Page 24 of Darling Obsession
“You need your job. I need this.”
“Why, though? Who is this Darla person? Does she look like me?”
“It doesn’t matter what she looks like. You signed an NDA when you were hired, and this is just another job. All you need to know is your role here.”
“Which is… Darla.”
“Correct.”
“So… your family thinks you’re still with her? But you’re not. And they’ve never met her before?”
“Correct.”
“Then why do they need to meet her now?”
I grind my teeth. I don’t love the inquisition. But I need this girl to play along.
I just need to get this done.
“Because they’ve asked to meet her.”
“But… it’s over?”
“Right.”
“But won’t it bother them that I work for you? I mean, do you think that’s ‘appropriate’?” She serves my word back to me.
I don’t like it. She’s proving feistier than I expected her to be.
Was the data wrong?
My finger continues the restless rhythm across the edge of the desk, dragging my fingernail back and forth.
“It won’t matter,” I growl. “It’s just a quick dinner. Then we’ll ‘break up.’”
“I see.”
That’s the way it has to be. After the dinner, I’ll tell my siblings we’re through.
Neat and tidy.
Why does it not feel neat and tidy?
Maybe because we’re alone in this office, and I underestimated how appealing she would be when we actually had a conversation. She has backbone. She doesn’t like that I’m making her do this thing, making her go on a fake date with another man who isn’t that baker guy.
Maybe she’s in love with him.
I’ve never been so irrationally jealous of a man I’ve never even met. But I don’t know a thing about him, nor do I care.
“Dinner will be tomorrow night,” I inform her, trying to stay on track. “I’ll have a car pick you up here, at Vance Tower. Brant has your number and he’ll let you know when to be ready.”
“But I can’t do it tomorrow night. I have cakes to prep for the weekend. I have a cake design business on the side, and I have a wedding and a baby shower.”
I consider this, my finger pausing briefly then resuming the pattern, back and forth over the edge of the desk.
She waits for my response, her eyes locked onto me.
We’re playing with fire here, aren’t we?
