FAKE DATING WITH BENEFITS MY BILLIONAIRE BOSS (Ophelia Corrigan) novel Chapter 5

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~ SIMON

For a moment, I just stared at her. Jamie Collins—my by-the-book, rule-following, never-breaks-a-single-regulation counselor—standing in my office at seven in the morning, agreeing to fake-date me.

I leaned back in my chair, a slow smile spreading across my face. "Well, well. Look who finally decided to live a little."

"Don't make me regret this." She dropped into the chair across from me, crossing her arms in that defensive way she always did. "And don't think I'm doing this because I actually want to spend time with you."

"Of course not." I opened my laptop. "You're doing this because you're tired of being the victim. Admirable, actually. A little pathetic that it took my brilliant idea to get you there, but—"

"Simon."

"Okay, okay." I held up my hands. "Let's get down to business. Your grandmother's birthday is tomorrow, right?"

"Yes. Saturday."

"Perfect." I pulled up my calendar. "And my reunion is next Friday. So here's what I'm thinking: we do your event first, see how we work together, and then tackle mine. Like a dress rehearsal."

She raised an eyebrow. "Dress rehearsal?"

I closed my laptop.

"But first we need to iron out the details, Counselor."

"What kind of details?"

I stood up, rounded the desk, and leaned against the edge, right in front of her. Close enough to see the tiny gold flecks in her brown eyes.

"First things first." I tilted my head. "What are you going to call me?"

She blinked. "What do you mean?"

"At the party." I kept my voice casual. "How are you going to refer to me? What pet names are you going to use?"

Her eyes went wide. "Pet names?"

"Cute names. You know. Babe. Honey. Sweetheart. Whatever you're comfortable with."

"I don't do pet names." Her voice was dry. "Never have."

A surprised laugh escaped me. "What do you mean you've never? Not even with the neurosurgeon?"

She looked away, something passing over her face. Pain, maybe. Or embarrassment. "Oliver and I… we weren't like that. He was very… formal. We never had nicknames for each other."

I frowned. "Ten years and no pet names? That's…"

"Not everyone is a hopeless romantic, Simon."

But that wasn't what bothered me. What bothered me was the slight shift in her posture, the way she seemed to have shrunk a little. Like she was used to being diminished.

"He's more of an asshole than I thought," I muttered under my breath.

"What?"

"Nothing." I shook my head, filing that information away. "Okay, no pet names. But there's one more thing we need to discuss."

She eyed me warily. "What?"

"Physical affection. Couples touch each other. Hold hands. Put their hands on each other's backs. They—"

"I know how couples act. I've been in a relationship before. Where exactly are you going with this?"

"When we're at your grandmother's party, I need to be able to put my hand on your lower back. I need to touch your arm when I'm talking to you. I need to stand close enough that people actually believe we're together. And if necessary—" I cleared my throat. "—we might also need to kiss."