“No.” She shook her head slightly. “I want to try new things…new things with you.”
Was she flirting?
The way she looked at me from under her lashes made my heart speed up. Hayley really was making an effort to come out of her shell. She had changed from our first encounter and was coming across as sexy. I was suddenly glad I had given her a second chance.
“Gin and tonic and a White Russian,” Katie said, putting our drinks down before us.
I took a sip and watched Hayley do the same. At first, her eyes went wide, but then after a second sip, she nodded like she was coming to enjoy her drink. I was glad. Maybe I could get her to try a White Russian next. She might like something creamier.
“I have a confession,” I said after a minute or so had past, and I felt it was the right time to be honest about everything.
“Do tell!” Hayley said. Her face was a little red.
“I need your help,” I admitted.
“Oh, with what?” she asked and took a few more sips of her drink.
“I need a fiancée,” I said.
Hayley turned bright red and almost fell out of her chair. “I, um, don’t think we know each other well enough. I mean I like you but -”
“That’s not quite what I mean,” I explained with a laugh.
“Oh, good, I mean, what were you thinking?” Hayley asked, trying to play it cool.
“I’ve been invited to the wedding of one of my oldest friends. We’ve known each other for years, including being in the same unit in the army, and I’m the only one who isn’t even engaged.”
She nodded and thought it over. “And you need someone to pretend to be your bride-to-be?”
“Yeah, basically,” I admitted.
Her eyes went distant as she thought it over. “Oh, I see. That makes sense. This is a business arrangement, then?”
“Yeah.” I nodded.
Hayley took in a big gulp of air then slammed the rest of her drink. She waved for the waiter to come over. “I’ll have one of whatever he has,” she instructed, then she looked at me. Her stare was different this time, there was a little bit of ice in her eyes, and her skin was tinted white. “Want to know something about me?”
“Of course,” I said, not sure about where this was going.
“I’ve never been a date before either. Not before the coffee shop, which is why I was a bit like a deer in the headlights. If I had known that this was a business arrangement, it would have been easier on me.”
“Oh,” I said.
That was really all I could say, not really knowing how to respond, being taken by surprise.
I really didn’t understand how someone as attractive as Hayley could never have been on a date. Then I realized, it may not have been my wealth that had led to her discomfort during our first date. It wasn’t because of my money but the fact I was a man.
I looked at the very innocent girl before me. She had agreed to be my fake fiancée. The deal was done, but was a fake date all that I really wanted? Hayley was probably a virgin, and the idea thrilled me.
Chapter Eight
Hayley
It was my first ever hangover. I had heard that they were bad but really had no idea. Nausea would have been bad enough without the pounding headache. Making a noise like something freshly risen from the grave, I sleepwalked into the kitchen and started up the burner for the teakettle, going more by muscle memory than anything conscious.
After a few minutes, I tiptoed into the living room to see if Jacob, my twin was awake. He had been staying on my couch for the last month or so since he had been released from the army. The TV was on, the volume low, but I couldn’t tell if he was up or not. It was best not to bother him, so I went back to the kitchen and poured myself a cup of hot chocolate.
Perking up a bit, I was able to fully appreciate the extent of my embarrassment. Not about basically agreeing to pretend to be Liam’s fiancée. I really understood where he was coming from with that and was willing to do it to help him out. It was my confession that I had never ever dated before, except for my two dates with him, that is — which were apparently not dates. The fact that I had assumed that they were haunted me. It was stupid to think that an attractive man like Liam would ever be interested in a girl like me.
Mr. Adams was the closest thing to a boyfriend I had ever had. Which, if anything, gave even more credence to the fiancée idea. We weren’t even close to that, at least not yet. Though it had started to seem like we could be friends. It wasn’t the worst basis I could think of to build an engagement — even if it was a fake one. I had heard of long-lasting marriages based on a lot less. Not in the present century, but still, the principle was the same.