The Billionaire's Temporary Bride (Scandal, Inc #3)(16)

She opened her eyes and looked at herself again.

See, you're still you. Maybe you just need to think of this as a job that's going to help you pay off all your debt. You'll be set for life, and all you have to do is live the job for a while. People do it all the time — lawyers who work a hundred hours a week for years, doctors who go through grueling residencies — and you don't even have to do that. You just have to smile and sign a marriage contract and go with the flow until you're offered a generous severance package.

Charlotte's literal next step was still a bit more wobbly than she would have liked. The stiletto heels weren't exactly as stable as the flats she normally wore. As she headed down the hall, she felt like she was walking down a runway. When she made it to the top of the stairs, she decided to slip the shoes off and make her way down barefoot.

Jack was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Sure enough, he was wearing a blue suit and looked as good as ever. He had just a hint of stubble on his chin. As he looked up at her, there was something welcoming about his expression, something serene.

Why do people always describe eyes as piercingly blue? Charlotte wondered. There was nothing hard, nothing penetrating about Jack's gaze. It was warm and comforting. It drew her to him. That little bit of eye contact made her feel like she knew him, like she could trust him, like he was taking her into his world. It was easy to see how he managed to charm voters into electing him at such a young age. It seemed strange to her that Jack was both the cause of so much of her inner turmoil and also the only person who made her feel at ease.

Charlotte slipped the shoes back on and took a quick look at Jack and the crisp lines of his navy blue suit. While Charlotte felt like she was wearing a costume, Jack looked like he was made to wear a suit, like when he got undressed at night, he simply got into another suit and went to bed. She had always thought that guys were the ones who had trouble dressing up for dates. Suit and tie was probably more comfortable than casualwear for Jack.

"Wow," Jack said as Charlotte made her way across the foyer, "you look unbelievable."

"Why does everyone have such a hard time believing I can look like this?" Charlotte asked.

"You'd better get more comfortable hearing compliments," Jack said, "because you're going to get many. I don't want to rock the boat though, so I'll just try my best to make fun of you." He held out his arm. "Come on, Red, there's a new molecular gastronomy restaurant called Curio a few blocks away. I thought we could walk."

"I had enough trouble walking down the hallway in these heels," Charlotte said.

"I'll catch you if you fall," Jack said. He grinned. "And maybe even if you don't."

As they walked down the quiet, tree-lined streets toward the main road, Charlotte stared down at the sidewalk and focused on not tripping on the uneven bricks. Old-fashioned street-lamps cast warm yellow pools of light over the sidewalks and the brownstones of the narrow street. Tree roots pushed up through the pavers, and tiny front-yard gardens spilled out through wrought iron fences. Charlotte steadied herself against Jack and he wrapped his arm around her. Charlotte barely realized it had happened. It just felt so natural. She couldn't help but wonder why none of her real dates had ever been anywhere near as romantic as the route to the restaurant on Jack's arm.

"I really meant what I said back there. You look incredible. If you had been wearing this dress at the wedding, I don't think anyone would have paid any attention to the bride. Who knew you were holding out on me?" Jack asked.

"Holding out on you? Is that how it is?" Charlotte said.

Jack shook his head. "You know, in my mind, that sounded like a compliment. Let me try that again. You look wonderful. Somehow, you look even better than you did at the wedding."

Charlotte smiled. "You know, you look pretty good yourself. I just hope your taste in food is as good as your taste in suits."

"I have over a dozen identical versions of this suit, save for the different shades of blue. I'm pretty sure if I die, they'll bury me in it. I didn't even choose it. A consultant did. The poll numbers showed that people found me more trustworthy in blue. Why that would be the case, I have no idea."

"So, do you make every decision in your life based off of polls?"

"Just the ones I'm too cowardly to make on my own," Jack joked. "Some choices are better left to other people. I don't care what brand or cut of suit I wear. It makes no difference in the lives of my constituents. Sure, it might get some press in some magazine or fashion blog somewhere. It might catch someone's eye, but it doesn't really matter."


"Ah, I see. So the unimportant stuff, like your love life, you leave to professionals."

Jack shot her a look.

"I didn't mean that," Charlotte quickly added. "I'm just saying, do you really think your love life is that unimportant?"

"I don't believe in love, not for people like me anyway," Jack said. "I don't have time for a personal life. I'll leave that to the rest of my family."

"I'll pretend, for your sake, that I believe that," Charlotte said. She could tell that he was annoyed. Jack looked like he was either trying to frown or posing for a picture. "So you're a martyr? Taking one for the proverbial team?" If Jack could push her to speak in public, then she could push him to admit that he had a capacity for a real relationship. She didn't believe for one second that Jack didn't want love.