we are in a relationship. But I doubt I could ever fake being in love with you.”
Her comment stings a little, but I don’t take it to heart. As we eat our food, bantering back and forth, a smile holds its stance on my lips. Whether I intend to fall in love or not, I have every intention of making this “arrangement” as believable as possible. Contract or no contract.