Gasps, including mine, fill the tent. He can’t be serious. Eager eyes stare at me, waiting for my answer. Mr. Kendall smiles, and, dammit, Pollux has really put me in a bad spot. Horrendous. He doesn't realize how family oriented this stodgy board is. This is a company where marital status and being “solid” is in direct correlation to my making partner. I already have one failed marriage I need to redeem myself from. How will it look if I say no?

Unsure of what to do, I do the only thing I can think of. “Yes, I’ll marry you,” I answer, and he pulls me in for a kiss. I hate him.

“You’ve made me the happiest man,” his deep voice gushes.

My cheeks flame as he twirls me around, hugging me and planting me back on my shaky legs.

A few girls from HR head over, smiling and giddy.

“Congratulations, Katy,” Debra beams, giving Pollux a once-over. “We didn’t even know you had a boyfriend. But, we know how private you are.”

She’s right. I am. I don’t fraternize with my employees anymore. After my divorce, I learned that cut-throat gossip follows and ends up in the ears of the board of directors.

“Thank you,” I tell her.

I smile as Pollux boasts about our bright future with the men who hold my future with the company in their hands.

Frank and Robert love him, which is good for me. They were the biggest champions of my ex-husband, Travis Vanderlin—the jackass who assured me I wasn’t qualified to break the glass ceiling in this company, nor would I ever achieve his level of success. Here or anywhere.

Now, I’m determined to prove to my friends and family I can stand on my own. More so, I want to prove it to myself I don’t need anyone. I don't want to be anyone’s workhorse; I want to be their equal.

But, at what cost am I willing to go for it? Yes, I want to be a partner, but am I willing to pretend? Sure, I could go to another company, but the pay here is astronomical, and the benefits are even better.

And, what’s his angle, anyways? What does he have to gain?

Why can't I have one night of being reckless and careless without it blowing up in my face? Now I can’t get him to vanish.

“I don’t have a ring,” I say to Pollux when the excitement has fizzled and everyone’s congratulatory ten minutes are up.

He grabs a baby’s breath from one of the centerpieces on the table. Twisting it in his fingers, he bends it and ties it into a circle. He slips it on my finger, and his dark eyes gleam. “This can work for now.”

For the next few hours, we play the part. He charms the suspendered pants off the partners, even James, and I let him. Why not? Everyone loves him.

I’ll wait until after the party to figure out what his deal is. For now, I need to play the game.

After lunch is served and cleared away, James waddles up. “Hey, my favorite couple. Pollux, we have another gala event on Friday. I assume you’ll be there?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Pollux says, coolly.

An idea forms, one that I hate more than anything. One that feels a little like giving in. But, in this corporate world where everything is determined on family values—I need him. The holiday season is filled with charity events and high society functions. Sometimes two in a week. I’m going to need Pollux for all of them. This is the time of year when Masters pats themselves on the back for a job well done and lobbies to keep their top clients for the next year. After the parties, after the New Year, I’ll be announced partner, and we can end our facade of a relationship.

When only a few people linger, Pollux and I slip on our coats and step out into the winter air of New York City.

“Well, Miss Fiancée, where to now? Your place?”

I peer at him, catching the twinkle in his dark eyes. “I have a proposition for you.”

Sliding his hands in his pockets, he blows out a breath that wisps in the frigid air. “Sounds interesting. Lead the way.”

We walk a few blocks and slip inside a small diner filled with Frank Sinatra pictures on the walls and red, vinyl booths. We take one in the back and order coffee from the overtired waitress.

He rests his arm along the back of the booth, studying me. His sexy is distracting. Masculine jaw, straight nose. His bottom lip is slightly fuller than the top and perfect for grabbing with your teeth. But it's the slight dimple in his left cheek that is the killer. The fluorescent spotlights overhead catch the gleam in his dark hair and my fingers itch to run through it. He’s exactly the type of man I go for. Businessman, suit and tie. A man who orders a black cup of coffee instead of some frilly Frappuccino like me. A man who is caught up in current affairs and votes every election day. I’ve always found myself attracted to these types of men, because I play in their world.

But, even though he seems perfect for me, there’s still a hint of mystery to him. A dirtier, filthy side. No man I’ve ever met would fuck me with reckless abandon in the bathroom.

He raises his brows, signaling me to get on with it. Where do I even begin? “First, why did you propose? Why did you do all of that?”

“Seemed like fun, sweetface.”

“Can you call me Katy, please?”

He leans in and smiles as he takes a sip of his coffee. His eyes roam over the battered interior of the diner and then land back at me. “So, seemed like everyone liked me at the picnic...Katy.”

“Yeah, maybe a little too much. So, I was thinking...” I pause. Am I really about to do this?

“Uh oh. Sounds dangerous.”

I twist the flower band on my ring finger. “I want to hire you to play my fiancé through the holiday season. A few more events and company parties.” Rip it off like a band-aid. “I can compensate you.”

His dark eyes sweep over my face. “Let me get this straight. Be your man, and you compensate me.”

“Well, no. You won’t technically be my man.” I lean over the table, whispering the next phrase, “What happened in the bathroom was a one-time deal.”

Kills me to say that, because this man exudes sexuality.

“Pity.” The way he runs the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip, has me wondering what the restrooms are like in here. No. Stop.

I sit up straighter. “Pollux, this is a business deal,” I emphasize. “You’ll pretend like you did today at the picnic, and we can break up after I make partner.”

“How long is that?”

“Right after the holiday season. It can work.”

“And the compensation?” he asks, running his hand over the light stubble on his chin.

What do you offer someone who has everything? I can tell by his designer clothes and DaVinci watch he doesn’t need money. “I don’t know. What do you want?”

He glances up to the ceiling and then his eyes land back on me. “How many events?”

“Six or seven.”

And then he asks for the one thing I least expect, “How about sex?”