“There’s nothing wrong with being hardworking.” I shake my head.

“I don’t want you to see me as neglectful.” He gauges my reaction, but I’m trained in the art of ‘smile now, pout later.’ Not that I will.

“I lived with not one, but two career-driven parents. I’m used to late-night dinners and canceled family vacations.” I push my long brown hair over my shoulders, and his ocean eyes fall to my neck.

I know why I have to marry this man.

I know his business will boom once my name is tied to his.

My parents hinted at a second location for Filano Law, which would mean Admiral Law would be no more; they’re already ruling over the East Coast, which is why we moved in the first place, and it seems Anthony will soon lead the way on the West.

I wonder if his business partner is aware of this?

Regardless, it would be negligent of me to pretend far more risqué reasons don’t exist—arm candy goes a long way in the world of benefit dinners and government balls.

Slowly, he brings his gaze back to mine, a smile on his salmon-colored lips. “On that note, we won’t be making it to the yacht today. I took the liberty of ordering in for us.”

Right as he shares the news, a light tap sounds on the outside of the door and he calls for them to enter.

Four people usher in a cart swiftly pushed by one as the others make quick work of setting up a station for us to eat.

I’m not surprised when a bleeding steak with fresh roasted vegetables is placed in front of Anthony. It’s exactly what I’d order for him if he were ever to run late and require my doing so, as it’s the exact meal he’s chosen every time we’ve gone out.

I expect a pile of sauce-drowned pasta or fresh risotto to be lowered onto my setting, but what I get is a pile of greens lacking any sort of dressing, not to mention the best part of a dreaded salad—fresh baked croutons! I’m convinced it’s simply a starter, but as the group swiftly grabs their things and prepares to exit, I’m reminded that false hope sucks, just as this lunch is about to.

The woman who placed it before me sneaks an apologetic smile, begging me not to question the meal, so this time, I won’t.

The rest of the meal is spent with me savoring cherry tomatoes while burying leaves of kale in the napkins, and Anthony stuck on his phone.

My cheek is kissed as I exit, and I rush out so my stomach doesn’t decide to growl and give me away in his presence.

As I step inside the house, my sister is just emerging from her room.