Her Convenient Christmas Date

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“ARE YOU SURE?”

“Positive,” Susan replied. “You don’t have to keep asking.”

But Lewis felt like he did. They were on their second cup of tea. An entire meal had gone by and he was having trouble processing the fact that she’d agreed to play his girlfriend. “I’m surprised, is all,” he said. Flummoxed was a better word. “You didn’t look very enthusiastic when I pitched the idea.” Which was why, when she’d come back from the washroom and announced she was all in, he’d been floored.

“I’ll admit, the plan sounds insane, but it’s only for a short time, right? Not like you’re proposing marriage or anything.”

“Dating only, I promise.” Marriage was one of those concepts that made his insides squeeze, along with commitment and emotions. As it was, this arrangement would be the longest relationship he’d ever had. Then again, so would anything longer than a three-day weekend.

Her smile seemed to tighten for a second. “Right,” she said, setting her teacup down. “How does this work? Do we draw up contracts? Write out conditions? What does one do in a fake relationship?”

Fortunately, Lewis had given the matter some thought on the off chance she’d agree. “Obviously, the goal is to be seen together in as many different settings as possible. Like a real couple.”

“And we do this until the tabloids notice?” she asked while pouring the last of her tea. “I know you’re considered a tabloid magnet, but that doesn’t seem terribly efficient.”

“You’re right, it’s not. That’s why I’m going to have my agent leak a few discreet comments. We’re also going to have to attend one or two social events where there’s press. Actually, I’ve drawn up a few notes laying out how I think this plan should proceed.”

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Moving his teacup aside, he smoothed it flat. “We want everyone to see us, but at the same time we want to look subtle—like this is the real deal—so I’ve come up with a progression of steps.”

Susan’s arm pressed against his as she leaned in to get a better view. “Date at a public venue. Attend a society event. Be seen doing coupley Christmas things?” She turned to look at him. “Coupley Christmas things?”

“You know, Christmas shopping or walking in Kew Gardens. Whatever it is women drag their boyfriends to do during the holidays.”

“I see. Clearly, you’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“Did you think I would invite you to lunch without some kind of plan in mind?” Lewis replied. He wasn’t stupid. If Susan had said yes, he knew a woman like her would expect details. “You’re going to have to start giving me a little more credit.”

Then again, could he blame her? The whole point behind this charade was to prove he had more to offer than being a drunken party boy.

“Considering I didn’t know fake girlfriends really existed until ninety minutes ago, you’ll have to cut me some slack. I do have one question,” she said, tapping her cup. “How can we be sure people—the tabloids—will believe us?”

It was a reasonable question. The honest answer was they couldn’t. Not entirely. “I get the impression that as long as the story gets attention, they—the papers—won’t dig too deep,” he told her. “However, you bring up a point I hadn’t thought about. Lorianne has spies everywhere—it’s how she gets her scoops—so we’ll need to make sure we act like a couple whenever we’re together, even when we think no one’s paying attention.”

“Is that why we’re having lunch in a cozy corner booth? Again, I’m impressed.”

Lewis was flattered. It wasn’t often that the woman he was with complimented his intelligence. Other skills usually took priority. “Thank you,” he said. “Oh, and another thing…we need to keep this arrangement between us. No one but you, me and my agent, Michael, will know. Will that be a problem?”

She shook her head. “I’d already assumed the arrangement would be need-to-know. If it were a problem, I wouldn’t have agreed in the first place.”

Good. They were on the same page.

“What are you doing?”

She’d taken a pen out of her bag and was making notes on the paper. Lewis watched her write the words Christmas Party with a date. “My brother Thomas has informed me that I’m cohosting the corporate Christmas party again this year. I think it’s only fair that my ‘boyfriend’ attend with me.”

“Corporate Christmas party, huh?”

“For employees and other people we do business with. The ad agency, banks, etc.”

He had to admit he’d wondered if she’d insist on some type of work-related couple appearance after her speech last night. “This wouldn’t be to show up those ladies from the bathroom, would it?”

Her shrug was enough of an answer.

Whatever. It was fine with him if she wanted to put a few people in their place. “I’ll mark my calendar. While we’re scheduling, do you need me to play arm candy for any other events? New Year’s Eve? Christmas Day?”

“As it so happens…” She suddenly stopped and shook her head. “Never mind. The Christmas party will be enough.”

“Are you sure?” She was holding back.

“Yes, I’m sure. Now please stop asking that question.” Clicking her pen, she wrote the word Agreed at the top of the page along with her name and the date. When finished, she held out the pen. “Since you didn’t answer my question about a contract, I hope this will do.”

“Seeing as how I would have settled for a handshake…?” He added his signature below hers. It was official: one image makeover in a half dozen assorted steps. Whether it would work was anyone’s guess.

“I now pronounce us a couple,” he announced.

For better or for worse.

What had she gotten herself into? “When you said we were going to watch a basketball game, I thought you meant at a pub,” Susan said. Some quaint place with brick walls and a fireplace. “Not surrounded by twenty thousand spectators at London’s O2 arena.”

She was decidedly overdressed in a pencil skirt and heels. For some insane reason she’d decided to dress daringly. Her way of showing the world she was worthy of Lewis’s attention. Now she felt stupid.

“I didn’t know London even had a basketball team,” she said as they walked up the ramp.

“There’s an entire league,” Lewis answered, “but they don’t play here. This is a special event. Two American teams.”

That explained the crowds. It didn’t explain why he’d chosen a basketball game for their first date though, so she asked.

“Why else? To send a message. I wanted people to see that I’m more than a footballer. I appreciate all sports.”

“Thus broadening your appeal as a broadcaster. Clever.”

“Thank you.”

They stepped out of the ramp into the brightly lit arena filled with people. Susan had been to the O2 before, for concerts, but this was the first time she’d seen it prepped for a sports event. Below them, American basketball players were warming up on the shiny parquet floor. “Our seats are down there,” Lewis said in her ear as he pointed toward the court. His hand molded to the small of her back as he guided her down the steep steps.

They were really doing this. Pretending they were a couple. Her legs began to shake and from more than just navigating the steep stairs in stilettos. She gripped the railing.

“What’s wrong?”

She didn’t realize she’d stopped moving until Lewis spoke. He looked at her, his brown eyes narrowed in concern. “Sorry. I—It just dawned on me that we’re on a date.”

“You’re only figuring that out now?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Not really,” he replied.

Until this moment, their arrangement had been conceptual. She hadn’t thought about the fact that in order to be taken for a real couple, they would have to behave like a real couple. Which made this evening a date complete with all the touching and other date-like behavior. Lewis was going to have to pretend he was attracted to her. Did he really think they could pull this off?

They were blocking the stairs. That was one way to attract attention. “Never mind,” she said. “It doesn’t matter.”

“If you say so.”

Their seats were in the middle of the row, close to the front, but high enough they could see the entire court. They also had a clear view of the giant electronic screen that hung over center court. It was like having a one-hundred-inch television in your living room.

She looked around at the people milling about. “I doubt anyone will notice us in this crowd,” she commented.

“Oh, they’ll notice us,” Lewis replied. He leaned closer, his nose practically nuzzling the outer shell of her ear. “My agent has arranged for us to be outed after the third quarter.”

Outed? This time she had to lean into him. “What do you mean?”