Page 16 of Reluctantly Yours

“Are you going to tell JoAnna?” I ask, my lower lip getting the brunt of my teeth while I wait on pins and needles for his reply.

“No.” He shakes his head, and relief immediately floods my body, only to be replaced by panic a second later when he continues. “You’re going to tell her.”

“Shit. You’re right. I have to tell her. It’s the right thing to do.” I nod, knowing it’s right but still hating it, knowing it will undoubtedly change my life.

Barrett is the last person I want to be vulnerable with, but he knows his mom best and will likely be able to predict my fate.

“Do you think she’s going to fire me?” I ask.

Barrett’s mouth opens, ready to deliver his answer like a guillotine, swift and sharp, but it closes without response. I watch as his fingertips trace over the shelf absently. He lifts them again, rubbing his fingers together, as if there could be a speck of dust on JoAnna’s pantry shelves.

Waiting for his answer, I’m imagining the worst.

“It’s highly likely,” he finally responds.

“Yeah.” I sigh, expecting that response, but wishing it were different all the same.

“Okay.” I nod, certain of my fate. An image of me on my knees begging Barrett to not tell JoAnna, to keep this indiscretion between the two of us emerges, but I quickly cast it aside. There’s no way he would grant me that favor, so I might as well save myself the embarrassment. “Can you please not mention it to the group and give me an hour to clear everything out?”

He doesn’t respond for a minute. I sigh.

“Did you hear—”

“I heard you.” He runs his hand through his hair, an action I’ve never seen him do before. His dark, perfectly-styled mane never has a hair out of place. I was starting to wonder if it was a wig he took off at night and returned to his titanium skull every morning. It’s too perfect. I want to push my hands into it and mess it up. Leave the ends tangled and askew. Barrett St. Clair with bed head, that would be a sight to behold.

“I’ve got a business proposition for you.”

“What is it?” I ask with a glimmer of hope that we can settle this just between us.

“I need a date for a business dinner tomorrow evening.”

“You can’t get a date?” The moment I say it, I realize analyzing Barrett’s personal life should not be at the forefront of my thoughts right now, but I’m intrigued. While I know JoAnna has arranged dates for him on occasion, the latest being the lunch with Tessa Green this week, and Barrett is part-robot, it has been determined that many women are willing to overlook his reptilian disposition in order to snag a billionaire. And he is gorgeous, I’ll admit it begrudgingly, so really any woman could be ensnared in his web as long as he doesn’t do a lot of talking.

He ignores my question.

“I’m having dinner with a business associate. I need a companion for the evening.”

“I’m not sleeping with you.”

Barrett’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. Oh, shit. Did I say that out loud?

“I mean, why me?” I ask.

“You’re tolerable.”

“Geez, catch me before I swoon.”

“It’s a business arrangement. I will ignore what I’ve seen here tonight and you will attend dinner tomorrow night with me.”

“Tomorrow night?” I wince. “That’s bad timing. I’ve got guests in town. They don’t leave until Sunday.”

Barrett’s eyebrows lift again and I realize how silly that sounded. He’s giving me an out. A way to make my misstep disappear and I need to make whatever he’s asking me to do work. Lauren will have to understand.

“Are we in agreement?” he asks.

“Fine,” I say, albeit reluctantly because going on a date with Barrett sounds like a nightmare. “What should I wear?” I ask.

“Not that.” His eyes do that thing again where I think he’s so appalled by my outfit but it’s like a train wreck he can’t look away from so he’s forced to examine every inch. His eyes eventually land back on mine, his lips a flat line when he moves past me and out of the pantry.