9. Cameron #2
She bristled. “Are you suggesting I need help with that?”
I let out a long, frustrated sigh. “Felicity, no, not at all. You’re basically flawless.
” I stopped talking abruptly, angry at myself for letting my subconscious take control of my mouth.
“What I meant was, since it’s the company’s fault for sticking you in the spotlight, the pressure would be off you to have to worry about all the little details that go with that.
I’d take care of everything, so you wouldn’t have to worry about what you wore last time, or if your manicure looks right. ”
“That’s nice, but that’s the sort of thing that would come standard in this scenario.” She shrugged. “I’m still not seeing how this makes it worth my while.”
I threw down my winning hand. “I’ll pay you triple the going influencer rate per appearance.”
She froze.
“I don’t think you understand what that means,” she said slowly. “Do you know what they get paid?”
“I have a rough idea, sure.” Veritique hadn’t dealt much with influencers before, but I had plenty of friends running other companies, and I knew how much they’d had to pay for that sort of thing.
Felicity glanced around the room and leaned across the table. “Would we have to kiss?” She sounded horrified.
I moved closer to her, placing my elbows on the table. “If we’re getting fake engaged, then yes. We would. Probably often.”
My pulse hitched at the thought of it.
“Hold hands?”
I felt the corner of my mouth turn up. “Do you want to outline all of the physical stuff before you agree to it?”
“Well, yeah, I do,” she replied, sounding adorably stressed about potential kiss quotas. “We need to keep this romantic relationship professional, you know? Maybe we should get an intimacy coordinator, like they do on movie sets? Or even draw up a contract?”
“Felicity, I know better than anyone that contracts are important. But you have my word that I’ll abide by anything we agree to here. It’s not like I’m thrilled about all of this.”
She rifled through her bag as I spoke, then tossed a small notebook and pen on the table between us. “We’ll write it down and sign off. Okay?”
I shook my head at her, frustrated and charmed at the same time. “Fine.”
“Let’s start with the big stuff. Kissing is allowed, but only when cameras are present.” She raised an eyebrow at me, her pen hovering above the page.
“Of course,” I said quickly, hoping the image in my head of taking her into my arms would blur.
“And no tongue.”
“Definitely. No tongue.”
I wasn’t able to block a brief flash of pressing my lips to hers, and our tongues ignoring the rules. I felt a familiar stirring below my belt.
She continued scribbling. “Holding hands is okay, both on camera, and when we suspect people are watching.”
“Like now?” I asked.
Her eyes darted to the girls. “Yes. Like now.” She licked her lips nervously.
I reached my hand across the table and threaded my fingers through hers. The girls let out an excited yip.
“Is this okay?” I asked in a low voice.
Felicity tightened her grip and let her thumb caress my hand. Damn, she was a surprisingly good actress.
She adjusted her expression, softening her eyes. “It is.” She scribbled a messy note with her free hand.
“Walking arm-in-arm?” I asked.
“Duh, of course,” she scribbled again.
“As for the engagement itself, I’ll pick the ring.”
Felicity started to sputter a response but realized how it could look if she appeared outwardly frustrated with me. She gave me a sweet smile, even if I could tell her teeth were clenched. “I’m basically being forced into this, can I at least have a say in that part?”
“And you think I’m not being forced?” I was smiling, but I was sure she could hear the frustration in my voice. “No, Felicity, I’m the ring expert, I get to choose.”
She narrowed her eyes to glare at me for a moment. “Fine.” She scribbled another note. “I’m including my rate on here.”
“Perfect. I think that about sums it up,” I said, glancing at my phone again. “I need to get going.”
Felicity let go of my hand and ripped the paper from the notebook. She slid it toward me.
“Sign.”
I tipped my head at her, smiling deviously. “Manners, my darling.”
She widened her eyes, and I could tell it was taking all her strength not to scream at me. Maybe this little charade was going to be fun after all.
“Sign, please.” Her voice was syrupy sweet, and she had the nerve to bat her lashes at me. “Dearest.”
I scribbled my name below the messy checklist and handed it back to her. “Now it’s official.”
Something changed in her face, like she was shifting into character. Her forehead relaxed, her eyes took on a sparkle, and the smile she beamed at me looked one hundred percent genuine.
“You’re going to learn very quickly how important appearances are in the social media world,” she said in a soft voice. “You think you know what it takes, but you have no idea. So, follow my lead.”
Following wasn’t my style.
I was about to protest when she stood up quickly, laughing like I’d said something hilarious. She looked in her bag and walked toward me, deliberately catching herself on the leg of my chair and falling directly into my lap.
“Oh my goodness, I’m so clumsy,” she laughed, letting her hand snake behind my neck to play with my hair.
This felt way too real, and it wasn’t even nine o’clock.
“Ha ha,” I managed, sounding wooden. “Yes, you are…sweetie.”
She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and hopped up. “We need to get to work, honey. You made us late this morning, you naughty boy,” she pretended to pout.
Fuck. This was going to be way harder than I’d anticipated.
“Uh, yup, let’s go.”
Felicity linked her arm through mine as we headed for the door.
“Hi, excuse me?”
We turned to find the two girls standing behind us, phones at the ready.
“Hi there,” Felicity said warmly.
“Are you…CamLicity?” the shorter one asked.
Felicity let out a peal of laughter that echoed around the coffee shop. “You caught us! Yes, we are.”
“Would it be okay if we took a picture?” the other girl asked tentatively.
“Well,” I began, “you’ve been recording us the whole time, so I’m surprised you even bothered to ask—”
“Cam!” Felicity squeezed my arm and gave me a look. She turned to the girls. “Of course you can.”
She repositioned us so we were in front of the door without anyone visible behind us and dropped her head to my shoulder. The girls snapped a few photos, thanked us, and scurried away.
We walked out into the early spring sunshine, and she slipped away once we were around the corner from the coffee shop, glaring at me.
“You have a lot to learn, mister, and we’re taking the next thirty minutes to go through a primer. Hanwell Park, now.”
She stomped down the sidewalk. This public fake romance thing was going to be way more challenging than I’d realized.