Chapter Ten #3
“No, I was wondering if—if you’d like to go with me.
To the gala.” He didn’t pause before pressing on.
“I’ve got to do a presentation, and schmooze with a bunch of rich people, and the board chair thinks I’ll have more success if I have a date.
” He blanched. “Not that this would be a date, we’re just friends, but I think it’s about the illusion or something.
I’m more appealing with someone on my arm, I guess. ”
Maggie almost felt bad for him. “You don’t ask girls out too often, do you?”
Blake took a moment to process the insult before his mouth dropped open. “Hey!” When she started laughing, he whacked her on the leg with a cloth napkin. “And I said, it’s not a date.”
“Yeah, you said that a couple of times.” Maggie smiled. “Sure, why not? I’ve got nothing going on. It’ll be fun.”
“Good! Good. Thanks. I know you said one time that you like dressing up.” He exhaled, visibly relieved.
Maggie looked at the takeout containers spread out on the table. “Wait, is this why you brought me home India Joy? So I would say yes?”
Blake nodded, not even attempting to lie, and tore off another piece of naan. “I’m not above bribery.”
“It’s a good plan.” Maggie returned to her meal. “I imagine this is really formal, yeah?”
“Black tie.” Blake chewed the naan. “I rented a tux.”
She didn’t have anything suitable for an event that fancy. “I’ll need to get a dress.” Oh, shit, she didn’t have much time. “I’ll need to get a dress this week.”
“I’ll pay for it,” Blake said, “since you’re doing me a favor.”
Maggie normally wouldn’t worry about that, but who knew what the future would hold? She’d take him up on it. “That’s nice of you. It might be a couple hundred dollars, though.”
“That’s fine. Submit your receipts to the billing department.” He smiled. “And you should definitely get the pizza next time.”
Maggie laughed. “That seems fair.” She chased some rice around her plate. “What’s the vibe? Do you want to do the whole ‘fake dating’ thing? Do you want femme fatale, devoted partner, demure girl next door? These all factor into my dress choices.”
Blake blanched. “Will one of those raise more money than the others?”
She hummed around a forkful of rice, then swallowed.
“They all have their merits. The real trick is to look like the femme fatale but act like the girl next door. I’m not sure I can pull that off, but I can at least try to be the devoted and supportive girlfriend as you talk to a bunch of rich assholes. ”
He made a face and ate some more naan. “It feels kind of sleazy.”
“It’s for a good cause, right? Let them fork over some cash for something good for a change instead of, I don’t know, paying hush money to sex workers and bribing government employees.” She shrugged.
“You don’t have a very good view of the rich.”
“I know.” She sighed. “Which is complicated, because my parents were rich, and technically I’m rich too, if I liquidated all my investments …” She stopped. Unless it all gets taken away. “I’m probably an asshole, too.”
“I don’t think you’re an asshole.” He said the words quietly, like the whole conversation wasn’t a bit silly.
“Thanks. I try not to be.” She swallowed another bite. “All right, then. I’ll be your sweet girlfriend who happens to think you’re absolutely delightful, and you’ll charm all the super-rich assholes, and your company can use their money to put in gardens and save the world.”
Blake nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Although I’m not sure we can save the world from one gala.”
“You’re not thinking big enough, Blake.” She shook her head sadly, which made Blake laugh, now.
He was cute when he laughed. He even had dimples.
He didn’t really need her to woo the super-rich, probably; he could likely charm the pants off them all on his own.
But hey, she was going to get to go to a fancy-schmancy party in a dress that she didn’t have to pay for, and she wasn’t about to turn that down.
It would be the perfect distraction from everything in her life she couldn’t control.
“You’re right. We’ll save the world. Maybe even before the holidays.” He reached across the table with a piece of naan, holding it over Maggie’s plate and meeting her eyes with a questioning expression. She gestured with a “go ahead” sign, and he dunked it in the sauce. “Thanks.”
The holidays. Time was running out on her deal with Chauvel, and if she lost that, her finances would really be fucked.
She had to move faster.
Aside from that, she had this gala to plan for, another two articles to write for other publications, and a get-together with her friends.
The days were getting cooler and shorter, autumn was in full swing, and somewhere, a forensic accountant was digging through her parents’ financial records, and she had no idea what they’d find.
For now, though, she could put the stress aside. She could enjoy sitting with Blake at the kitchen table, eating late-night Indian food and chatting, and pretend that maybe it would all be OK.