“We have to make it believable,” I say, entwining our hands together.

“That’s not easy. I barely know you.” She takes her hand back.

“We have plenty of time to work on the basics,” I grab her hand one more time. “I was born in New York. We moved to Denver when I was about ten. I went to Cornell to study business and got my MBA from NYU. You’re acquainted with my best friend.”

“Why come back to Denver when you could’ve stayed in New York City?”

“I’m close to my family.”

“They’ll know we’re not a couple,” she insists.

“Trust me. They won’t,” I say, hoping that’s enough.

It’s not. She moves her hand away and crosses her arms.

“I really don’t know you,” Claire says. “So no, you can’t say trust me.”

“Fair enough. We’ll make it believable. I’ll repay you, I swear.”

“Suddenly I feel like Pretty Woman,” she says and writes in the air with her finger. “Hooker for hire.”

“This is nothing like Pretty Woman. Though, I will compensate you. You can have whatever you want—within reason.”

“Well, there are a few things I want. An increase in salary, the Media and Marketing Director position, or another week in Cancun.”

I press my lips together. She can’t be serious.

“Honestly, I’m hoping for the last one because I want to earn the other two on my own,” she says with confidence.

Wait, she’s got to be kidding.

“Another vacation?” I ask, unsure. “We have work to do, Claire. I need you to land me a few accounts before the quarter is over.”

She narrows her gaze then turns toward the window.

I hold my breath for several seconds as I wait for her reply.

“Two weeks during summer and you’ve got yourself a deal,” she finally speaks.

“One and a half.”

“Three. In Europe?”

“Fine, two, but my mother has to believe we’re in love.”

“Now you’re asking for a miracle,” she says exasperatedly. “We can try, but I can’t guarantee the outcome.”

“Do we have a deal?

She sighs and nods. “Tell me about your family, Mr. Archer.”

“Miller, you have to call me Miller. Remember, we’re in love.”

She huffs. “You’re not my favorite person. What you’re asking for is a miracle, but let’s see what we can do.”

Six

Claire

“We’re here, sleepyhead.” A tender baritone wakes me up.

The sound of his voice is like a warm ray of sunshine covering my heart. When I open my eyes, I see him, Miller Archer, leaning close to me. So close, I feel his breath on my neck. His fingers grasp my wrist.

My heart beats wildly, and I have trouble swallowing.

Is this a dream?