Page 8

Waldo’s Diner came into view, and I parked near the door. I’d come here more since Cohen married Birdie, the owner’s granddaughter. For the first time, though, I was nervous to go inside.
Mara was... a firecracker wrapped in dynamite. The kind of girl you knew you could love if it didn’t tear you apart. I pushed through the front door, looking around for her. She sat sideways in a booth toward the back of the restaurant, her heeled feet hanging over the edge. She waved her hand at me, her smile big and thankful.
Shedidhave a nice smile.
But that was beside the point.
I didn’t have time for games at this stage in my life. My sister’s wedding was coming up, my mom was sick, and I had to work harder than ever to be named partner at work. A fake relationship for the media circus didn’t fit into that equation.
When I got a few feet away from Mara, she stood up and said, “Thanks so much for agreeing to this, Jonas. It means a lot.”
I had a hard time keeping my eyes off her body in that green dress. It hugged her curves and displayed her cleavage, and damn, her legs looked good in those heels. I reminded myself why I was here and said, “I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”
“I meant thanks for coming to lunch,” she quickly clarified. Which made me feel like an asshole. She was a friend—or at least friend adjacent. We could have lunch together without it being weird.
“Sorry,” I said. “I am hungry.”
“Good,” she said, sitting down and sliding a menu toward me. “Betty told me they have a new dessert on the menu named after her. Apple Brown Betty. With ice cream. It sounds amazing.” She kissed her fingers with such delight I couldn’t help but smile.
“That does sound good, although don’t tell Betty that was already a dessert name.”
Mara giggled, the sound happy and tinkling.
Betty herself came to our table, offering us both a smile. “Can I get you anything to drink? Maybe a coffee like Mara?”
“Water’s fine, thanks,” I said, glancing back at my menu. I tried to stop with the caffeine after noon. “Can I get a cheeseburger with fries? No onion.”
“Sure thing, sweetie,” Betty said. “What about you, Mara?”
“Can I have that dessert you mentioned? I’ll decide on food later.”
“Of course,” Betty replied, walking away with our orders while I sat in stunned silence.
“What?” Mara asked.
“You’re eating dessert first?”
Mara laughed. “It’s all going to sit in my stomach together anyway. Why does it matter what order I eat it in?”
She had a good point. A point that would have horrified my eat-your-vegetables-first mother. “Fair enough.”
“So.” She leaned across the table. “I know Cohen talked to you a bit about what’s going on.”
“What is going on?” I asked. “All he said was that you needed a fake boyfriend until your movie premiere? Is it for some reality show?”
Mara laughed, and I found myself both slightly embarrassed and slightly liking the sound. “I wish,” she said. “No, I made an ass of myself on television this morning and ruined my chances at a second movie deal.”
My eyebrows drew together. “What did you say?”
“Basically, I said I don’t believe in love, and the producers heard it and now talks of a second movie are completely off the table. So now I need to prove somehow that I was only saying those things to save face with a boyfriend I didn’t want to scare away.”
I didn’t know what shocked me more. What she’d said on TV or the ridiculous proposition. I decided to start with the part that made the least sense. “Wait, you don’t believe in love?”
“No, so—”
“Hold on. You write romance, and you... haven’t fallen in love yet for yourself?”
“No. I think it’s a sham. Less common than a lightning strike.”