Chapter 11 Fake It ’til You Make It #2
“I’m just so glad the two of you could make it down. And while I know business is your primary focus, I do hope you will take some time to relax and enjoy each other. There’s no place like Scented Acres.” She slides her arm behind Tom and pulls him for an intimate side hug.
My cheeks burn against the smile I’m forcing. Enjoy each other? What the actual fuck is she talking about? I look at Noah, who stands next to me, one hand in his pocket while the other is still wrapped around his wine glass. His nonchalant stance deepens my anxious spiral.
My ability to write off the strange vibes is dissipating by the second and I curse Noah and his apparent ability to remain unbothered in even the most awkward circumstances.
How can he be so fucking chill right now?
Tom just alluded to us breaking furniture together, and Cheryl is ready to send us off on a honeymoon.
Gayle leads us back through the house and across the side yard to a quaint cottage set against its own plot of garden.
Rose bushes line the rough cut pavers making the walkway, and an archway of lilacs hang over the porch.
The floral aroma is as intoxicating as the wine, wrapping us in a blanket of sweet fragrance as we pass in through the front door.
The woman’s tour is as short as she is, but I’m only half listening; my only thought is that the house is small.
Too small. Even without hearing, there is no way there is more than one bedroom in this place.
I eye the couch as Gayle continues her instructions, wondering if it is a secret pull out.
Surely they wouldn’t have assumed that we are—no. Definitely not.
“There’s a phone on the counter that connects to the main house. If you need anything at all while you’re here, please don’t hesitate to call.”
I nod mindlessly, still stuck on the weirdness with Cheryl and Tom while Noah sees her to the door.
“Thank you so much, Gayle.”
The door is barely shut when I launch into demanding answers, even if I’m not sure Noah can give them.
“Is something weird with those two?”
Noah frowns. “What do you mean?”
My stomach is in my throat. Maybe I am way off.
“It’s been a long day and honestly I don’t think I really understand these people, but I got the distinct feeling our hosts think .
. .” I hesitate, logic screaming that I’m talking to my employer.
After everything else that’s happened between us, if I’m wrong, I face an HR violation from which even I won’t recover. Noah waits and I can’t help it.
“I think they think we’re a couple.” I whisper the last word like the curse it is, and my cheeks burn, the wine coming back with a vengeance.
I was definitely making it up. I had to have been.
“Never mind. I’m sorry I said anything. Forget it.
I think I just need a glass of water and to sit down for a moment. ”
Ignoring the fact we’ve been sitting for most of the morning, and shoving down the other questions I have about where the hell we are going to sleep if there is only one bedroom, I cross the impeccably decorated living room and sink into the plush white couch.
Noah crosses into the kitchen and pulls a glass from the cupboard.
His silence as he fills the glass from a pitcher confirms my overstep and I grit my teeth and cover my face with my hands as I try to think of a way to recover.
I just accused our hosts of thinking we’re a couple. Not to mention the awkward position this puts Noah in—to have to figure out how to tell me in no uncertain terms how wrong I am. There is no recovery from that.
I think I’m going to be sick.
Noah approaches and sets the water on the coffee table in front of me, before he too sinks into a chair. He opens his mouth as if he’s going to give me another lecture, like the day I accused him of giving me the promotion as a form of pity, and I rush to stop him.
“Forget it. I’m so sorry. I crossed a line, and I promise it won’t happen again.
Of course they don’t think we’re a . . .
” I can’t even finish the sentence, the fact that I thought it in the first place too shameful.
Instead, I take a big gulp of water, willing the chill of it to wash away my humiliation.
“Except they do,” Noah says.
Water shoots through my nose, as I cough and sputter.
“Excuse me?”
He lets out a massive sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. “This is so inappropriate, and I should march over there right now and come clean. I cannot believe I even considered this.”
My mind is blank, an engine clicking but not catching. “Considered what?”
Noah’s face is as blanched as the chair he’s sitting on and my leg bounces, uncontrolled, as he launches into an explanation, each word coming faster than the last.
“When I spoke with Tom last week, I must have spoken of you in a way that conveyed we are . . . together. Because afterward he issued the invitation for the both of us to come out. He was so excited about working with a couple, and kept going on about how this was the sort of relationship he wanted to build—with a pair who could carry the family values from his farm into the partnership. I should have corrected it then, but I was so eager to have a chance at saving face, I didn’t want to offend him or make him feel awkward.
At that point I figured you would turn me down, and it would be a non issue.
But then you didn’t. And then I was more embarrassed, I thought we could just come and do business and that would be the end of it.
I swear I didn’t think they would say anything, let alone allude to us .
. .” his voice trails off, his cheeks regaining too much color.
“I am so sorry, Charlotte. I’ll go tell them now.
I’m sure they’ll understand. I can get a room in town, or I can get it for you if you’d prefer. ”
I stare at the man sitting across from me, his face painted with pink panic, and lean forward to set the glass of water on the table as an unsettling calm sweeps over me.
Part of me doesn’t believe what I’m about to do, but while I haven’t known him long, I can’t shake the distinct feeling he’s being honest; he didn’t mean for this to happen.
And as I think through the situation, putting myself in his shoes, I wonder what I would have done.
I can’t say I would have made a different decision.
Hell, I insisted on coming on this trip to present a unified front.
Noah stands and takes a few steps towards the door.
“Noah, wait.”
He stills, but doesn’t turn. I let out a long groan and flop back against the couch. How is this happening right now? With my hands covering my face, I continue.
“I believe you. I don’t think you meant for this to happen.”
Noah spins around, his relief poignant. I hold up a finger and muster my sternest lecture voice.
“But you should have told me.”
“I know. I’m so sorry.”
“Fuck, Graves. This is a mess!”
“It really is. But I’m serious. I will go tell them now.”
His hesitation says more than his promise to make it right and I fill in the silence. This deal means everything to Noah—more than I think he’s been letting on. A misstep like this might screw us all over for good, and despite the awkwardness, I can’t do that to him.
“But if you do that, we risk them losing it over the lie, as well as kicking us out of this fine ass guest house.”
Noah’s anxiety turns to confusion. “You’re not…—are you considering this?”
“You were about to do this without telling me, which would have been an even bigger issue and probably would have ended with a quick punch in your gut when you tried to kiss me or something. I’m just trying to make the best of an already upside down situation.”
Noah crosses over and sinks onto the chair again, resting his elbows on his knees and pressing his fingertips together. Graciously ignoring the fact that I just accused him of wanting to kiss me, he continues.
“I don’t want you to think you have to do this. Letting it get this far was my mistake, and I am happy to make it right. It is so far beyond inappropriate for me to ask this of you.”
“I know. And I know you are willing to make it right. That is the only reason I’m considering letting it roll.
If you were pressuring me into it, I’d march my ass over there myself, and I don’t know if you noticed, but Cheryl took a liking to me.
You’d definitely be the one to be kicked out.
” I let out a dramatic sigh. “But then I’d have to fly economy home, and it would be a whole ass thing I’d have to explain to my roommate. ”
He laughs at my joke, and shakes his head as if he can’t believe the absurdity of it all. “Are we really considering this? Fake dating?”
Oh god. Are we? I don’t do relationships.
Not even fake ones. Because that opportunity has totally presented itself before.
Still, being on this trip already felt like teasing the line, given my clear attraction, but facing the reality of pretending to date opens up a whole new level of potential pitfalls.
I have my rules and my bet with Kara, but if this is going to work and we are going to make it back to Portland in our safe professional bubble, there are going to have to be some mutual rules.
“I think, yeah. We are.” I sit up and wag my finger at him again. “But I have some conditions.”
He opens his hands. “Name them.”
I think for a moment, working out how to talk about any of this. It’s absurd. Already feeling like we are crossing a line, I take a deep breath.
“First, this is fake. An act. We’ll play sweet around the Barkers and I’ll be the best damn fake girlfriend you’ve ever had, but when it’s just us, it's off. And I get the bed. You’re sleeping on the couch.
” He nods, and I continue. “Second, no PDA. We don’t need to give an over the top show.
” Noah nods again. “And third, you are signing one hell of a bonus check when we get back to Portland. If this doesn’t prove I’m willing to go above and beyond for this damn company, I don’t know what will. ”
Noah leans forward, his hand extended. “Those are excellent terms. You have a deal.”
Pausing for a moment, I stare at his outstretched palm.
Am I really doing this? The no PDA should keep me from losing my bet with Kara, and he is promising the bonus I’ve been needing.
But fake dating my boss while trying to impress potential clients is .
. . well, it’s the weirdest fucking thing I’ve ever done.
I take another deep breath and place my hand in his. We shake twice, our eyes locked in a stare.
“I’ll give you one thing, Graves. This is by far the strangest thing I’ve ever done to secure a paycheck.”
He chuckles. “And this is the strangest thing I’ve ever paid someone for.”
I slip my hand from his with a quirk of my lip. “While there are some details I’ll need to know for this to work, your past conquests, paid or otherwise, are not on the list.”