At the coffee station, Rose filled her mug, then doctored her coffee with cream and sweetener. Donovan drank his coffee black and sweet. They returned to the table. Fortunately, no one else had taken it.
“Thank you again for meeting me this evening.” Rose reclaimed her seat.
“I was curious about this business proposition you mentioned.” Donovan angled his chair to sit with his long legs away from the table.
She still wasn’t sure how best to ease into her request. “It’s actually a bit of a long story.”
Donovan shrugged his remarkably broad shoulders. “I don’t have any plans for the night.”
Why was that?
“My law school class’s ten-year reunion is this September. It’s actually September eighteenth through the twentieth. I need an escort.”
“An escort?” Donovan’s almond-shaped eyes held her gaze as though he could read her mind and separate truth from fiction.
Rose took a deep breath, drawing in the scent of every item on the café’s menu. “I need someone to pretend to be my boyfriend for the weekend.”
Donovan blinked. He was silent for too many seconds. “Are you asking me to do that?”
“Yes.” Rose’s voice was thin, the word barely audible. She straightened her shoulders and tried again. “Yes, I am.”
Again Donovan was silent. “There’s got to be a story in there somewhere.”
“That’s not important.”
“I think it is. If you want me to play this part for you—for an entire weekend—I need to know what I’m walking into.”
Rose gave Donovan her best prosecutorial stare. The sales executive held her gaze while he sipped his coffee. He wasn’t backing down. Rose smothered a groan. What could she tell him?
“All right.” Rose heaved a sigh. She took a drink of her cooling coffee, then told him just enough. “My ex-fiancé and his newly pregnant wife will be at the reunion.”
“So?” Donovan shrugged again.
Rose followed the movement, fascinated by the play of muscles beneath the dark jersey. “So we didn’t part on the best terms, and I’d rather he didn’t know that I’m not dating.”
“How long ago did you break up with this guy?”
“Why does that matter?”
“I’d like to know the circumstances that I’ll be walking into.”
Rose gritted her teeth. She hadn’t counted on having to reveal so much of her background to a virtual stranger. “It’s been almost a year and a half.”
Donovan’s thick, dark eyebrows jumped up his broad forehead. “And you haven’t dated anyone else in all that time?”
Rose’s temper started a slow burn. “Are you willing to help me or not?”
He cocked his head as though giving it some thought. “Why did you break up?”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“I’m sorry, but I think it does. It will help me to understand how you’ll react when you see this guy. What’s his name?”
“Ben Shippley.”
“Why did you and Ben break up?”
He was persistent. Rose usually admired that quality in a person; not this time.