Page 15 of Is This Real or Just Pretend?

Charming fellow,” Lucien said as he stepped farther into the office, then came to a halt as he took in the space.

It was, in a word, stark—especially when compared to the rest of the building.

The walls were plain white, the wood floors clean but bare, and the only furniture was a large desk with two grossly mismatched chairs.

Alex had already taken her seat behind the desk and was shuffling some papers around.

She glanced up, distracted. “Who, Potts? I hired him specifically because he isn’t charming.

That way people only come to see me if it is absolutely necessary.

He also has excellent penmanship,” she added and returned her gaze to her desktop.

“A vital quality in a secretary,” Lucien quipped as he sat down on a hideous wooden chair that would not have been out of place in a Tudor torture chamber.

Somehow it managed to be even more uncomfortable than it looked, but he gathered that was the point.

Between the odious Mr. Potts, the sterile room, and the spasm-inducing furniture, Alex clearly didn’t want anybody hanging about. Fair enough.

She hummed in response and continued her reading while Lucien took the opportunity to openly look at her.

She wore a sober navy-blue gown with a high neckline trimmed in white lace at her throat and her hair was pulled back in a tight bun.

Back in Bunbury Lucien had thought she dressed rather plainly, especially compared to the other women of her class, but apparently that had been her partywear.

Leave it to Alex to dress for a ball like she was organizing a church rummage sale.

She let out a sharp tsk and for one brief, terrifying moment Lucien worried that somehow she had heard the unkind thought. But then she opened a small black case and put on a pair of dark-rimmed spectacles.

“I hate wearing these,” she grumbled.

Any other woman would have resembled a dour old schoolmarm, but on Alex the effect was… distracting.

Lucien cleared his throat. “I take it you just delivered some bad news to Mr. Farnsworth?” he asked in an attempt to make conversation, as it appeared Alex was in no hurry to do so.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” she scolded without looking up. “But no, I wouldn’t say that.”

“Really? The man looked like you had just killed his dog.”

Alex finally met his gaze then and, as her deep brown eyes stared at him intently from behind her spectacles, Lucien regretted engaging her in conversation. He crossed his legs but that provided little relief.

“Did he?” She seemed genuinely surprised. “Huh. I can’t imagine why.”

Lucien shifted in his seat. “Well, what did you say to him?”

As she said, it wasn’t any of his business and certainly not related to their arrangement. And yet he couldn’t contain his curiosity. It was also preferrable to have something to focus on besides his unruly cock.

Alex shrugged, bewildered. “I simply gave him my notes on a project he is working on. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Lucien’s mouth curved. “I see.”

Alex huffed. “This isn’t a nursery school. It is a place of business,” she said with a frown, tapping her desk for emphasis. “And I’m not one to sugarcoat things, especially when it is clear that the other person has not put in very much effort.”

“You don’t need to defend yourself to me,” Lucien said, raising his hands. “It’s perfectly reasonable to have high standards.”

But Alex did not take this as the intended compliment. “I hold everyone to the same standards I set for myself,” she said coolly. “Now if you’re done inquiring about the emotional state of my colleagues, I’d like to get started. I do have other appointments today.”

“Right. Of course.” Lucien cleared his throat. “But first please allow me to apologize for being late. I got lost on the way over, and the morning rush slowed me down even more.”

Alex steepled her fingers. “I see. And where are you staying?”

“Hackney.”

She sat back in her chair. “Well, no wonder. That’s very far. You should have found something closer.”

Lucien’s jaw tightened. If only it were that simple. “I’m staying with a friend.” He would not add that he couldn’t bloody well afford anything closer.

But Alex simply shrugged again. “Suit yourself. But most of our activities will take place around here or closer to Mayfair.”

Lucien nodded. He assumed as much. The city’s elite tended to congregate in a rarified enclave of neighborhoods. Anything else was considered déclassé.

“And if you do get tired of the travel, I can find something for you. A flat in The Albany, perhaps?”

He smiled tightly. The Albany was one of the most sought after addresses for wealthy bachelors. And far, far out of his budget. But like hell would he admit it. “Perhaps.”

She took off the spectacles and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

For a very brief moment she looked tired and Lucien wondered if she had come to the office even earlier than eight.

Just as he began to feel a touch of sympathy for her, Alex set the spectacles aside and straightened in her chair. Back to business.

“Now then, I’ve taken the liberty of drafting a proposal for you.” She passed him the papers she had been reading. “Have a look. I’m sure I missed some details, but the most important pieces are there.

“Thank you,” Lucien said, amazed. “You didn’t need to do that.”

But she swiftly brushed off his appreciation. “It’s best to move things along.”

Lucien held back a frown. “Right.” God forbid he mistake her business acumen for something as pedestrian as, say, thoughtfulness. Then he skimmed through the pages but came to a halt at a very large number. “Is… is this the initial investment?”

It was more than double what he and Rene had barely managed to scrape together in Paris.

Alex looked concerned. “Is that not enough? I might have been too conservative. We can certainly increase the amount if—”

“No, no,” he said quickly. “I think this is manageable.”

With this kind of money, he could enact all of the ideas they hadn’t been able to afford back in Paris.

Though some customers had found their ragtag approach novel, it had been born out of necessity rather than design.

Now he could afford things like individual menu cards and matching silverware.

Even tablecloths! But then, Lucien was getting ahead of himself.

He didn’t have any investors yet. And this was still just a number on a piece of paper.

“Good,” Alex said, relieved. “Take that home and look it over. I’m happy to hear your thoughts.”

“Even if I don’t sugarcoat them?”

The corner of her mouth lifted just a smidge at his teasing.

“I would expect you not to.” Then the smile vanished.

“On Thursday evening there is a monthly salon held at Mr. Peter LaSalle’s townhouse in Russell Square that is attended by a number of business-minded people.

I thought it would be a good place to start making introductions. ”

Lucien nodded. Back to it, then. “Who is Mr. LaSalle?”

“Officially, he’s an economist and lecturer at King’s College, but most of his ideas come from his wife,” Alex said matter-of-factly. “She studied philosophy at the Sorbonne.”

Lucien smiled. He was beginning to appreciate her bone-dry sense of humor.

“And she’s French, of course, so the two of you have something in common,” she continued. “In any case, he’s popular and usually serves good wine. There will be people there that you should meet.”

“Then we should go.”

“Good.” She held his gaze for a moment before handing him another piece of paper. “I also thought it would be helpful if we had a contract of sorts.”

Lucien gave her a skeptical look as he accepted the paper. “Is that really necessary?”

“Necessary? No,” she said. “Useful? Absolutely.”

Lucien began to read. It sounded straightforward enough.

Both parties agree to a minimum of two public engagements per week for a duration of six weeks, at which time the contract can be renegotiated or terminated by either party…

… Miss Atkinson will introduce Mr. Taylor to the attached list of contacts and negotiate on his behalf…

… Mr. Taylor will not engage in a romantic or physical relationship with another woman for the period outlined above.

Lucien glanced up and found Alex watching him closely. “Why does this last condition only mention me? Shouldn’t it apply to you as well?”

Alex let out a sharp laugh then quickly sobered. “That won’t be needed. I assure you.”

But Lucien slid the contract across the desk. “Still, I’d feel better if the language included the both of us.”

If she was going to make him sign something that insinuated he was a cad, then by God she’d have to do the same.

Alex stared at him for a moment. “Fine,” she said primly. “I will change it.”

“The rest of it works.”

She avoided his gaze and focused on tapping the pages together. “Glad to hear it.”

Had he upset her? “Alex—”

But before he could continue, Mr. Potts knocked on the door before entering.

Lucien shot him a glare that the man completely ignored.

“Your father is here, Miss Atkinson.”

But Mr. Atkinson did not wait to be summoned and bustled into the room. “Lucien,” he said with a jovial smile and stuck out his hand. “Wonderful to see you again.”

Lucien stood and took his hand. “You as well, sir.”

Unsurprisingly, Mr. Atkinson had a firm, confident handshake. “I’m glad you were able to come by today.” Then he looked back at the hovering secretary. “That is all, Potts.”

The man obediently slunk away and shut the door behind him.

“Now then,” Mr. Atkinson began conspiratorially. “Has Alexandra gone over everything with you?”

Lucien stared back at him, dumbstruck. Not once had it occurred to him that Alex would tell her father, well, everything .

Then again, why wouldn’t she? After all, this arrangement involved their business.

Maybe it had even been Mr. Atkinson’s idea in the first place.

Regardless, Lucien rather wished Alex had mentioned this to him.

And it didn’t seem fair that he was expected to lie to his own father while hers acted as a confidant.

“Of course I have,” she said impatiently, but Mr. Atkinson didn’t seem to notice.

“And you can agree to the terms?” he asked eagerly.

Lucien nodded just as Alex said, “Most of them.”

Mr. Atkinson raised an eyebrow at her.

“I have to change the language a bit,” she explained and shot Lucien a glance. “At Mr. Taylor’s request.”

“It’s very minor,” Lucien explained.

But Mr. Atkinson still looked apprehensive. “Good. Because Hank Jr. was in a fine snit at the party,” he explained, casting Lucien a look. “And I’d hate to go back on my word about your little courtship.”

Alex bowed her head. “Yes, Father.”

“That won’t be necessary, sir,” Lucien added. Something about the way he said little courtship niggled at him.

Mr. Atkinson stared at the both of them rather dubiously. “But remember, nothing I say will matter if you can’t convince other people.”

A muscle tensed in Alex’s jaw as she glanced at Lucien. “We know.”

Mr. Atkinson crossed his arms. “So, what have you planned?”

“We’re going to attend the LaSalle salon on Thursday.”

“And?” Mr. Atkinson prompted after an uncomfortable pause. “What else?”

Alex let out an irritated huff. “Nothing. People will see us together and hear that we are courting and in the meantime I can introduce Lucien to potential investors.”

“Oh, that’s very romantic,” Mr. Atkinson said, rolling his eyes.

“It is convenient,” she said tightly. “And I am busy .”

Lucien bit back a grimace, suddenly feeling like an imposition on her valuable time.

“No,” her father drew out the word. “You are courting, remember? So you need to do something much sooner than Thursday. What about this afternoon?”

Alex balked. “I have work to do. Our meeting with Mr. Finch is at three and—”

“Oh, you don’t need to be there. I can handle Finch,” Mr. Atkinson said with a dismissive wave.

“But I wrote the brief and need to explain my changes,” Alex insisted.

Her father’s eyes softened. “My dear. I’m sure what you wrote up is brilliant as usual, but you know very well that he will accept whatever I suggest.”

The subtext being that Alex’s presence at the meeting was of little consequence. Lucien couldn’t help feeling a flicker of sympathy for her.

Alex’s body tensed but after a moment she relented with a single nod. “Fine. Just make sure you actually read it beforehand this time.”

“I will. I promise.” Then Mr. Atkinson turned to Lucien. “Are you free this afternoon?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, good.” Then Mr. Atkinson tilted his head. “It doesn’t need to be anything elaborate, mind you. Just something where you are both seen enjoying each other’s company.”

Lucien couldn’t help glancing at Alex, but she was too busy staring at the desktop.

“A walk around Hyde Park, perhaps?” Mr. Atkinson continued. “I’ll send over a note to see that Aunt Winifred is available to chaperone.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Alex huffed. “It’s only a walk.”

But her father shot her a chiding look. “Yes. And she’ll need to be there, Alexandra, if people are to think this is real. Is that going to be a problem for you? Because if it is, we should just call the whole blasted thing off now.”

Alex’s dark gaze met Lucien’s and he saw the flash of panic in her eyes.

“It won’t be a problem,” he said. Then before Lucien could think it through, he came around the desk and stood before her with his arm outstretched.

She stared at his open palm for a moment before taking it.

Lucien helped her to her feet and smoothly tucked her arm beside his.

He gave her an encouraging smile that she hesitantly returned and together they turned to Mr. Atkinson.

Unfortunately, his frown only deepened. “Heaven help us,” he muttered. “It will be a miracle if this works.”