Page 28 of Billionaire Grump
“Yes.”
“Okay. Good. This is a fake date and nothing more.”
Cleo clasps her hands with glee. “God, I wish I could be a fly on the wall and watch how this all plays out. It’s going to be absolutely delicious.”
“Either that or a disaster in slow motion.”
Cleo takes my hand. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? Alexander’s a reclusive CEO who gets out even less than you do, but he’s not a bad person. Noah’s always saying that he’s a grump with a heart of gold. He just doesn’t get an opportunity to express that side of his personality very often. And you’ll be putting his brothers’ minds at ease about his well-being.”
“If you say so.”
“Let’s talk outfits,” Cleo says. “The skimpier the better. What bikinis do you have?”
“One of my clients just sent me a white one that’s not a thong but might as well be, and an animal print one that’s basically a tiny few shreds of strategically placed fabric.”
“Perfect. What dresses? The more skin, the better. Your body is insane, you might as well show it off.”
I give her an exasperated look.
“What?” She asks innocently. “If we’re doing this, we might as well do it correctly.”
“We?”
“Okay, you. But I’m going to be cheering you on from Hell’s Kitchen like a banshee. You’ll be able to feel my supportive energy all the way out there in Southampton. What’ve you got for the wedding day?”
I think about it. “I’ve got a cute gold sleeveless dress I haven’t worn yet. It might be perfect for a wedding.”
“That sounds fabulous. What about Friday night? There’s the rehearsal dinner. You know that little pink dress you tried on when I was visiting you a few weeks ago?”
“The short one with the lace?”
“Yes! That dress is stunning.”
“I guess I could wear that one on Friday.”
“I can come over and help you pack if you want.”
“Okay.”
She contemplates me for a few seconds. “Ive?”
“Yeah?”
“I just thought the money might come in handy, and he’s a Maddox. I’ve preemptively made him promise to be nice to you. But I don’t want you to do it if you feel unsure.”
“It would be nice to have the money. For Josh. Just don’t tell Noah my last name. Maybe I can fly under the radar and blend in for the weekend.”
She tilts her head, smiling. “That’s extremely unlikely, but okay, I won’t tell them your last name. I’m sure Alexander will figure it out though. People will probably recognize you at the wedding.”
“They don’t always. Maybe the Hamptons crowd doesn’t know me.”
“Please,” Cleo says. “You have, like, a billion followers. But I won’t tell. They might want to see a photo of you though. Is that okay? I’ve got this cute one on my phone I took the last time you came to dinner. Can I send Noah this one?”
She pulls up a random photo. “I guess it’s not bad.”
“Are you kidding?” Cleo squeals. “You’re a freaking supermodel, girlfriend.”
“Why do I get the feeling I’m totally going to regret this?” I mutter, as our waitress appears with our food.