7
Florence
"Thanks, Hettie." I smile as I close the door behind her. Josie's coming over this evening to discuss the details of our arrangement. I have a list of items we should cover and a standard NDA for her to sign that will protect me if she chooses not to do it.
Walking back into the dining room, I look around. Donna cleaned earlier, and everything looks good.
Marin stands up at the table. "Do you need anything else from me before I disappear?"
I roll my eyes. "You don't think I can handle a date on my own? I remember how to treat a woman, Marin."
She laughs. "Seeing as this is more like a business meeting than a date…" She stops, studying me. "You're actually nervous about this."
It feels more like a date.
"There's something about her. She has this uncanny ability to see through me." I glance at her. "Like you do, only different."
She raises an eyebrow. "I think this woman is going to break through your defenses. She's already melting you around the edges."
"It's not like that," I argue. "She's been in love with her best friend for decades. Unrequited. Her heart's not open for business."
Marin tsks softly in the back of her throat. "Keep telling yourself that, Florence."
An hour later, Josie's at my door.
"Hey. Come on in," I tell her.
She follows me into the living room.
"Can I get you something to drink?" I ask.
She looks around my large living room—the white leather sofa, the electric fireplace, and the wall full of books.
"Wow. Nice place." She eyes the bookshelf.
I take her elbow, laughing, and lead her to the table. "Let's talk about the details first, then you can look at my books."
She raises an eyebrow, looking at me. It strikes me again how tall she is.
"Okay." She gives herself a little shake. "Sorry. I forgot for a minute—that this isn't real." Her voice softens, and she looks a little disappointed.
"You don't have to do this," I point out. I pull out a chair for her. "Sit down. Do you want something to drink?" I ask again.
"Do you have whisky?" she asks, looking at me hopefully.
"Not in the house, but Marin is out grabbing dinner, so she can pick some up. Do you have a favorite brand?"
She bites her lip. "Not really. Don't make your staff go out of their way for me."
My staff?
"I don't have a staff, Josie—not at home. I have a PA. Well, and a housekeeper that comes twice a week," I admit. "I'm not sure who you think I am, but I'm not all that."
Her eyes light up with amusement. "Then why do you act like it?" She pulls the pile of papers toward her and pats the chair next to her.
"Sit down, Florence. If we're going to do this, we go into it as equals."
I can't remember the last time someone talked to me that casually.
I nod. "Okay."
I turn away from her, pulling my phone out to send Marin a text to grab whisky and dessert when she picks up our dinner. I take a slow deep breath before turning back and sitting down next to her.
She pulls the top document off the pile.
"English? What am I signing here?" Her eyes skim the document.
"That just says that you won't discuss our conversation tonight with anyone. To protect me if you change your mind or if we can't come to an agreement on all points. My lawyer told me not to discuss particulars until you'd signed."
She nods thoughtfully, focused on the single page in front of her. After a minute, she holds out her hand. "Pen?"
I want to be offended by her flippant expectation, but a quick glance around the table tells me Marin and Hettie dropped the ball.
I grab one from my office and bring it to her.
She signs with a flourish, then pushes the paper toward me. "So how does this work? I've never done anything like this."
I glance down to double-check that it's signed and dated. The title in front of her name stops me.
"Wait. You're a doctor?" My stomach sinks. This could negate everything.
"Relax, Florence. I teach at the university. I'm not under you." The corner of her mouth quirks. "Not in the professional sense, at any rate."
I close my eyes and force myself to take a breath. She's flirting with me.
"Marin will be delivering dinner in half an hour. I asked her to get some whisky to pair with dessert."
Her eyes light up at that.
"Hettie left me a list of things we should cover for the contract," I add.
She bites the inside of her cheek. "For not telling anyone about this, that's a lot of people who know. If you really want this quiet, you realize fewer people should know, right?"
I wave her concern aside. "It's Marin and Hettie. Probably the two people I trust most in the world." Well, I don't trust Hettie with everything, but as far as legal issues go, she's a gold mine to help me understand what I can and can't do, and what I can get away with. Attorney-client privilege has its perks.
"What's the first thing on your list?" she asks curiously.
"Duration. How long do we plan to keep this up? I think a year would be enough, but if you think you'll be over your friend sooner and want to date, we can agree on nine months. We'll add a clause about early termination to be safe."
"That's fine," she says. "What else?
"Public appearances." I meet her eyes. This is the most important part. "We have the charity gala in three weeks, and there are typically events every month or two. We should be seen in public together once or twice a month to make it look convincing."
"Who do you normally take to these events?"
"I normally go by myself," I say defensively. "I don't need anyone to complete me—or any of that shit."
Reaching over, she puts a hand on my arm. "That's not what I was saying, Florence." Her voice is warm, soothing. "It just doesn't seem like you to cave to this man."
"It's not just him," I point out. "It's been less than a week since I said no to him, and now the whole of Delmont thinks he and I have something going on." I exhale sharply. "I detest social media."
She squeezes my arm before letting go.
"I'm not the biggest fan either," she admits, "but Mel's fiancée is good at it. She'll help us counter his BS. I'm sure she'd be willing to help." Her eyes widen. "Actually, that would be a good way for us to be noticed. She's fairly high-profile. If we go out with them, it would definitely create a buzz."
"Who's this?" I ask curiously.
"Do you follow college sports much? She was on our gymnastics team a few years ago that won the national championship. Renna Lee. Although," she adds thoughtfully, "that might be a conflict of interest, since she and Mel both work for the hospital."
I don't generally have time for sports, but I remember the hype. "I remember it. I don't recognize the name."
"Serenity. The Serene Beam Queen."
"I think I remember her. She's the one who was good on that skinny beam, right? Is she a doctor now?"
She shakes her head. "That's her, but no. She's a surgical nurse."
Something about a case last year niggles at my memory.
"I don't think it would be a problem to be seen socializing with her, but I'll double-check with Hettie. We should be seen just the two of us a few times first though."
I pause. "I'll get you a credit card for clothes. For most of our 'dates' wear whatever you have, but for things like the charity gala, you can get a new dress."
"Or a pantsuit," she grins. "You can wear the dress; I'll wear the pants. Trust me, it'll give people something to talk about."
"How do you feel about public displays of affection?"
"Do I mind making out with you in public?" she teases. "Whatever you're comfortable with, I'm game."
"You have to say something if I make you uncomfortable. I don't want to push you into anything."
She laughs. "Florence."
Her eyes drop to my lips and linger.
"You're not going to make me uncomfortable. Although… I don't want the first time you kiss me to be in front of an audience," she says, her voice low.
I blink.
I'm not used to women being so forward. They're usually more intimidated. "I think we can arrange that." I force my eyes away from her full lips, licking my own. "We should talk about compensation as well."
"I don't want your money."
I study her. "I have to compensate you. I'm asking a lot of you."
She shakes her head. "I told you when we first met. I'm just interested in someone to spend time with. It can be as friends."
"So you want to hang out with me," I say dubiously. "I'm not exactly the epitome of fun times, Josephine." I call her by her full given name. I like the taste of it.
"How old are you?" she asks abruptly.
I blink. "It's rude to ask a woman her age."
Her laughter sends a rush of warmth through me. "If I'm your fiancée, I should know these things," she teases, her voice husky.
I bite my bottom lip. "Fake fiancée," I remind her drily. I brush off the heat in my belly. "I'm forty-two."
I release an inaudible sigh. Money would be easier. But I can try to make this work for both of us.
"Tell me what you mean by that—someone to spend time with. What does that look like to you?"
She shrugs, her eyes glazing over thoughtfully. "I don't know. A few times a week for a few hours. We could go out sometimes, or we could stay home. Your place—" She glances around the open floor plan, her eyes lingering on my books. "You can come to my place sometimes—if you want to, I mean. I don't live like this," she says with a sweeping look around.
Her shoulders slump forward. "Maybe this isn't a good idea," she says softly.
"You'd really rather spend time with me than get paid?" I ask incredulously. "Why? And why do you all of a sudden think this isn't a good idea?"
She picks up the pen, fiddling with it. I should have gotten her a drink. "I don't want your money."
She's already made that pretty clear.
"I originally met you because I thought we were looking for the same thing. Companionship. Friendship, even. But without the expectation of anything more. Potential maybe, but not expectation."
She swallows thickly.
"We can do that." I nod. I'm still not following. "But?"
"Florence, you don't have friends." Her voice is gentle, but it cuts. "You don't let anyone see who you really are. You're completely closed off." She looks at me for a long minute. "Do you have anyone you trust or care for that you don't pay?"
That's not fair. "Don't judge me for putting my career first," I say, my voice low.
"I'm not judging you, Florence. I feel sorry for you."
I inhale sharply.
I force myself to stop, not to react. I need someone to be my fiancée, and I don't have time to find and vet other women.
"Don't feel sorry for me," I counter. "I like my life." At least I haven't been pining over my best friend for more than a decade.
I soften my tone. "I'm proud of the work I do, Josie. We have one of the best teaching hospitals in the nation. People come from all over the world to get their education here. Some of the best doctors in the world trained here. We're the best of the best." I take a deep breath. "I've built this hospital's reputation from mediocre to the best in the world." Not by myself, but by building a superior team on every level.
Josie smiles. "Yes, you have. And I'm proud to be part of the team that creates those world-class doctors."
She takes my hand, turning my palm up and tracing my life lines with her thumb. Her eyes follow the path from our joined hands to my face, and she intentionally holds my gaze.
"But there's more to life than that." Her voice is quiet, firm. "You need to let people in to take care of you. To hear you. To love you for who you are—outside of work. The people who work for you can only do that to a point."
I hear Marin at the door. I pull my hand away and avert my gaze.
"That's Marin. She's bringing dinner."
I stand quickly, eager to escape this conversation. She comes in before I even reach the door.
"Did you have any trouble?" I ask her.
She shakes her head. "I've got it, ma'am. Give me five minutes, and I'll have dinner ready for you. I'll put dessert in the refrigerator. I can stay and serve if you'd like."
"Not necessary."
I pick up the contract documents from the table and set them on the china cabinet. I need something to do with my hands.
From the corner of my eye, I notice Marin's glances between us as she sets up dinner.
"Nice to finally meet you, Doctor," she says, placing the steaks on the table. "I've heard so much about you."
"Oh?" Josie's eyebrow go up, and my shoulders tense. "Like what?"
"I've got merlot or sauvignon blanc with dinner. We'll save the whisky for dessert, if that's amenable for you." Marin clasps her hands behind her back. Something about her posture feels off tonight.
"Merlot would be nice," Josie says. "I also want to know what Florence said about me." She's having a little too much fun with this.
My stomach clenches as Marin's eyes dart to me.
"It's not what she said, it's what she didn't say." She has the nerve to wink at Josie. "I've already seen signs of her icy exterior melting away when she mentions you."
"Stai attenta, Marin," I growl. Watch yourself.
"Don't threaten her." Josie's frown cuts straight through my defenses. "If this is how you treat your staff, I'm not interested in helping you cover your ass."
My chest tightens as she moves to stand, but Marin reaches her first, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"It's fine," Marin says softly to Josie, something silent passing between them. She squeezes Josie's shoulder before letting go.
I dismiss Marin as soon as she serves our drinks, desperate to end the silent conversation between them. I take a sip of wine and start eating, trying to regain some semblance of control.
The silence is heavy for a long minute before Josie finally breaks it. "Is that how you always treat your staff?"
I meet her gaze, straightening my spine. "My staff doesn't behave like that in public. She knows better."
"You're not in public, Florence."
She puts her fork down and stands.
"I hope you can find someone to put up with your high-and-mighty attitude—long enough to pretend to like you—for your charity gala. I'm not the right person for the job."