Hired To Love

Chapter Four

"You work two jobs though," I said.

"Yeah, so I'm not homeless and starving," she snapped back at me. "I make enough money to live by. Just not enough to live as lavishly as you."

I sat back in my seat a little, watching her. She was quite the spirited girl. I liked it. "How old are you?"

Her mouth almost dropped. "That's right! You don't even know my age! What if I'm under-aged? You didn't even think about that, did you?"

"I know Michelangelo's doesn't hire anyone underage, so I know you're at least twenty-one." She looked young, so I figured she couldn't be much older than twenty-one.

"How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-five, turning twenty-six this year," I answered.

"On Christmas," she said.

I was surprised she remembered. It sent a little bit of warmth through my body. Usually, the only person who remembered was my mother's secretary. "At most our age gap is four years, which is a pretty common difference."

She pressed her lips to one side of her face and looked away from me. I took a sip of my coffee, enjoying the acidic taste on my tongue. "Do we have to kiss?" she suddenly asked, turning back to me.

"As it's a common thing for couples to do, yes."

Her eyes grew round. "Maybe this isn't a good idea."

Was she that worried about a kiss? Kisses were nothing. I grabbed her hand—noting how soft it was— and swiftly pressed a kiss to it. "That wasn't so bad was it?" I asked with a grin.

She seemed to be in shock for a moment, her cheeks coloring slightly. She then wiped her hand off on her apron.

I raised an eyebrow. Why did she need to go as far as wiping it off? Many people were dying for a kiss from me. "I won't kiss you any more than what's necessary," I promised. I wouldn't mind kissing her more though. She was cute and seemed hygienic enough. "Mainly around my relatives if we happen across them."

"You've thought this out very precisely," she muttered.

"I don't want to marry someone I don't love," I said. Partial truth. I also didn't want to get married period, but might as well go for the romantic facet.

Nodding slowly, she pushed my phone back at me. I knew she hadn't read all of it, but I didn't say anything. "I don't know what your life is like, but I don't think anyone should be forced to marry someone else. I also need the money, so I'll help you."

Perfect. I knew she wouldn't be able to resist for very long. My offer was more than gracious. I could've probably found someone else and paid them way less than what I offered her. But I didn't want anyone else. She was the perfect candidate. I didn't mind spending the extra money.

"On a condition though."

This was unsurprising. There were always conditions.

She leaned toward me a bit, a tactic I used to appeal to someone. "When all this is said and done you tell everyone I broke up with you, not the other way around," she presented.

I caught myself leaning toward her too, but quickly straightened my back. "Why?"

"Hmm, something about the poor girl breaking the rich man's heart appeals to me," she responded, a playful smile crossing her face.

I nodded. "I think I can agree to that term." It also would be easier to explain why I was so heart-broken to my mother if she was the one to "break up" with me. "But you have to agree to one of my conditions."