Page 10 of The Girlfriend Card (Vegas Sin #4)

A Regular Job

Ottavia

F lorin pulled off the road and prowled into the cafe’s parking lot. “You’re not interviewing here as well, are you?” he asked, not bothering to hide his dismay.

“No. I’m meeting someone for a coffee real quick.”

He let out a dramatic breath of relief. “Thank goodness.”

“But I do have another interview at one o’clock.” With a sneaking grin, I studied Florin’s face in the rearview mirror before I dropped the bomb on him. “It’s at Starbucks.”

He winced, clearly pained. I couldn’t help but giggle. Oh, how I relished terrorizing poor Florin!

“You know, Miss Ottavia,” he began with a sigh, “I really don’t understand why you’d want to do that to yourself. I’m sure your father would—”

“Not here.” I cut him off when he rolled to a stop right outside the cafe’s entrance. “Can you park towards the back, please? And don’t bother getting out. I’ll let myself out.”

He groaned. “As you wish.”

I hopped out of the car and hurried to the cafe, my thoughts turning towards Dakota.

I wonder what he looks like.

I hoped he wasn’t as advertised. Because let’s face it, when a cocky guy with a massive ego describes himself as a “tall and handsome stud,” there is a part of you that wants it not to be true. To bring him back down to Earth and teach him a lesson in humility, or something.

But there he was, sitting alone among the cafe crowd, a devastatingly handsome man in his mid-twenties who, yes, could certainly be described as a “stud.” And though he was sitting, I could tell by his long, athletic frame that he was one tall drink of water.

I also knew Dakota spelled trouble—because there was no way girls could resist a man with such a striking jawline and dark, tousled locks of hair.

When his eyes met mine, the flutter in my tummy told me I wasn’t immune to his appeal, either. But I’ve always had a weakness for tall men with dark hair and green eyes—and his eyes, sparkling like emeralds from across the cafe, were the greenest I’d ever seen in my life.

Okay fine, I thought begrudgingly. You’re allowed to call yourself a stud.

I neared and Dakota rose from his chair to meet me. My neck kept craning higher and higher upward because he kept getting taller as he stood.

Holy hell, I thought, staring up at this tall and dashing man. If anything, he’d undersold how hot he was.

But then he opened his mouth. “Are you Jane?”

“ Jane? ” A flustered heat quickly rushed into my cheeks. “No … sorry. You’ve got the wrong person.”

I fled the scene, my pulse thumping in my neck.

My mind raced with embarrassed thoughts.

Oh my God, I felt like such a fool! How many people had witnessed that awkward encounter just then, I wondered?

I must’ve looked so silly, tossing my hair and practically drooling over that guy as I approached, only to immediately discover he was waiting for somebody else—some lucky girl from Tinder, probably.

I could feel people staring and silently snickering at me.

And that, Dakota, is why you shouldn’t hype yourself up, I thought, sneaking a disappointed glance at the cafe hunk. Because there’s no way you’ll be taller or hotter than him. No way.

Maybe I was in denial still, or maybe I wanted him to be Dakota—but something seemed off. Because that guy was dressed like he just came from the gym, too, wearing a tank top that showcased his thick and sculpted arms. What were the odds?

Are you sure that’s not Dakota? I asked myself.

But that guy was looking for Jane, not “Olivia,” so I moseyed around the cafe, trying to find someone who matched Dakota’s description. When that search proved fruitless, I sent Dakota a text and waited. From the corner of my eye, I kept watch, hoping.

Yes! I knew it, I thought when the guy checked his phone a moment later.

As if on cue, he smiled, stood, and made his way toward me.

Damn, I guess that really is you, I thought. What can I say? I was torn. On one hand, I was disappointed I wouldn’t be bringing Dakota’s ego back to Earth, after all. On the other hand? My heart happily thumped in my chest as the tall, handsome man approached—how could it not?

“ Olivia . Hey. I’m Dakota.” Chuckling, he stuck out a hand to shake again. “Sorry about that. I’m an idiot.”

“First you think I’m Brett. Now you think I’m Jane?” I grinned and gave him my hand to shake, which disappeared in his strong and enormous grip. “Who are you going to mistake me for next?”

“God, I don’t know.” The cute smile he gave me didn’t help at all with the flutter in my tummy. “Hopefully, no one else.”

“So who is Jane, anyway?” I asked. “Is she some other girl you’re going to interview?”

He scoffed. “I’m not interviewing anyone else. No one else even came close to being qualified.”

I gnashed my teeth. I really didn’t want to be this guy’s only option … it’d make telling him no that much harder.

“Thanks again for meeting me on short notice. I really appreciate this, Olivia.”

“Just don’t get your hopes up, okay? Because I meant what I said.”

“That’s cool.” He smiled confidently. “Because I meant what I said about changing your mind, too.”

I chuckled. “I guess we’ll see.”

Dakota gestured at the counter. “Can I buy you some lunch?”

I didn’t want anything, but Dakota insisted on buying something, so I let him order me a latte. Before we could sit, though, he had to clear a mess of dishes from the table—he’d had a sandwich, a salad, a pastry, and some kind of smoothie.

“Looks like you had a big lunch,” I remarked as he tidied up.

He chuckled. “Yeah. At my height, I have to eat a ton just to keep weight on. It’s pretty annoying.”

“Sounds like a decent problem to have,” I said. “How tall are you, anyway?”

“Six-five.”

Wow, I murmured under my breath. My dad was a giant who towered over practically everybody, and yet Dakota had two inches on him.

We took our seats, sharing the small round table.

“Thanks again for meeting me.” Glancing over the side of the table, he ran his eyes up and down me. “But you didn’t have to dress up for this, you know.”

“Clearly not.” I giggled, pointing at Dakota’s outfit. He’d done the gym-bro thing and hacked the sleeves off of his shirt, leaving behind enormous, gaping holes that flaunted his jutting pecs and rippling torso. “I’m surprised they even let you in here dressed like that.”

Not that I’m complaining, I thought, stealing a quick peek at his thick arms.

“Just so you know, I was planning on cleaning up and changing clothes, but my trainer held me up at the gym.” Dakota grumbled, embarrassed.

“Anyway, let’s get down to business.” He drummed his fingers on the table as if building up to something, yet no such climax came. “So. Hm. How should we do this?”

I gave a disinterested shrug. “Beats me. I already told you I’m not interested. I’m only meeting you because you seemed so desperate.”

“C’mon, there’s gotta be something I can do for you. I know you said it’s not about money, but—”

I shook my head. “It’s not. I don’t need money.”

He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Thirty grand. I’ll pay you thirty grand if you do it. That’d go a long way towards paying off your tuition next year at Stanford, wouldn’t it?” He smirked as if he’d already won, and I had no choice but to accept this irresistible offer.

I sighed. “Dakota, I’m telling you, I do not need money.”

“Damn. Really? Not even for thirty grand?” Confusion washed over his face. “Alright, how about something else? Just tell me what you want and I’ll do my best to make it happen. C’mon.”

“I don’t need anything from you, Dakota. I have everything money could buy.”

“Okay, then how about something money can’t buy?”

“Like what?”

“Fuck if I know,” he said. “Money’s the most important thing in the world.”

I shook my head solemnly. “That’s not true.”

“What else is there, then? Name it.” He put his hands together. “Seriously—name it. I’m begging you here. Help me help you.”

I was running out of ways to tell him no, but he wouldn’t give up.

“Please, Olivia. I feel like you’d be perfect for this. It’s totally believable you’d be my girlfriend.”

I cocked my head. “Huh? What’s that mean?”

“You’re gorgeous, you’re smoking hot, and on top of it all, you’re funny, smart, and you actually seem like a pretty interesting girl, too.”

I tried to laugh, but no sound came out. “Amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so insulted by a compliment before.”

“Insulted?” Worry crested his face. “No—no, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you, I swear. See, ugh, this would make a lot more sense if I could explain, but …” He trailed off, wincing.

“Explain that you’re an egomaniac?”

“Well … if I’m honest, probably a little bit, yeah. But a specific breed of egomaniac in a particular industry, which would put all the rest into perspective. Get what I’m saying?”

“Mm.” I sipped my latte. “So you’re saying you work some kind of prestigious job where you could only possibly have a hot girlfriend who is also—” I injected a stunned gasp, “—smart and interesting? And if you were seen with any less of a woman, the charade simply wouldn’t be believable?”

“I know it makes me look really shallow … but … ” He nodded guiltily. “Yeah, that’s exactly right.”

I buried my face in my hands and sighed. This conversation badly needed a reset. “Start over. From the top, what happened? Why do you even need a fake girlfriend in the first place?”

Happy to have a do-over, Dakota let out a breath of relief. “Okay, so I got caught in a situation with a woman.”

“Dakota, please tell me this isn’t some kind of sexual assault case.”

If so, I was ready to walk.

“No. God no. Nothing like that,” he said, shaking his head profusely.

“Me and my coworkers went out for drinks one night. But where we messed up is, it was the night before we had a really big, uh, meeting at work. The night got a little late, and I was talking to a girl, but some people recorded us having fun, and the video got spread around the, uh, office.”