Fake Marriage Box Set

“I'll take that as a no,” he interrupted. “Come on. It'll be fun. I'm just asking because I'd like to have some company for dinner. I'm not just trying to have sex with you or anything like that.”

“Not to be mean, but I don't believe you.” I sighed.

Christian frowned and pulled on his shorts. “Look, I may not be the best guy that you've ever met, but you must realize that I would never do anything that you didn't want me to do to you.”

“I know.” I sighed again. “But…”

“You're afraid you're going to want me to have sex with you?” Christian asked, raising an eyebrow at me. “And that's a bad thing?”

When he put it that way, it did sound a little ridiculous.

“I don't do one-night stands,” I told him.

“Then we'll make it a two-night stand,” he said. “Or a three-night stand. Or-”

“All right, all right,” I said, holding up both hands in surrender. “I'll go. Leave me a message here and tell me when and where.”

“Good,” Christian said smugly. Then, he turned and sauntered out the door.

He had only been gone for a couple of moments when Mina burst in. She must have been lurking by the windows, watching to see him leave. “Do you realize who that is?” she exclaimed in a hushed tone, as though he might overhear us.

I shrugged a little and went to check the messages on my phone.

“That's Christian Wall!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, I know,” I said, not sure what the big deal was. “You realize I take their full names down when I book the appointments, don't you?”

“Jesus, you live under a rock, don't you?” she asked, rolling her eyes. She thrust her phone toward me, open to a news story about him.

“Holy shit,” I said, grabbing the phone from her. “You don't think it's him, do you?”

“I told you a millionaire was going to walk through those doors one day,” Mina said. “Only he's a billionaire. You got his number, right?”

I paused and stared down at the phone for a long moment, hardly able to believe any of this. “Actually,” I said, looking seriously up at Mina. “I've got one better than that. He's picking me up here for a date on Saturday. He's taking me to dinner.”

Chapter Eleven

Christian

When it came down to it, I didn't date that many girls. There wasn't a reason to; after all, most girls practically threw themselves at me. The closest I came to dating anyone was meeting someone at a bar and buying a couple of paltry drinks for her. We all knew where the night was going to end, though; that was never a question.

For some reason, things felt different with Gretchen.

I called up Mark a few hours before the date. “I need to get a suit tailored,” I told him.

“Oh,” Mark said, sounding a bit flustered. “I know a good place that I can take you to.”

“Good,” I said. “Meet me here in twenty minutes.”

When Mark pulled up in front of my hotel, I was already impatiently waiting outside, even though he got there a few minutes early. “What do you need a suit for anyway, man?” Mark asked as we drove.

I shrugged. “I'm going on that date tonight; remember, I told you about it?” Actually, I'd asked him for recommendations about where to take Gretchen to. He'd been a bit taken aback by that, especially when I'd shot down his first recommendations, which were for a couple cheaper, less formal places.

I supposed it didn't fit with his image of me for me to take a girl to a nice restaurant. All the media ever focused on were the clubs that I walked out of and things like that. It wasn't like I didn't have the money to splash out if I wanted to, though. And anyway, I wasn't always such a player. And I had a feeling Gretchen might appreciate going someplace nicer.

“And, what, you didn't bring anything nice with you?” Mark asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

I shrugged. “I did.” God, I would sound like such a girl if I admitted that none of it seemed quite right. I was going to look sexy no matter what I wore. But I didn't want to wear a charcoal gray suit