Page 6
Reagan tossed her head back and opened her mouth wide, engaging her entire body in the act of laughing. “El pobre!
Poor guy! Did you go on a second date? I would have been terrified but probably risked it.” She winked, triggering a rush of warmth to Libby’s cheeks.
“Tommy Jackson was not into it,” she admitted, briefly covering her eyes as she recalled the ancient embarrassment.
“He couldn’t understand the next level overprotectiveness.”
“I guess you didn’t have the luxury of pretending your teenage loves were your new best friends.” She chuckled.
“My mom wasn’t thrilled when I came clean years later, but it got me around all the crazy restrictions.”
“You knew when you were that young?”
“What? That I was into the ladies?” Reagan wiggled her eyebrows. “Yeah. I figured it out when I kept begging my parents to rent Mr. and Mrs. Smith for me. One fine day, I realized it wasn’t for Brad Pitt.” After a brief pause, Reagan countered with her own question. “When did you know?”
“Oh, I’m not —” She cut herself o before sounding rude.
“I’ve never dated a woman.”
Reagan smirked but didn’t comment. Libby was curious about what was happening behind the woman’s brilliant brown eyes. They seemed to bore straight to the center of her.“Can you tell me what this job would entail?”
The way she asked made it seem like she was interviewing Libby rather than the other way around.
“Staging a few pictures, publicly declaring our relationship,” Libby began rattling o the list she and Taylor sketched out earlier in the evening. The contours were still rough, but they’d tried to brainstorm as many situations as they could. “I get invited to public events all the time, and you would accompany me to them as often as practicable. We can set a maximum number you’re comfortable with. There would also be dates and various things like that. You’d be on a monthly retainer, and—”
“I guess this means I can’t actually date anyone else in real life, huh?” Reagan asked. “Not that I can imagine where I’d find the time while juggling all of that.”
“Are you dating someone now?” Libby countered abruptly.
The moments between question and answer were interminable. “No. Not really. Janice asked before she told me what this was about.”
Libby smirked. “Are you trying to negotiate a higher fee for your trouble?”
Reagan’s dimples appeared at the corners of her mouth for a split second. “I guess that depends. How long do you think you’ll need my services?”
For the first time in a half hour, Libby glanced at Taylor.
“The contract terms are six months, with the possible option to renew for continuing six-month periods until the time is right for you to break up.”
Reagan gripped her chest as if mortally wounded. “We haven’t even gone our first date yet, and you’re already planning for Splitsville?”
Libby smiled at the corny term. “I haven’t even decided whether you’re the right candidate for my fake relationship,” she countered. “Counting your chickens a little quickly, aren’t you?”
“Forgive my presumption. I’m sure this will be quite the challenge.” Her eyes drifted around the room at all the pictures taped up, staring at them. “It sounds like you intend to spend as much time with your fake partner as you would a real one.” Reagan stood and extended her hand. “I wish you the very best of luck and I look forward to hearing from you.”
The rigid formality was so di erent from Reagan’s fluid ease that Libby didn’t buy it for a second. Before she got any further than saying goodbye to Taylor and reaching for the door, Libby swiveled toward her in her chair.
“If we’re going to pull this o , you’ll have to be a much better actor than that.”
Reagan turned back, her smile wide. “Damn it. Laid it on too thick, huh?”
“Just a little,” Libby agreed with a wink. Since when the hell do I wink?
“Sorry to interrupt, but don’t you want to ask the questions?” Taylor’s eyes darted to the untouched questionnaire on the table.
Libby replied with a single shoulder shrug. “It’s been such a long night, I guess I forgot about those.”
Taylor’s furrowed brow reflected how rarely Libby
Table of Contents
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