Faking It to Making It

Nate ran a hand up the back of his head and swore, looking comically pained.

She asked, “What’s going on here?”

“Celebratory dinner. The contract’s all done, signed. Thanks, in part, to you.”

“Me?”

“You inspired us to schlep him over to M&M’S World in Vegas and it put him over the edge.”

“Wow. I mean...that’s fabulous! Do I get a finder’s fee?”

His blue eyes snagged on hers and his hand dropped from the back of his head. His mouth kicked up into a half smile. Anxiety forgotten. It’s a gift, she thought, glowing from the inside out.

“What you get,” Nate said, eyes smiling deep into hers, making her glow brighter still, “is the chance to help a friend get through this night before he strangles someone.”

A friend, Saskia thought, liking the term a whole lot. Because the truth was she really liked Nate Mackenzie. And friendship sounded a heck of a lot less disastrous than the feelings buzzing around inside her, starting where his hand rested possessively against her hip.

“Dinner was atrocious,” he continued. “The guy complained so much, about everything, I kept waiting for the chef to appear from the kitchen brandishing a carving knife. Then I remembered you’d be here. You were my last hope to make this evening anything other than horrendous.”

Wow. If Saskia hadn’t already thought herself on the other side of pretending, the guy had just pushed her over the edge with a neat little shove.

She widened her eyes in warning that he owed her for this, and moved to meet Bamford Smythe.

“I’m Saskia Bloom of SassyStats. My colleague did some work on your website last year. It’s an honour to finally meet you.”

Bamford blinked as if coming to from another plane. And then Saskia saw the direction of his gaze. His eyes were all on Lissy, who was bouncing in the chair as the band lurched into a grunge version of “Dancing Queen.”

“Did you meet Lissy? She did the graphics for your site,” Saskia said, nice and loud.

Lissy looked up from her cocktail, her straw caught between her teeth. She saw who Saskia was talking to and her jaw dropped. Saskia knew her friend well enough to see the war going on behind her pale green eyes. Bamford was famously difficult, but in their circles he was a god. And behind the scruff he was actually pretty cute.

Lissy twirled the straw with her tongue, just once around the rim of her glass, before she pressed to her feet and thrust herself deep inside the computer genius’s personal space. Saskia sent out a word of prayer on Bamford Smythe’s behalf.

Saskia turned back to Nate with a smile. “How’s that?”

Nate leaned in so as to be heard. “You are my very own little miracle-worker. Again.”

“It’s a knack.”

“One of these days I’m going to have to repay you for all this. Properly.”

Right, Saskia thought, flinching on the inside. And there she’d been liking the guy, because somehow she’d let herself forget that at the heart of everything was the deal. Not friendship, not desire. Just a tenuous arrangement that stretched between now and a wedding.

“It’s fine,” she said, waving it away. “Happy to help. Puppy Dog–syndrome, remember?”

Nate angled his head, motioning to a quieter part of the bar. Saskia grabbed her beanie, scarf and her ex-army jacket with all its helpful pockets for money, ID and the like, hooking it over her arm, extricating herself from the group and following.

“Drink?” he asked, once they’d found themselves a spot at the end of the bar.

“Ta,” she said, perching on a bar stool.

“I’m paying,” he shot back as she reached into a pocket.

“Honestly, you don’t have to. Thanks to you, for the first time in months I have money to burn, remember?” There, now he’d been reminded too.

“Doesn’t mean a guy can’t buy you a drink,” he said. “I insist.”

She’d never had a guy insist before. Pretend to, sure. But the difference was clear. And it felt unexpectedly nice. Oh, what the heck? she thought, and let him.

“In recompense I’ll even let you take notes just this once,” he said with a smile as the bartender slid them each a bottle of imported beer. “‘Nate’s Moves on a Date.’”

“So we’re on a date all of a sudden, are we?” she asked, spinning to press her back against the bar and then taking a swig.

“You tell me.”

She opened her mouth to tell him...something. But nothing came out. At the directness of his gaze, the glimmer of something warm and relaxed deep in his eyes, his nearness, his latent heat, her tummy was twisting and diving too much for a quick comeback to occur to her.