Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“I’m serious,” Melanie says. “Say that when you bumped into him in Green Park, he hadn’t been so grumpy. Maybe the two of you had a brief flirtation. Perhaps he recommended a restaurant and took a picture of you so you didn’t have to rely on selfies. Then you bumped into him at the coffee shop . . . Let’s say he bought your coffee, and the two of you sat down for a chat. Maybe he asked you to dinner, and you found out about his dilemma.”
Melanie should have been a lawyer.
“You’re right, it’s a good way of looking at it,” I confess. “But isn’t it different when he’s offering to buy my time?”
“Why?”
I don’t have an answer. “I don’t know. Do you remember the scene in Sunshine on a Rainy Day when a barefoot Daniel rushes after Jennifer after the fight and gets locked out?” I stand in front of the door and just stare at it.
“Of course I do.” Melanie has also watched every single DDL film ever made. One of the perks of being my best friend. “That was your mom’s favorite.”
It didn’t matter how often we watched the movie together. When we got to the scene, she’d always say, “Make sure you marry someone who’d run after you barefoot in a rainstorm.” Then she’d talk about the time she and Dad got locked out of the car at a music festival. “It didn’t rain, and we didn’t argue,” she’d say. “But if circumstances had been different, your father would have come after me no matter the weather or his footwear.”
“You okay?” Melanie asks.
“Yeah. I have so many happy memories,” I say. The bit I leave unsaid is, I wish she was here with me. But Melanie knows.
“She would be so happy you’re in London.”
I nod. “I know.”
“I think she’d want you to pretend to be this guy’s fiancée.” Melanie certainly does, and I can’t ignore her opinion. She’s my best friend.
I turn away from the door. For all the nostalgia it inspires, a door is only interesting for so long.
“You really think it would be a good idea?”
I’m not sure what my mother would say. She’d probably tell me to follow my heart. She was a romantic like that. It’s moments like these when the grief surfaces. They don’t happen very often now. I still miss her, but I don’t rail against God in the way I used to. I’ve accepted things how they are. I got to have her for as long as I did. I have wonderful memories and I knew her heart. I know what she would have done in most circumstances I come across. Being asked to be someone’s fake fiancée, though . . . Amazingly, it never came up in all our what would you do if scenarios.
“Your mom was a dreamer. A lover of fairy-tale romances. She’d tell you to pretend to be this guy’s fiancée because even though it might start off as pretend, it might turn into a love story.”
“That’s ridiculous. You’ve seen how hot this guy is. And he’s rich AF. He can date any girl he wants.” I haven’t told Melanie about the surge of electricity I felt when Ben touched me. Just because I felt it doesn’t mean he did.
“Okay, so take the romance out of this. It’s practical. You get the money and you don’t make an enemy of a client. You could even negotiate. See if he’ll pay you more.”
The scales are tipping. Melanie’s making really good points. “You think I should try and call him?” I ask.
“Maybe,” she says. “Or maybe fate will intervene and you’ll bump into each other again. Didn’t you say you work in the same building?”
Gail said Ben’s offices are in the same building as the bank’s and that she sometimes sees him in the lobby. Ginny says he goes into Coffee Confide in Me every day. It shouldn’t be too difficult to “coincidentally” run into him. Although with my luck, I’ll never see him again.
Chapter Eight
It’s Sunday, so I’m late getting to Coffee Confide in Me. My conversation with Melanie is still replaying in my head. It didn’t occur to me she’d think agreeing to be Ben’s pretend fiancée was a good idea. I’m worried I’ve done the wrong thing, that I should have said yes. Melanie’s right—the money would be really useful. But if he thought I was a stalker before, if I track him down and tell him I’ve changed my mind, he’ll probably have me arrested. I’m going to need an espresso chaser this morning.
Ginny with the bright-red hair is on again, and she beams when she sees me. I know this isn’t her normal greeting—she’s British, after all. I expect a grunt that’s supposed to pass for hello or a tense smile.
“It’s you,” she says, her eyes widening. “Filter Coffee Guy has paid for your coffee.”