He picked up the coffee she’d brought him and took another sip. Her flaring temper could be a handful to deal with, but there were two sides to that passionate coin and he was certainly enjoying the other half at the moment.
The situation Aunt Beatrice had forced him into was unfortunate. But he couldn’t regret asking Francesca to be his fiancée. Drawing her into this circus wasn’t fair, but she was the right woman for the job. He couldn’t imagine it going nearly as well with any of the women in his address book.
He liked being around Francesca. Working with her last week had been nice. Liam had gotten very comfortable having Francesca around, and that was saying a lot. He’d dated his share of women, never for more than a few months at a time. But he had boundaries. He very rarely had them over to his house and if he did, it wasn’t overnight. They didn’t meet any of his family or at least hadn’t gotten to a point in the relationship where he thought it would be appropriate.
And he absolutely never brought them into his workplace. His romantic life and his work were two wires that never crossed. He usually didn’t date at work, Francesca being a notable exception. He even tried to date outside the business. It took a bit of effort when you lived in D.C. not to date someone in media or politics—his usual circles—but he liked it that way. Usually.
Francesca was changing everything. This fake engagement was growing into something else with every passing moment. He didn’t just want Francesca to come to his house; he also wanted her to help him decorate it. He liked starting his mornings chatting with her over coffee in his office or at her kitchen table. She may not have met his family yet, but if Aunt Beatrice had anything to say about it, she would—and soon. If the engagement went on for long, maybe he could convince his mother and sister to come to D.C. for a visit. He actually liked the idea of introducing them. He was certain his sister would really like Francesca.
All his rules were being broken. Stomped on with a red stiletto was more like it.
Normally, that would make Liam cringe. This woman he’d lassoed and pulled into his life was blurring all his boundaries. And he liked it.
A gentle rap at the door made him look up from their engagement photo. “Yes?”
Jessica came in, a couple of files stacked in her arms. “Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning, Jessica.”
She smiled as she approached his desk. “You’re looking quite chipper this morning. Love looks good on you, sir. As does Ms. Orr’s lipstick.”
Liam grinned sheepishly and got up to look in the mirror over the minibar. He spotted a touch of reddish-pink lipstick, which he quickly wiped off. “Thanks, Jessica. She would’ve let me walk around like this all day, I bet.”
“Of course. I’ve got those things you asked for this morning.” Jessica set the stack of paperwork on his desk. “Last month’s ratings numbers for the 5:00 to 7:00 p.m. weekday time slots, the budget breakout for the gala this weekend and the copy of Italian for Idiots you asked me to order came in from Amazon.”
“Excellent. Thank you, Jessica. I’ve got a meeting with the CFO today, right?”
“At four.”
Liam nodded. “Would you call and make reservations for Francesca and me at that nice sushi place in Dupont Circle? At six? I should be done with my meeting by then.”
“I’ll take care of it. Anything else?”
“That should do it for now.”
When Jessica turned to leave, Liam thought of something. “Wait, one more thing. I’d like to send something to Francesca. An unexpected gift. Any suggestions?”
His secretary thought for a moment. “Well, for most men, I would suggest flowers or candy.”
“Am I not most men?”
“Not at all, sir.”
At least she was honest. “Then what would you recommend for the smaller minority of men?”
“Perhaps something for the gala this weekend? Do you know what dress she’s wearing? Maybe something sparkly to go with it?”
Liam seemed to remember her saying something about that yesterday. That she had to go find a dress, but she didn’t know when she would have the time. Perhaps he could help with that. Aunt Beatrice had the personal shoppers from Saks Fifth Avenue and Neiman Marcus come to her when she was choosing an outfit for an event. His aunt rarely left her mansion anymore.
“Check Ms. Orr’s calendar for tomorrow afternoon and move anything she has to another time. Then call Neiman Marcus and have them send over a personal shopper.”
“They’ll need her size, colors and any other preferences.”
Liam wrote down a few things on a Post-it note and handed it to her. “This is a fairly solid guess on her size, although tell them to bring a few things larger and smaller in case I’m wrong. I want the whole outfit, so shoes too. She wears an eight.” He’d seen the label on her shoe as he’d carried her from the engagement party.