Chapter 2 - The Rules of Engagement
The silence in the office stretched so long I could hear the faint, rhythmic hum of the HVAC system overhead.
You’re the only woman my family might actually believe I could love.
The words echoed in my mind, bouncing off the walls of my consciousness. Did he mean it as a compliment on my acting abilities? Did he think I was so utterly plain, so thoroughly safe and unthreatening, that portraying a devoted girlfriend to New York’s most eligible bachelor would require zero effort on my part? Or was there something else lurking beneath those troubled green eyes—something dark, complicated, and entirely dangerous?
“You’re out of your mind,” I finally managed to whisper, stepping backward until the small of my back hit the edge of a mahogany filing cabinet.
Marco didn't advance, but he didn't look away either. He kept his hands in his pockets, his shoulders tense. “I’m desperate. My mother’s health hasn't been great this past year, Emily. The doctors told her to avoid stress, but every Sunday she corner me about settling down, producing heirs, giving her grandchildren to spoil. If I show up to the Hamptons estate alone this weekend, she’ll have a minor cardiac event. If I show up with a Hollywood model, she’ll see right through it—she knows I can't stand vain, empty-headed women.”
“And I’m what?” I challenged, a sudden, defensive spike of adrenaline cutting through the shock. “Your convenient, accessible shield?”
“You’re smart,” Marco corrected instantly, his voice cutting through my insecurity like a blade. “You’re sharp, you know my family’s dynamics because you’ve managed my schedule for two years, you don't panic when things go sideways, and—most importantly—you already know how to handle my moods without flinching.”
“That doesn't mean I’m qualified to pretend to be passionately in love with you in front of a dozen critical aristocrats!”
“It’s acting, Emily. You’re smart enough to fake it for a week.” He took a half-step closer, his gaze softening just a fraction, a pleading note entering his voice that I had never, ever heard before. “I’ll pay you a bonus. Ten thousand dollars on top of your weekly salary. Clear your schedule, pack a bag, and be ready in front of your apartment by 8:00 AM on Thursday.”
Ten thousand dollars.
That was almost half my annual student loan debt. It was rent for a year. It was freedom.
And more importantly... it was seven days. Seven days living in the sunlit Hamptons estate, walking along the beach, sitting beside him under the stars, pretending that the man I had secretly loved for twenty-four months actually belonged to me.
“Ten thousand,” I repeated, my voice hollow.
“Non-negotiable,” Marco said, thinking he had won me over with his wealth.
“I have conditions,” I snapped, pushing myself off the filing cabinet and squaring my shoulders, channeling every ounce of professional dignity I had left.
Marco raised a dark eyebrow, clearly surprised that the quiet, obedient assistant was suddenly laying down the law. “Go ahead.”
“Condition one: No late-night work emergencies during the trip. If we are playing a couple, I am not answering emails about restaurant supply chains while eating lobster by the pool.”
“Agreed.”
“Condition two: We establish ground rules. Where we sleep, how much physical contact is required, and what the cover story is for how we supposedly met.”
“We’ve known each other for six months,” Marco smoothly replied without missing a beat. “Met through a mutual charity event downtown. Kept it quiet because of my public profile. Simple, boring, believable.”
“Condition three,” I said, my heart threatening to burst right out of my chest as I looked up into his face. “The moment we step back into Manhattan next Sunday night, the charade ends. Cold turkey. No lingering habits, no lingering looks. We go right back to boss and employee.”
Marco went completely still.
The air between us grew heavy, charged with an unreadable tension. He stared down at me, his green eyes darkening until they looked almost black in the dim office lighting. For a long, terrifying second, I thought I had pushed too far—that he would rescind the offer, call me crazy, and fire me on the spot.
May you like
Instead, a slow, dangerous shadow of a smile touched the corner of his chiseled mouth.
“Deal,” he murmured softly. “We go right back to normal.”
