The Two Week Arrangement (Penthouse Affair #1)(26)

Emilia prefers the smaller, prettier ones, the ones my mother gave me. Lacey’s the one choosing this time, though.

“Bis!” she blurts, one fat little finger pointing at Teddy’s silver cuff links with the square crowning. She jabbers some more, and I laugh at her gibberish. They’re a little gaudy for my taste, but the lady insists.

I snap the cuff links into place. Just like if Teddy were coming with me.

“Now, which tie?”

? ? ?

As expected, Presley’s presence is a game changer. Roger is nearly red in the face with laughter, eating up every second of this woman’s attention. At first, I thought he was merely excited to have the attention of a younger woman. But now I’m fairly convinced that he genuinely likes her as a person.

As he should.

Presley flashes me a pretty smile, and my heart clenches like it did when she first walked out of her apartment earlier this evening.

“Aren’t you cold?” I asked as she slid into the passenger seat of my Porsche.

She froze momentarily, her hands hovering over the seat belt and door handle. “Should I change? Too much skin?”

“No, you look great. And if you get cold, I’ll give you my coat.”

“Oh, right. Good detail.”

I swallowed, looking away. For a moment, I’d forgotten that this was all an elaborate, staged scheme of ours. I was just going to give her my coat to warm her, not to make things look more convincing. “Devil’s in the details.”

We then fell into a comfortable silence. The Seattle streetlights zipped by.

“I was expecting a limo,” she said, out of the blue.

“Oh, was this not extravagant enough for you?” I smirked.

“Jesus, no! This is your car?”

“It is.”

I wasn’t about to pull up with the SUV and its car seats nestled into the back row. No, this version of me drives a Porsche, a recent model with plenty of horsepower. I may be a single dad, but I can still have a bachelor’s sports car.

“I don’t have a car,” she said matter-of-factly.

“You don’t need one in the city.”

“So, why do you have one?”

“Because I can afford it,” I said with a grin, and she smiled back at me with a short laugh.

And that was how our car ride went. Playful. Comfortable. Fun.

? ? ?

So far, dinner is meeting every one of my expectations. The only bump in the road is that Roger refuses to talk business. The fat old bastard.

“There’s always time for office talk,” he says, brushing aside my second attempt at focusing. “I’m enjoying this young lady’s company.”

Presley gives me a knowing smile and turns back to Roger. “It’s as if he thinks we can’t do both,” she says, pretending to be appalled.

Roger practically roars with laughter.

I shrug with as much of a charismatic smile as I can offer. She’s got me.

“You know what,” Roger says hoarsely, after he’s recovered. “You two should come to the waterfront.”

“The what?” Presley asks.

“It’s my weekend home, right on the Sound. A couple of hours from here. Monica and I are going tomorrow morning. You should join us.”

In unison, Presley says, “Oh no, we couldn’t—” right as I say, “We’d love to.” She turns to me with a desperate look in her eyes.

Reaching under the table, I find her hand resting on her knee. I give it a reassuring squeeze as if to say, We’ll talk about it later.

“That’s fucking fantastic,” Roger says, raising his glass. “To spontaneity!”

“To spontaneity.”

With dinner finally done, Presley walks several paces ahead of me, purposely keeping her distance as we head to the car. She didn’t even give me a chance to ask the valet to bring it around for us. After jogging to catch up with her, I grab her hand, and she snatches it back as if I’ve burned her.

“You keep doing that,” she says.

“Doing what?”

“Touching me.”

“I’m sorry.” The apology is reflexive. “I won’t do it again.”

“It’s fine,” she says, backpedaling.

“No, it’s not. I won’t do it again without your permission.”

She accepts that easier than she did my last apology. We get to the car, but Presley leans against the door to face me before I can unlock it for her.

“I don’t want to go to Roger’s place.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a whole weekend. That’s a lot more involved than one dinner every now and then.”

“It’s a lot to ask, I know.”

“Yes, it is.” Her cheeks are pink, and her arms are crossed against her chest as if she’s cold. Seattle is always a little chilly at night, no matter the season.

“Would you like my jacket?”

She shakes her head, lips pressing into a line.

“Let’s get in the car.” I reach around her to put my hand on the door handle. When she doesn’t move, I let my hand drop away, determined to keep my promise not to touch her.

“I need you,” I hear myself saying. “Presley, I need your help.”