Forty Day Fiancé (Sassy in the City 3)

Given I hadn’t been listening to the waitress’s suggestions, I just shook my head a little. “Oh, whichever you think is best.”

Bloody hell. I mentally berated myself.

Maybe it was a good thing I had to leave the States because I couldn’t be trusted not to be an accidental sugar baby.

But the thought of leaving made my stomach clench into knots.

“We’ll take the Italian cabernet sauvignon.” Michael turned to me. “If the lady approves.”

The lady wanted him to stop being everything I shouldn’t, yet did in fact, want.

“Sounds wonderful,” I said, giving the waitress a smile. “Thank you.”

She nodded and disappeared.

I glanced at the front of the restaurant. “I love this neighborhood. I know everyone wants to be in Brooklyn now, but I’m past my going-to-the-bar years, and uptown reminds me of my childhood.”

“If you could live anywhere in the city, money no object, where would it be?”

That made me laugh. “Money is no object? Well, that’s just absurd, so I don’t know. Maybe a brownstone on the Upper West Side or something super traditional on the Upper East Side. Am I married with children in this fantasy or am I me as I am right now?” That definitely made a difference.

“Let’s say you’re married with the potential for children.”

“I’ll take the brownstone.” I’d grown up in a brownstone but I didn’t want to think about that and get melancholy. I’d loved the winding stairs and narrow rooms. So many nooks and crannies in that house. “I grew up in one.”

“I grew up in this neighborhood.”

“Oh, that’s right. We’re not going to bump into your parents, are we? That could be awkward.”

“I didn’t actually think about it, but I guess it is technically possible, though doubtful. It wouldn’t be awkward, though, I get along with my parents and I’m a grown man. I’m sure they realize I date.” He gave me a wicked smile. “It’s not like I’m going to tell them how fantastic you look naked and how much I enjoy going down on you.”

That went straight to my inner thighs. But I gave him a wry look. “How utterly disappointing.”

Our wine arrived, and after it was poured, I raised my glass. “To you going down on me.”

Michael laughed. “I’ll drink to that.”

I took a sip of the cabernet.

“And here’s to you staying in New York.”

That soured the moment. “I really don’t see how that’s possible unless you have a fiancé for me somewhere. Maybe tucked in your pocket?”

“I do,” he said. “Me.”

I choked on my wine. I coughed into my fist and set my glass down, staring at Michael. “I’m sorry, what on earth are you talking about? What do you even mean?”

He shrugged, like he hadn’t just suggested we get married. Or pretend to intend to marry. While I had seriously contemplated a fake engagement to Michael I never in a million years would have thought he’d be the one to suggest it.

“You need a fiancé. I happen to be available. I like spending time with you and we clearly have chemistry.”

I agreed with that, but what I couldn’t figure out was why he would want to be involved. I knew what I had to gain, but I didn’t know what he had to gain.

“This isn’t like agreeing to go to a weekend in Cabo! This is a fake engagement.” I lowered my voice. “Isn’t that fraud? We could go to prison and I do not wear orange well. My skin tone is all wrong and it’s a disaster.”

The whole idea was making me panic. It was one thing to theorize about it, another in reality.

“You wouldn’t go to prison. Fraud would be like if you paid me to pretend to be your fiancé or if we had zero intention of living together or being in a relationship.”