Bad Attitude - A Fake Fiance Romance

Taking a deep breath first, I gave things another go. “I was wondering if you might like to go for a drink, Hayley. You know, give it another shot.”

Something hot passed through her eyes as she pursed her lips slightly to the side. It was a coy look that sent a jolt of electricity throughout my body.

“Sure!” Hayley replied, bouncing on her heels a bit. She was so different from the day before.

“Really?” I asked, not expecting this at all.

“Sure. I would like that very much. There was so much I wanted to ask you yesterday, about yourself, but I got tongue-tied. That happens when I get shy. I apologize if that came off as rude. I’ll try better this time.”

I was a little taken aback by her admission, but the fact that she wanted to overcome her shyness really touched me. “Uh, okay, how about McGinty’s tonight at eight?” I asked, thinking of the first bar that came to me. “I’ll pick you up.”

“Great!”

I could hardly believe the change. She was so much more open and positive than when we had gone for coffee when she had seemed so cold and closed off. Maybe I had just caught her at a bad time or on a bad day. She had said she was nervous because I was rich but certainly seemed to have changed her mind about that too. Maybe she had thought about what I had said about gaining a fortune hadn’t really changed me.

The fortune had come as something of a surprise if I was honest. I had, of course, hoped that Black Flag Security would be successful but had no idea how far it would go. Some of the richest companies in the country and even some lower levels of government were contracting with us.

“What kind of cookies do you like?” Hayley asked, seemingly out of nowhere, as we walked together out of the building and headed towards our cars in the parking lot.

“Chocolate chip, why?”

“Oh, I’m great at baking. I could make you cookies that will make you fall in love with me!”

“Metaphorically?”

“Um, yeah,” Hayley said, catching herself, unable to keep from blushing.

****

A few hours later, I eased the Hummer up to the corner outside her tenement. I was hardly one to judge, having come from similar roots. If anything, it just made me a bit sad that anyone had to live like that.

Hayley came out as soon as I was parked. The sight of her made me sit back in my seat and catch my breath. She had put her golden-blonde hair up into a bun with a few pieces draped around her face. The dress she chose was clinging to her delicious curves with a slight V-neck that showed just a hint of her cleavage. Somehow, she managed to look modest and sexy at the same time.

“Hey,” she said, climbing up into the passenger seat, unknowingly giving me a generous view of her breasts as she leaned forward. It was a sight that made my cock harden.

There was something about this girl, and the way she looked, that made me want to take her right then and there on the front seat of the hummer. But that was not what this evening was about, so I told myself to calm down and got onto the road.

We arrived at McGinty’s before the usual crowd showed up, so getting parking wasn’t too difficult. I helped Hayley out of the admittedly enormous vehicle and locked up the Hummer. On a whim, very similar to the one that had driven me to kiss the back of her hand when we first met in Ann’s office, I crooked my elbow and escorted her toward the bar.

McGinty’s was a typical pub, low lighting, and tons of wood. Tonight, a jazz band was playing. We took a tall table next to the bar and waited for our waitress.

“What can I get you?” asked the waitress who wandered over. Her name tag said Katie.

“White Russian please, Katie,” I said.

“And for you, miss?” Katie asked, indicating Hayley with her head.

“Um, what’s good?” Hayley asked.

“The gin and tonic is passable,” Katie said.

“Excellent,” Hayley said, after a brief pause.

“You’ve never had a drink before, have you?” I asked when Katie was out of earshot. “Yeah, of course,” Hayley said, but she wouldn’t look me in the eyes again, so I figured she was lying.

“Really?”

She blew out a breath, giggled slightly, and then looked at me. “No, how did you know?”

“Something about the way you ordered,” I told her. “Most women I date already have a go-to cocktail.” Her shoulders dropped slightly, and I figured out that was the wrong thing to say. “Not that being new to drinking is bad. If you would rather have a soda or something, just tell me.” I didn’t want a repeat of the hot chocolate incident.