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Reluctantly Yours(33)

Author:Erin Hawkins

With my heart pounding in my chest, I knock on the doorframe to JoAnna’s office.

“Chloe,” she says, looking up from her computer. “Come on in.”

“Oh, actually I didn’t need anything, I was just letting you know I’m on my way out for the day.”

“Okay, sure.”

“I know it’s early, but I’ll be working later, at home.” I motion to my tote bag full of manuscripts.

“Sounds good.”

“I’ve got a thing with Barrett,” I continue, feeling the need to explain the situation without confessing everything. “I’m meeting him to, you know, um…”

JoAnna holds up a hand.

“Chloe, I don’t need the details.”

Oh my God. I realize now that she thinks I’m skipping out on work to have sex with Barrett. Her son. Eww. Not the sex part, because let’s be honest, I like a good science fiction romance with hot robot/human sex, but to talk to JoAnna about it is just wrong.

Now, it’s occurring to me that people think that Barrett and I are having sex. That’s what you do in most adult romantic relationships. That’s what you do when your boyfriend looks like Barrett. You consummate like bunnies, everywhere and at all hours of the day.

JoAnna is staring at me.

“I’m not leaving early to have sex with Barrett,” I announce, a little too loudly.

“Okay, Chloe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

JoAnna’s smile is tight before she puts her glasses back on and turns to her computer.

Shit. I made it worse.

I’ve been dismissed and I’d be an idiot to stand there and try to explain what I meant. I decide to leave it at awkward and not aim for wildly inappropriate.

Like Barrett indicated, Marcus is waiting downstairs for me. He opens the door to help me into the car.

“Hi, Marcus. How are you?”

“Good afternoon, Miss Anderson. I’m well.” He’s so formal. Takes his job seriously. I don’t imagine he ever thought of hosting a party at Barrett’s apartment.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I ask.

“It’s a short drive. Only about a half mile.”

“I could have walked.”

“Mr. St. Clair wanted me to drive you.”

Of course, he did. He probably doesn’t trust me to make it there on my own. Which is silly because he doesn’t even know about the time I rode the subway for three hours because I was reading a book and missed my stop.

It’s only a half mile, but it takes twelve minutes to get there. Each minute that ticks by only gets me more worked up. Not because of traffic, but because it gives me more time to think about the mortifying conversation I just had with my boss. What she must think.

JoAnna had been surprised to hear about me and Barrett but happy.

When Barrett and I break up will she be devastated? When he moves on will she continue to talk about me, haunt him with stories from the past? The one that got away? God, I hope so.

It would drive him crazy. It puts a small smile on my face in my otherwise annoyed state.

Barrett has made it crystal clear that nothing can get in the way of his business deal, but not to the detriment of my job. My career. That’s the entire reason I’m going along with this.

When Marcus pulls up to our destination, any thoughts of my embarrassing conversation with JoAnna vanishes.

Marcus opens the door and in front of me stands the NYC Racquet Club.

I can see Barrett waiting in front of the large wooden doors. It looks more like a cathedral than a health club. Barrett strides over to meet me. He looks impeccable in his navy suit, crisp white shirt and designer shades. His lips in a firm, straight line like a brooding model. I glance around for the photographer who’s shooting this Gucci ad campaign.

We stand there for a moment, toe to toe, neither of us sure of the proper protocol for greeting your fake significant other. Add it to the list of things we haven’t discussed about this farce of a relationship.

Until Barrett wraps a hand around each of my upper arms and leans down to kiss me on the cheek. It’s quick, a whisper of a kiss against my skin, yet his proximity, the scent of his cologne has my lady parts fluttering with excitement.

Jesus, if that’s all it takes, I really need to resolve to date more when this is over.

“I’ll be back at five o’clock, sir,” Marcus announces from behind us.

Barrett pulls away and acknowledges his driver with a nod.

When Marcus retreats into the car, I finally remember that before I laid eyes on his gorgeous face, I was mad at him.

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