I grin in an attempt to ease the tension that is still very much in the air, “Maybe I will take you up on the offer to go shopping.”
Cade shrugs, “You look gorgeous no matter what you wear.”
I’m annoyed at myself for how easily he is able to take me off guard. Sweet words, flowers, coffee dates. He surprises me at every turn. I know he just has to keep up pretenses, but it is easy to get caught up in it all.
“Flattery, Mr. Harlow.” I rummage in my purse.
This time, I’m able to call the waitress first. However, before I can pay, he has slipped a card into the bill and sent it back with a tip. I shoot him a dark look, “I can pay for coffee.”
“I know… but I asked you out.” He raises an eyebrow, “I do have manners, you know.”
Suddenly, I feel pushed aside, acutely aware of how fake this all is. It’s not a relationship – it’s a business transaction, and no amount of searing kisses will fix that.
“No, I don’t always notice that.” I mutter as I rise to my feet. I turn to the door, making my way to the exit. Cade catches up with me as I step outside. He catches my arm and turns me around to face him.
There’s anger in his eyes and something sizzles within me. His grip on my arm is gentle, though, and he lets go quickly despite the embers in his eyes, “Look, Ellen. I’m trying here.”
I feel tears prickle at my vision and I am horrified to realize that I want to cry. I glare back at him instead, “Trying? Yeah, that’s great.” I feel hurt blossom in my chest. It happens so suddenly that I feel winded, caught off guard.
Cade frowns and I can see something lingering behind the anger. It looks almost like hurt, but it can’t be. Not Cade. He sighs, “Yes, trying. I know this isn’t the perfect circumstance, but I didn’t think I was that impossible to be around.”
His tone is tight and I don’t know how to respond. I’m not sure why I’m reacting like this at all. He’s done everything right – been polite, paid for it all, brought flowers and rings and dressed up nicely. He’s complimented me, he’s kissed me in a way that makes me melt.
He’s done it all right.
But none of it is real. The thought strikes me with a thud in my chest. None of it is real, and he can try all he likes – all it does is make it more painful. I’m in a relationship where all my wildest dreams are coming true. He could be the man of my dreams… but he doesn’t mean a single bit of it, and that hurts more than I want to admit to him. To myself.
Instead, I swallow my tears and smile, “You’re great to be around.” My words sound shallow, even to my own ears, “Life’s a bit hectic. Sorry for taking it out on you.”
He stares at me for a long moment and I have a suspicion that he knows I’m lying. His face smooths quickly and I’m left doubting myself. Did I ever see the anger and the hurt in his eyes? Or did I imagine the whole thing?
“Don’t worry about it. I know you’re stressed right now.” He smiles and it’s like nothing ever happened between us. He moves in and touches my cheek, “Don’t worry about it. Is there anything I can do to help?”
I feel moved to tears again, and I just smile, “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, all right?”
It’s in his best interest not to argue with me. It’s in his best interest to act like he cares. It doesn’t mean anything and it doesn’t have to. I agreed to this, I signed up for this and I am benefiting from it too. The very least I can do is honor my commitment instead of blowing up at him for honoring his.
Cade nods, “Well, let me know if you change your mind. I’ll walk you back to work.”
I don’t have the energy to argue. We walk back in relative silence, broken only by our footfalls and the hum of traffic, the sound of voices as we pass more shops and cafes. It’s a chilly day, but the sky is clear. I relish in the sight of it, relish in the way the wind seems to blow away the cobwebs in my soul. It’s a refreshing feeling.
By the time we get back to the salon, I’m feeling a lot better. Emboldened, I lean in and give him a quick hug, “I hope work goes well.” I say, and I realize that I mean it. I want work to go well for him.
I want him to succeed, and I kind of wish I didn’t.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ELLEN CASSIDY
Wednesday rolls around and I wake with nerves in my stomach. I can feel the butterflies fluttering around and making me feel sick. I push myself out of bed and stare at the alarm clock. In a few hours, I will be in a meeting, technically lying to a lawyer about a fake relationship.