"And yet I see you haven't learned anything about choosing appropriate footwear for walking down the street." He wandered over to her and lifted the box from her hands. "Let me carry that for you."
"Don't you have your own things to worry about?" She gestured at Noah.
"Nah, he can handle that." Bottles of vodka with girlie logos on the front filled the box he'd taken from her. "I assume this is your product."
"You assume correctly," she said as they walked, her heels clicking on the pavement. "I had a meeting with your brother."
"And?"
She gave him the thumbs down signal. "No good."
"Why?"
His brother was a huge champion for local business. In fact, he stocked several beers from Victorian craft breweries, and he ordered a chunk of his morning pastries from a woman who ran a catering business out of her home. Why not give Libby a chance?
"I don't think he feels that these type of cocktails suit the clientele." She sighed. "He was very polite, but I didn't get much out of him."
"That sounds like my brother." He shook his head. "I can talk to him for you."
They stopped beside a bright red car, and Libby fished around in her bag for her keys. "You would?"
"Of course."
She opened the side door and bent over the backseat, pushing boxes to the other side. Red fabric stretched across the perfect curve of her ass as she leaned forward, sending Paul's pulse skyrocketing. Teetering on her heels, she wiggled backward and braced her hand on the car door as she stood.
"You don't know me from a bar of soap." She pushed a stray strand of hair from her eyes and bit down on her cherry-colored lip.
"Des doesn't, either. It's possibly why he wasn't keen to get your product in." Paul lowered the box to her backseat and shut the door. "He tends to keep things in the community. All the key employees at First are people he knows and a lot of our suppliers are connections he's made through friends and family."
"I understand." She nodded, sighing. "But I'll be honest, I'm desperate. I've met with a ton of places this week, and all I'm getting is no, no, no. Getting showcased here would mean the world to me."
The frankness in her tone hit him square in the chest. He wanted to help her more than anything and he couldn't explain why, but his instincts told him to believe in her. For the longest time he'd avoided getting to know any women. He didn't want to know about their lives or their problems. But something about Libby had changed that. He would help her.
But there was still the problem of getting Des to feel the same way.
"Maybe I could try again, I mean, I know he doesn't have any connection with me but-"
An idea hit Paul like a bolt of lightning, the perfect solution to her problem-and his. "But you could have a connection to him."
"How could I do that?"
"This is going to sound crazy. But hear me out."
Libby leaned against the car and nodded. "Crazy is my specialty these days."
"We can get together. Then, as my girlfriend, you can get to know Des and gain his trust."
She arched an eyebrow. "You're right, that's completely crazy. Why would you date me just so I can get to know your brother for the sake of business?"
"We wouldn't really be dating. I'm not the relationship type." Even the thought of it made him itch; he would not revisit the pain of what Sadie put him through ever again. "I have zero interest in settling down, but my family is on my back and Des is getting married soon. I don't want to deal with the questions about why I'm not getting married, too."
She didn't need to know about the issue of him facing his ex.
"Why is being single such a bad thing?"
"It's an Italian thing." He shrugged. "Getting married means I'm taking life seriously."
"Because that means grandkids won't be far away?"
"Exactly." He raked a hand through his hair. "At least if I find someone who can pop out grandkids I'll be good for something, according to them."
"I'm not going to have your babies." Libby shook her head, laughing.
"Good, because babies sound like a perfectly good way to ruin my life. I have to get this wedding out of the way and then I can figure out how to avoid the problem permanently. Maybe I'll move to Siberia."
Libby grinned. "It's nice to know that I'm not the only one with a crazy family."
"Think about it. We'll pretend to be dating, so you can come along to our family dinners and get to know Des. You can convince him to stock your line and then we conveniently break up after the wedding."
And in the meantime he'll come up with a solution to his lackluster career in time to make the necessary changes before the wedding. Simple.
"No babies?" She smirked.
"Absolutely no babies. Nothing real. This will be a completely fake relationship, and you don't have to do anything for me except come along to a few family functions."
Chewing on her lower lip, Libby narrowed her eyes in thought. "Right."
This was totally and utterly crazy … and brilliant. It would solve both their problems and he would have time to figure out what to do with his life. Plus, there was no way in hell he was going to face his ex at the wedding alone. He needed a gorgeous woman on his arm and at least four fingers of scotch before he could deal with that.
"Okay," she said.
"Okay?"
"I have a feeling I'll regret this." Shaking her head, she put a hand on his arm. "But yes … I'll be your fake girlfriend."
Giddiness swept through Libby, though she wasn't sure if it was her body rebelling against the craziness of Paul's idea or the fact that touching him had all but lit her on fire. She'd remembered how it felt having him carry her more than she cared to admit. Now he was in her space again, and his closeness made her legs wobble like jelly.
But she didn't mix business with pleasure, and a fake relationship was the only kind of relationship she was interested in.
Especially since his friend had made it clear he wasn't exactly the conservative type when it came to women. The last thing she needed was to get emotionally entangled with another playboy like her last boyfriend. She would not be chewed up and spat out by a man ever again.
"Deal?" She stuck her hand out and he took it, wrapping his fingers around hers and sending a frisson of excitement zipping through her.
Okay, he's hot. No big deal, you can handle it. Ignore, ignore, ignore.
"Deal."
"So how exactly does this work?" she asked, pushing a tendril of hair out of her eyes. "I can't say I'm well acquainted with fake relationships."
She wasn't exactly well acquainted with real relationships, either, unless you could call a weeklong fling a relationship. Libby had thought she was in a relationship once, she'd even thought that she might have been in love … what a joke.
Now she preferred her men like her cocktails-good-looking, strong, and for weekend and emergency use only.
"We pretend that it's been going on for a while and now we've decided to go public."
"We'll need to do a little cramming for that." She forced the past from her mind and switched on business mode. "I need to know enough about you that people will believe we've been dating. I don't want to get caught out in front of your family."
"Good idea."
"We also need to establish some ground rules for this non-relationship."
He let out a throaty laugh. "Like what?"
"No emotions. This is a business deal." She folded her arms across her chest. "You're not allowed to fall in love with me."
"Libby, you're gorgeous but there's no chance in hell of that happening. Sorry to burst your bubble," he said without sounding sorry at all. "I don't do love."
As much as she was relieved at his agreement, her mind wanted to focus on the "you're gorgeous" part.
"No sex."
"Fine."
"With anyone," she clarified. "We're not going to be sleeping together, but I don't want you getting caught with another girl and making me look like a fool."
"I'm not a cheater," he said, his face unreadable though a muscle twitched in his jaw. "Anything else?"
"I think that's it. Anything you want to add?"
"So long as it looks real enough that my family buys it, I'm happy. I hope you're a good actress, Tiger."
"I can be very convincing when I want to be." She tipped her nose up in the air and narrowed her eyes at him. "And if you call me Tiger again I'm going to make you regret it."
Paul tilted his head and looked at her in a way that could only be described as predatory. "How do you plan on doing that?"
"I'll make you want to break one of those rules. I'll leave it up to you to guess which one."