“What thing?” I asked, perplexed, wondering if I’d missed skin cancer on the man’s forehead or something.

“I think it’s called a smile,” he cracked, and I swatted his arm.

“Um, Evan. Have you ever brought a woman home before?” He flattened his lips, giving me an ironic look before I continued, “You’ve been holding my hand the whole time we’ve been here. Maybe he thinks…”

We stopped outside a door, and Evan snapped his fingers. “That’s it, Blaire. He thinks we’re dating! That’s why he’s so freaking giddy.”

I went inside the bathroom and did my thing before returning to the wide corridor where Evan was waiting. He had a strange look on his face and took my hand without leading me back to the parlor. “Blaire, don’t think I’m overstepping, please, but… well, do you think we could let my father believe we’re dating? We’re together most of the time anyway, so nothing would really change except in his mind.” He was tapping his fingers nervously against his thigh, something I had noticed him doing when he was anxious.

I didn’t even have to think about it. I grasped his hand, stilling those tapping fingers. “If that would help you out, I don’t mind, Evan. It’s not like I’m going to be dating anyone for real.”

He looked surprised and then grabbed me in a hug and squeezed me. “Thank you, Blaire. You’re truly my best friend.”

“Hey, don’t get too grateful. If we’re going to be fake dating, I have serious expectations. I would like a fancy dinner once a month and foot rubs at least twice a week.”

He gave me a low bow and said, “Madam, I agree to your terms.”

“Then you’ve got yourself a girl, Evan Cavanaugh,” I said with a quiet laugh.

As he drove me home in his white Mercedes sedan after dinner, Evan reached over and grabbed my hand. “Thank you so much for tonight, Blaire. My father has been pressuring me to go out with the daughter of one of his colleagues, and honestly, she’s a bit of a nightmare. A totally spoiled diva who has no ambition except to be a socialite. I think our fake dating will get Father off my back, at least for a while.”

“Honestly, I didn’t mind at all. I’m very comfortable with you, so it wasn’t weird or anything.”

“So, what are your plans for tomorrow?” he asked.

“I have got to find a job,” I told him, “but I need something temporary since I’m starting school in a couple of months. I’m living with Beau, but I just want to have my own money for food and gas, you know?”

He was quiet for a moment before speaking. “Are you good with numbers?”