“Fair point,” I echoed faintly.
He flashed a pearly smile. “So...?”
I glanced up to see him inclining his head, leaning down, so those damn ocean eyes were sparkling right into mine. My heart smashed around in my chest.
I was surprised my eviction notice didn’t blow out of my purse on a mysterious breeze and slap me in the face. The coffee shop, the party, the unfortunate pepper spray incident? The universe was clearly hitting me upside the head with sign after sign, but strangely enough, that’s what was making me pause. I didn’t trust things like that. I never had.
Ignoring the way his body was tilting invitingly into mine, I took a deliberate step back, narrowing my eyes suspiciously. “And if we go hence to the—”
“Hence?”
My cheeks flushed. “Sorry, it’s been a weird day. I’ve been auditioning for a part. It’s still stuck in my head. Uh...so if we go for the weekend, you’ll give me the money, and then...that’s it? We go our separate ways?”
I couldn’t believe I was considering this. I flat out couldn’t believe it. Then again, if I said no—what would happen? He’d drive away, leaving me to wander with my empty coffee cup back inside and wait with Deevus until Amanda got home. I’d tell her the details, she’d be shocked. Then we’d speculate for a night or two as to what might have happened, until we forgot about it. By the end of the week, it would have already begun to fade away. Consigned to that forbidden place in my mind where all the what-ifs and missed opportunities slowly fermented to bitterness and passive-aggressive rage.
No—not this time. This time, I was jumping in. No reservations. No regrets.
Even if it did mean agreeing with my mother.
“That’s it.” He raised his palms innocently. Then, before I could change my mind, he dropped a thick envelope into my hands. “Consider this a down payment. Good faith—and all that.”
I stared down in amazement, thinking I ought to set certain conditions and boundaries. I ought to draw up some sort of paperwork or find a notary or something. But before I could properly vocalize any of these concerns, he snatched my phone from the balcony and programmed in his number.
“Nothing physical, nothing indecent. Separate rooms.”
He slipped the phone into my hands and flashed me another grin. “Don’t worry...I’m sure by the end of the weekend, well, we won’t be able to wait to get rid of each another.”
I laughed shakily, still staring down at the envelope. “Right.”
“Rebecca.” He touched my shoulder, and I stared up into his face. “We’re going to be surrounded by other people all the time. This is not going to be something you regret. You have my word.”
The cynic in me crumbled at the sincerity shining behind his eyes. “Okay. The answer is yes. I’d love to be your fake girlfriend.” I then winked. “This is going to look so good on my acting résumé.”
He cocked his head, and I laughed.
“Kidding,” I said.
“Great,” he said. “You won’t regret this. And you’re really helping me out of a jam. I can’t thank you enough.”
“You’re helping me out too. Now I won’t have to get evicted. So thank you.”
“The pleasure is all mine.”
“And please give me those exact dates for the Caribbean. I’ll need to get them off work as soon as possible.”
“I’ll get you all the dates you’ll need off.”
“Thanks.”
Satisfied that I was satisfied, he took a step back and eyed the fire escape doubtfully. “Do you mind if I...?”
I cocked my head toward the apartment. “Yeah, why don’t you just use the stairs?”
Chapter 11
The next day, I was supposed to sleep in. I’d stayed up late into the night, staring at the sealed envelope on the table for at least an hour before I’d plucked up the courage to open it. Ten thousand dollars was staring back at me. After resisting the urge to march downstairs and use it to bitch-slap Hamburg across the face, I was seized with the sudden panic that my little roach nest in East Hollywood wasn’t a safe place for ten thousand dollars. I spent the rest of the night tearing up our apartment, frantically searching for a proper hiding spot until I could get it to my bank, drawing upon several of my favorite movies for inspiration. In the end (and after scuffing up several floorboards in my attempt to pry them loose), I ended up just putting it in a sandwich bag and stashing it in the back of the freezer behind some year-old Popsicles. Thank goodness Amanda had spent the night at Barry’s, or she might have thought I’d gone all Howard Hughes on the place. Point being, none of it mattered because I wasn’t scheduled to work so I was supposed to be able to sleep in.
Supposed, being the operative word.