Chapter Thirty-One
Max
“Let’s go, Max.”
I look up from my laptop as Rhys comes over to my desk. “Your next two meetings are Zoom calls,” I remind him in case he forgot—or didn’t pay attention because he was too busy staring at my boobs. He probably picked the scoop-neck dress exactly for that purpose.
“It’s fine. Finn’s taking over.”
“Since when?” I say, checking emails and the interoffice messenger. Not a peep about the switch.
“Since now.”
“Why?” Rhys is acting strangely. “Are you okay or—”
“No cancer. Healthy as a horse. But we have an appointment. Can’t go if I’m on Zoom here, can I?”
“What appointment?”
“One I made. Let’s go.” He gestures.
I have so many things to say, but nothing I can utter when there are so many ears. I press my lips together until they hurt. Suspicion bubbles in my mind, but has to wait until we’re private.
Once we’re alone in the elevator, I turn to him, my eyes narrowed. “Are we playing hooky? The rated-X version? The one you wanted to do this morning?”
Rhys taps his chin thoughtfully. “Now that you mention it, we could—”
“Rhys, we need to take our work seriously. I don’t want people to think I’m slacking off.”
“Neither do I, but I also take my girlfriend seriously.”
I rest my hands on my hips and glare up at him. “Well, your girlfriend says you should do the meetings like a big boy, not foist them off on poor Finn.”
“Poor Finn? Ha!” He snorts. “I think my girlfriend needs some nice clothes and shoes after seeing her sad state this morning. Why make yourself miserable by wearing something that doesn’t make you happy?”
My hands drop limply. “Oh.” Embarrassment burns my face. Although my exes usually made time to be with me mainly to get laid, I shouldn’t assign the same motivation to Rhys. After all, he has shown—so far—that he isn’t like any of my exes.
“I want my girlfriend to look the part,” he says.
“The right clothes and shoes and everything else. It’s very important, because my grandmother will never believe we’re dating if you continue to wear whatever you bought while stressed about your insurance payout.
It won’t be you spending your money, since, like you said, your account isn’t unlimited, and our relationship benefits me, too. ”
I nod, grateful at his explanation. He’s never this patient. For him, most things are self-explanatory. If you don’t get it, it’s your problem.
Then something else occurs to me. “You never bought things for your exes, though… Or did you? You were always working too many hours to shop, but you’re making time to take me shopping.”
“This is different.”
“How? You feel like you have to pay for me because we’re faking our relationship?” If so, I’ll be more disappointed than I want to let on. Even if we aren’t genuinely boyfriend and girlfriend, I’d like to think we are doing this together because we at least like and respect each other.
“No. Just because it’s fake doesn’t mean it’s a monetary transaction.” He takes a deep breath, his brow furrowed. “It’s hard to define. Like…some of the companies we’re looking to acquire. Some are worth the investment and some aren’t.”
My breath catches. From his calm expression and matter-of-fact tone, he believes what he’s saying.
I can’t look away as he gazes at me. My heart flutters, but not all of it is sweet, even though his words were so tender.
It’s the kind of sensation you get when you want to cry a little, too, for some inexplicable reason.