Faking It Read Free

as she could. A soft scuff of footsteps warned her just before he fell into stride with her again, and the rain stopped once more. She nearly tripped over her toes and stumbled to a halt, eyes wide.
    “Look, it’s really nice of you to play the gentleman, but…”
    “…but I am already going this way.” He shrugged one broad shoulder. “But if you enjoy pneumonia…”
    “Point taken.”
    Her nervous little laugh was met with only silence. She clamped her mouth shut, folded her arms over her damp chest, and hunched into herself. This was mortifying. Getting chaperoned to lunch by a total stranger who decided to take pity on the walking disaster. It wouldn’t be quite so embarrassing if he wasn’t so gorgeous. She must be making a great first impression: soaked down to her panties, hair drenched and sticking to her face, make-up running everywhere. She wished she’d spent the extra two dollars for the waterproof mascara.
    She glanced at him sidelong, but he was looking straight ahead. The left shoulder of his dark suit was somehow darker, and she realized— “You’re getting your suit wet!”
    He shrugged. “Water dries.”
    “That suit had to cost ten thousand dollars!”
    “Did it?” He glanced down at himself, lips thinning slightly. “I didn’t check the receipt.”
    How nice for you, she thought, but bit her tongue. She seemed to be doing that a lot today. “Still. At least let me pay for your dry cleaning, mister…?”
    “Rory,” he said. “Derek Rory.”
    “Stephanie Miller,” she said, then fumbled in her purse until she found one of her business cards. “Here. So you can send me the bill.”
    He tucked the card in his pocket without looking at it. He was probably used to women finding ways to give him their number. God, she hoped he didn’t think it was a pickup line.
    With the way her day was going, the last thing she needed was an awkward rejection. She still had the investor meeting this afternoon, and after the storm, karma owed her a few points on the good side.
    But all he said was, “You’re cold.”
    “What?”
    “You’re shivering.” He started to shrug out of his jacket. “You’ll catch sick.”
    She held her hands up and forced a smile. “That’s really not necessary. Besides, here’s my stop.” She gestured at the TGIFriday’s across the street. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”
    Still he remained silent. But with the way his eyes drifted over her again, she suddenly wasn’t feeling very cold at all, and her breath caught. Her pulse felt like a little drum inside her throat, and as if he could hear it, his gaze lingered on her neck. She flushed.
    “Right, well…I’ll just be going. Yep. Thanks again, Mr. Rory. Have a nice day.”
    She turned and scampered across the street, ducking into a break in traffic without even waiting for the light. The rain had a few more moments to prick her with its damp needles before she dipped under the awning outside the restaurant. She took a moment to straighten her clothing as much as possible. She’d have to slip into the bathroom before going back to work, and hope she could make herself presentable again with a little creative use of the hand dryer.
    She heard footsteps at her back, and the snap of an umbrella closing. She was blocking the door. It wasn’t until she stepped aside that she realized Derek had come up behind her and was still watching her with that unnerving, deadpan silence. There was no way someone dressed like him was on his way to Friday’s.
    Not her business. He didn’t say anything to her, so he was probably just waiting for her to get out of the way. She flashed him her patented Stephanie Miller Awkward Smile™ and slipped inside.
    The hostess offered a brief smile, barely sparing a glance for Stephanie’s sodden clothing. “Table for one?”
    “No, I’m here to meet—”
    “Her brother,” Aaron said, and rose from one of the seats in the waiting area to pull her into a quick, tight hug,