Page 56 of Reluctantly Yours

“That’s to let us know dinner is being served.”

My stomach falls, not because I don’t want to eat, but because I really don’t want to sit next to Barrett for the next hour. I know, it’s silly. WordIt is just a game, but it’s a small thing that gives me joy and he ruined it.

Emma and I make our way into the main room and find our table. It appears Barrett bought out a table with his company and we’re sitting together. I really like her. I hope she doesn’t hate me when Barrett and my fake relationship ends.

At the table, Emma introduces me to Alec, her boyfriend, and the rest of the group. A Wall Street broker, Derek, and his fiancée, Madison, who looks flawless in a red spaghetti strap gown.

“I can’t stop staring at her. Do I know her from somewhere?” I whisper to Emma.

“She’s a socialite, at the top of New York’s elite social circle.”

“And I’m eating dinner with her?”

Emma giggles. “There’s nothing to be stressed about. You fit right in.”

I doubt that, but Emma is at ease, so it puts me at ease. That is, until Barrett arrives. He shakes hands with the other men at the table.

“Emma.” He gives her a kiss on the cheek. “You look beautiful.”

I gape at the effortlessness with which that compliment fell from his lips. It has now been established that Barrett is in fact capable of giving compliments. If Emma wasn’t his cousin I’d be super pissed right now.

“Madison.” Barrett plants the same perfunctory kiss on her cheek. “You look lovely as always.”

Lovely as always? Lovely as always?! If the woman always looks this good it should not require a mention. What about me? I was primped up by Hans and Frans aka Will, the dynamic duo of all things hair and makeup, and I got nothing. Barely a glance before Barrett was out the door.

Barrett then has the audacity to slide one of his massive hands around my waist. His long fingers grip my hip bone. My brain scowls at his touch, but my body has amassed an entire cheering section and they’ve all gathered between my legs. They’re outfitted in Barrett St. Clair fan club gear.

“Chloe,” Barrett draws me out of my head, “this is Carl, he’s our in-house counsel at SCM.”

I aggressively shake Carl’s hand, desperately trying to transfer my pent-up anger to someone or something. An elbow to Barrett’s ribs would have been preferable.

“And his girlfriend, Lindsay.” Barrett points to the blonde bombshell beside Carl.

I shake Lindsay’s hand, a little less aggressively.

“Nice to meet you.” She smiles kindly and I’m thankful I didn’t crush her hand.

Barrett leans in to give her a half body hug, since he’s only got the one arm available, and a kiss on the cheek.

“Did you get your hair cut?” he asks her.

“Yes. I’m surprised you noticed. It was only a quarter inch.” She laughs, then pats Carl on the arm. “Carl didn’t even know.”

“It looks great,” Barrett follows up and I think I’m going to lose my mind.

He observes a quarter inch of hair has been removed from a woman’s head that he doesn’t see every day, yet he can’t acknowledge the effort that I put into my appearance tonight? I know this is a fake relationship, but the effort to tape my boobs for the backless dress, ladies and gentlemen, was real.

A simple ‘you look nice’ or ‘that blue dress is pretty’ would have sufficed. He picked the dress out. He could have complimented himself with that one. Why is it so hard to say something nice to me?

I’m about to storm out but a waiter places a plate of food in front of me. It’s filet mignon and grilled shrimp. I drop into my seat so fast Barrett is startled.

During dinner I focus on eating the delicious food and talking with Emma and ignore Barrett, except when I have to smile at him adoringly, and that one time when I was lovingly patting his thigh but decided to pinch and twist instead.

By dessert, Barrett’s arm is resting over part of the back of my chair, which wouldn’t be a big deal except my dress is backless and I’ve now accidentally leaned into his hand twice. Those fucking hands.

When it happens again, I nearly jump out of my seat.

“I’m going to the ladies’ room,” I announce in monotone. Now who’s the robot? I feel like Barrett’s charm is wearing off on me.