Читать книгу Distinguished Service - Tori Carrington, Tori Carrington - Страница 10

“BE MY GIRLFRIEND for a week …”

Geneva couldn’t believe her ears. She was washing up her few dishes, trying to ignore how it would usually be double, but not now that her mother was gone.

She dropped a glass and it broke in two at the sink bottom. She hadn’t realized she cut herself until she saw a perfect dot of blood on the tip of her left ring finger. She braced her cell phone against her shoulder, then ran the small wound under cold running water, wrapping a paper towel around her finger.

“Hello? Geneva? Are you still there?”

“Who is this?” she asked.

Silence.

She laughed. “Sorry. I know it’s Mace.”

She knew it was Mace because his name came up. She’d entered him into her address book the instant he’d given her his number before leaving the diner the night before.

Only she hadn’t expected to hear from him.

Ever.

“So …” she said. “I’m still here.” She turned and leaned her hips against the counter. “I’m sorry. I’m thinking it might have been better to begin that sentence with something like ‘Are you sitting down?”

Mace chuckled. “Are you?”

“No.”

“Then maybe you should.”

“Maybe I should.” She didn’t budge from the counter, although she did look at the small table and two chairs set against the wall she hadn’t used in over two months. “I’m sorry? Could you repeat what you just said?”

“I asked if you might consider being my girlfriend for a week.”

His request made no more sense now than it had the first time he made it.

“Wait, I think I’m missing an important word there,” he added.

“And that would be?”

“Pretend.”

She squinted hard. “I’d like to say that helps, but … well, it doesn’t.”

He laughed again. “I’m working so I can’t go into detail right now, but let me just say this. You want … what’s his name? Dustin? To stop pursuing you. And I want my ex to stop her useless efforts. So, if we date, or pretend to, it should go a long ways toward helping us to that end.”

“Ah,” she said.

Okay. Now his meaning was beginning to sink in.

“What time do you get off tonight?” he asked.

“Seven.”

“Okay. I’ll pick you up at 7:15 at the diner for our first date.”

“Okay. Sure. Date?”

“Pretend date. I’ll take you somewhere I’m sure to run into Janine. And, I’m guessing, Dustin will be at the diner when I pick you up?”

“Probably.” Most likely.

“Well, then … a win-win all the way around.”

She heard voices on his side of the phone.

“Look, I’ve got to run. I hate to rush you, but, well … what do you say?”

She found herself incapable of saying anything.

The idea of spending time with Mace? For any reason? Phenomenal.

“By the way,” he said, “if this is to work, we can’t say anything to anybody about it. The fake part, that is.”

“Of course.” Funny he should say that. She’d been considering asking for a little time so she could call Trudy and ask her advice. But he was right. If this was to work, they couldn’t tell anybody. If Trudy knew, well, then so would Mel, then Tiffany … and within five minutes the news would reach Dustin’s ears.

“So, is that a yes?” Mace asked.

She found herself smiling, imagining the possibilities. “Yes. I guess it is.”

She swore she could hear him smiling. And her body reacted the same way it would have if he’d been standing in front of her—with a rush of heat.

“Good,” he said. “See you tonight then.”

He ended the call, leaving Geneva to remain standing at the counter, smiling stupidly at the opposite wall without complete comprehension of where she was or what she was doing.