The Dating Plan(26)
“Marriage isn’t my thing,” Daisy said. “But this would not only get my matchmaking aunties off my back and make me totally unmarriageable when we get divorced, it would mean Organicare could be saved, my colleagues can keep their jobs, and they can move back down to the lower floor so I can be left alone to work in peace.”
It was what he’d come here for, what he wanted. Not only that, spending time with Daisy would give him time to make amends. He’d made many mistakes in his life, and leaving her had been one of them. “I can’t make any promises,” he said. “But I can have my team analyze the business and help Organicare put itself in the best possible position to get funding, if not from us, then from another VC. But you would have to agree to stay here and see it through.”
She was silent for so long, he thought she’d changed her mind.
“Fine.” She sighed. “I’ll marry you.”
It wasn’t the acceptance a man dreamed about, but it was a “yes” just the same. He pulled out his phone.
“I’ll tell my assistant to get us on the first flight to Vegas tonight.”
“Vegas?” Daisy’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“We can get married tonight,” Liam said. “I know a good chapel. Some of them are tacky, but this one has class. We can fly out after work. The Elvis wears a three-piece suit and a tie . . .”
His spider senses tingled, warning him that something was wrong. Or maybe it was the scowl on his fake fiancée’s face. “If you don’t like Elvis . . .”
“Are you kidding?” Daisy walked over to the whiteboard and picked up a marker. “We’re not going to Vegas. We need a plan for this whole thing.”
“I don’t do plans.”
“Well you’re going to do one now because otherwise you won’t have your marriage of convenience.” She turned to the board, giving him a perfect view of her lush behind. His thoughts immediately went somewhere the thoughts of a fake fiancé shouldn’t go, a small indication that this was going to be harder than it looked.
“We can’t just jump into a marriage,” she said as she wrote on the board. “It won’t be believable, especially if the trustee is a lawyer. We’ll have to plan out some dates to legitimize our relationship before the wedding. We have to be seen together, Liam.” She turned around and pointed to the board. “This is what we need.”
Liam read the heading and laughed. “A dating plan? I don’t plan dates, sweetheart. I go where the wind takes me.”
“When Orson and I used to go out with friends, we’d talk about restaurants we’d been to, or an interesting documentary we’d watched on Netflix, or an art exhibition we’d seen, maybe an energetic walk along the coast. Those are the stories that make a relationship sound real.”
Liam faked a yawn. “Orson sounds like a boring guy.”
“He was easy to be with. We didn’t have to talk much.”
“My kind of relationship.” He gave a sly smile.
Daisy raised an eyebrow. “If you are suggesting that all we did was have sex, you would be very wrong. It was an intellectual relationship. We saw thought-provoking films. We discussed philosophy, religion, politics, programming issues . . .”
Liam dropped his head and then jerked it up again. “Sorry. I fell asleep after you said you and Orson never had sex.”
“I didn’t say . . .” She trailed off, her eyes narrowing. “It’s none of your business.”
“I’m your fiancé. I think your sex life is very much my business. I need to know what kind of woman I’m marrying.”
“The kind that doesn’t kiss and tell,” she snapped.
Thoroughly enjoying her discomfort, he leaned back in his chair, hands crossed behind his head. “Who is a better kisser? Me or Orson?”
Daisy’s eyes widened and she froze, her hand hovering in midair. Liam remembered that look from the afternoons he’d spent at her house, when she’d been caught doing something wrong.
“I have my answer.” He puffed out his chest. “The old Murphy charm wins again.”
“That was the only kiss you’ll ever get from me,” she said firmly. “My feelings for you haven’t changed. This is a marriage in name only. That means no physical contact except for holding hands or a peck on the cheek for appearances.” She turned back to the whiteboard. “I’ll write that down so you don’t forget.”
“I’m liking this plan less already,” Liam grumbled. “Write that down, too.”
“How long do we have before your birthday?”
“Six weeks. June twenty-fifth, to be exact. I’m surprised you don’t remember.” He’d looked forward to his birthday every year because the Patels had always made it into a big celebration. He hadn’t needed the decorations, treats, or gifts, although he appreciated their thoughtfulness. It was the fact that they had cared enough to make the day special for him—something his family never did because his father wouldn’t allow it.
Her gaze dropped and she turned back to the whiteboard. “Tyler’s waiting, so I’ll fill in the details tonight and send you the spreadsheet. Basically we have time for six mini dates, two big family get-togethers, and then we’ll elope and get married at city hall the day before your birthday. Afterward, we’ll rent a two-bedroom apartment, live our separate lives, and one year later we’ll get a divorce. I’ll be ruined. You’ll have the distillery. We’ll be set.” She put down her marker. “I’ll need a list of close relatives from you and places we could possibly meet them. Our first date will have to be at Layla’s aunt’s clothing store to shop for your wedding outfit. She is practically family, and it’s usually the first thing people do when they get engaged because of the length of time it takes to get the clothing made.”