Page 19 of A Bossy Roommate

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Page 19 of A Bossy Roommate

“Oh. My. God.” Not only does her jaw drop, but her eyes grow to the size of dinner plates. Clearly, her poker face needs work too.

“With that, I will lay down some ground rules, and some requirements.” Not just because of her, but also because of my tendency to do things in her presence that I wouldn’t normally do.

Immediately, she shakes her head. “I’m not having sex with you! Nopeee, sir. No sexual favors. That ship has sailed.”

My eyebrows fly up so fast they’re in danger of disappearing in my hairline. (So much for a poker face.) “Who’s talking about sexual favors?”

“Well, all those zeros just now…they suggest, you know?—”

I shake my head in frustration. “This isn’t about sex. In fact, not even close. First off, you need to have dinner with my aunt and me. Don’t leave me alone with her, for the love of God.”

“Didn’t you say you love her?”

“I do. More than life. I can only imagine her next mission is going to be me having children and that is a conversation I am adamant about avoiding.”

Eden chuckles. “The big bad wolf is scared of his elderly aunt. This is too good.”

“Aunt Eleanor is a tough, smart woman,” I say, ignoring her smartass comment. “Knowing her, she’ll want all the details about the wedding and how we met. I’ve already shared my side of the story with her, so you need to follow along with what I’ve said to keep things consistent. You have to sell it. She has to really think that we’re married and in love. She’ll leave for France a happy woman.”

“You’re certainly going to a lot of trouble to impress your aunt.”

“She’s the most important person in my life, and she’s adamant that me being married will make me happy. It’s ridiculous, but I don’t see the harm in letting her think that’s the case.”

“Got it.”

“Secondly, we need to keep our ‘marriage’ a secret at work. Obviously none of this can be mentioned to anybody in the office.”

“All of that sounds doable.”

“I’m not done. Thirdly, no falling in love.” The last thing I need is romantic complications or worse, a fake bride who wants to become a real bride.

For a second, her jaw tenses, but then she snort-laughs aloud. “Easy. I wouldneverfall in love with you. In fact, you’re the last person on this planet I would fall in love with.”

I narrow my eyes at her, curious as to what she means.

“Bosses are taboo. Everybody knows that. I’m not risking my new job.”

Well, that makes sense. “Good. Make sure it stays that way.”

She pulls the pin out of her hair, letting long shiny brown locks flow down her back. I have the mental image of her doing something similar the night before, right before she walked toward me. “So dinner with your aunt, no improvising, and make her think I’m the devoted, loving wife,” she lists backat me, running her hand through her soft hair. “Keep our ‘marriage’ a secret at work. Play the devoted wife, but no falling in love. Got it.”

“Good. Then we’re done here.” I glance at the time. This has already taken way too long.

“Wait. If you have ground rules, then I have some of my own as well.”

I cross my arms and lean against the wall. “And they are?”

“If I have to sell this thing, then you do too,” she says, pointing an accusatory finger at me. “I’m more than happy to act like the doting wife, but marriage is a two-way street. You have to be the doting husband, right? We’re newlyweds and need to act like it. I deserve to be fawned over.”

“What makes you think I won’t?”

“You really don’t want me to answer that.”

“I know what I want and how I like things done, and I’m not ashamed of that.”

“Which works in the business world and is what makes you a good businessman. But would make you a terrible husband.”

“I resent that remark,” I tell her, irritated. “When I commit to something, I go all in, not just giving one hundred percent, but excelling.”




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