Big Rock(6)

“Since college,” I answer.

“Wonderful,” he says, as the waiter sets down his eggs benedict. “I hope you can join us tomorrow night for the dinner party, then.”

Oh, so I’ve passed his test. Yay me.

“I’d be thrilled,” I say.

There goes celebrating with Nick. But he’ll understand. I sneak a glance at my dad, who’s looking pleased that this breakfast is going well so far.

Mr. Offerman picks up his fork. “And perhaps you could bring your girlfriend.”

I nearly choke on my orange juice.

My dad starts to correct him, but Mr. Offerman keeps talking, that big baritone leaving no room for interruption. “My wife would love to meet Charlotte. All my girls would, too. We have such a family-centric business, and it’s so important to maintain that during a visible transition time, considering the media interest and all. I love knowing that they’ll see this committed side of you”

I part my lips to correct the misunderstanding. To tell him Charlotte is just a friend. That we’re only business partners.

But his smile right now is like his signature on the deal itself. I make a line of scrimmage decision.

Mr. Offerman already thinks Charlotte is my long-time girlfriend, and that pleases the punch out of him. What if she was more? Go big or go home.

“Actually, Charlotte and I have just been friends since college,” I say, then take a beat to deliver what he wants. “But we started dating a month ago, and we just got engaged last night. I couldn’t be happier to share the news here. She’s my fiancée now.”

Harper drops her fork, my father blinks, and Mr. Offerman lights up. We’re talking Rockefeller Christmas tree style. He’s beside himself with glee over this family environment he just waltzed into. He thought he was getting a playboy, and instead he’s landed a groom-to-be.

“And I would be thrilled to bring my beautiful and brilliant fiancée to your dinner tomorrow,” I add, then flash my dad a big grin before I dig into my scrambled eggs. My sister is staring at me like she’s about to commence a cross-examination. I’m sure she will later. But I have a busy day ahead of me now.

All I have to do is convince Charlotte that this is part of our pact.





CHAPTER FOUR


Standing on the street outside the restaurant, Dad runs his hand through his hair. His brow is furrowed. His expression is flummoxed. He just sent Mr. Offerman off to the Fifth Avenue store in a town car, letting him know he’d join him there soon.

But first he must grill me. Understandably.

“When were you going to tell me?”

Here’s the thing. I can’t tell him I’m faking it for Mr. Offerman.

If my dad knows that I just pulled that engagement out of my ass for the sake of his business deal, he’ll think he has no choice but to apologize to Mr. Offerman. He’ll walk up to him, fix on his Honest Abe look, and say he’s sorry, but his son was just joking. That’s the kind of man he is, and the kind of business he runs. And if he has to go back to his hand-picked buyer, tail between his legs, and confess that his party-boy son put his foot in his mouth, that’ll screw up his big sale in a heartbeat.

Nope. Can’t let that happen.

I won’t put my dad in the position of being in on this fake engagement. But the fact is, he needs me to be engaged. I saw the look in Mr. Offerman’s eyes when I dropped the E word. As Single Spencer, Man About Town, I’m the wild card in this deal that’s not quite sealed. With a ring on Charlotte’s finger, I become the golden child.

So I do something I don’t want to do, but I have to do it.

Pad the lie. Make it airtight.

“It just happened last night, when I asked her.”

“I didn’t even know you were dating,” he adds.

A woman in a tight pink skirt and black heels walks in our direction. She shoots me a flirty look, and I’m about to smile back when I realize I need to cut myself off.

Ouch. I’ve just handcuffed my favorite appendage for the next few weeks.

But that’s okay. I can do this. I can pretend to be engaged. I can put my dick on ice. So to speak.

“I wanted to tell you right away, and well, ‘right away’ was this morning.”

“How long have you been together?”

Keep it simple. Keep it short.

“It all happened so quickly, Pops,” I say, adopting a look of wonderment and hopefully puppy-love for my bride-to-be. “We’ve always gotten along so well, as you know, and been great friends. I think it was one of those things where the one for you is just right under your nose, but we didn’t realize it for the longest time. Then one night a few weeks ago, we admitted that we had feelings for each other, and…bam. The rest is history.”

Wow. Did that sound believable or what? I can so do this.

Dad holds up a hand. “Not so fast. What does that mean? The rest is history? How did you propose? And for Christ’s sake, where did you get the ring from? If you say Shane Company, I will disown you,” he says in mock seriousness.

I need a ring, stat. A big-ass ring. The son of a jewelry magnate would get nothing less for his lady.

“We fell in love fast, Dad. We dated for a few weeks.” That sounds plausible enough. But it would sound a little better like this… “That was all we needed, because it was built on the foundation of years of friendship. You know what they say. ‘Marry your best friend,’” I say, though I have no clue if anyone really says that. But even so, I might as well be slamming the basketball into the net with that one, because it sounds f*cking awesome. My dad nods in understanding as I finish my ode to my fictional love affair. “When you realize that you can’t go a day without the woman you adore by your side, you need to make her yours, whether you’ve been dating a few weeks, or been in love with her for years. So I proposed last night. Couldn’t wait any longer. When you just know something is right, you go for it, don’t you think?”