Maybe I knew even less about Theo Ganas than I thought, because that response surprised me. I expected him to blow me off, or even tell me to mind my business. Even more puzzling was the fact that he actually seemed to want me to say more. “Do you think I should go off on my own?”

I could just say I’d spoken out of turn and get back to quitting, but to say this man had never asked my opinion about his business would be an understatement. Finally telling him what I really thought was too much of a temptation.

I shrugged as I came up with a not-too-harsh answer. “I think you should do what you’re passionate about and I don’t know if building ten-million-dollar lofts for oligarchs is that for you.”

“Hm,” he groaned in answer and leaned back on his chair, a contemplative expression on his face. The urge to keep my thoughts to myself around Theo was so ingrained that I felt a little sick for saying that little bit. The uneasiness only grew when he kept staring into space without saying anything. Those usually flinty gray eyes were now glowing with whatever was going through his mind. I was close to bursting when he finally responded to my outburst. “But what about the couple thing?”

“The what?” I grimaced at my almost yell, but I was fully on edge at that point. Of all the freaking days for Theo to develop awareness about other people’s inner lives.

“About the fact that it’s a show for couples,” he explained. He frowned when he looked at me, probably given the look of astonishment on my face. Eventually what he said sank in. The couples for the show. Although it technically wasn’t a requirement, it did seem that part of the secret sauce for Star Renovations’ shows involved a dash of romance. Almost every season, even when the co-hosts started out hating each other, by the end they were “involved.” The internet loved a hot reality TV ship like nobody’s business and the producers knew it.

“I don’t think you’re required to be a couple,” I hedged, still not quite believing we were having this conversation. “Besides, you’re filthy rich, smart and have an irritatingly perfect body.” His mouth twitched, but I knew he couldn’t be smiling, so I figured the caffeine must have been kicking in. “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble finding a twenty-five-year-old with a viral charcuterie board Instagram business to pretend she’s dating you if it came to that.” To my utter amazement he actually cracked a smile. Something wobbled in my stomach, likely shock from seeing all his teeth at once. His gray eyes journeyed over me, that mildly amused expression causing weird things happen to my body.

“Would you do it?”