I step out of the elevator and into the polished, stark-white lobby of Ritter Agency. I’m still shocked I got the role. Kevin Ritter chose me? What planet is this?

My thoughts drift back to our phone call. Kevin asked if I was still interested, and of course I said yes. Who would pass up an opportunity like this? He told me to come down to his office the next day so his lawyer could hash out the details with us.

Us. That means I am about to meet Tate Gunner.

My knees go weak as I walk up to the prim-looking receptionist. I hadn’t recognized Kevin’s name when I met him, but a quick Google search changed that. He’s a big-time agent for some of Hollywood’s biggest stars, and his biggest client is my new boyfriend. Kevin definitely had a lot riding on this arrangement working out.

No pressure.

I give my name, and then find myself ushered down the hall into the spacious office of the man in charge. Kevin rises from his desk as I walk in. “Ms. Laine, thank you for joining us,” he says, smiling and motioning me to the chair across from him.

I’m halfway across the room when my eyes find him. He’s sitting on the couch by the window watching me.

I halt, unable to move under his gaze. He’s not hot—he’s frickin’ gorgeous. The movies don’t do him justice. He’s effortlessly handsome in a tight white t-shirt, dark skinny jeans, and a pair of dark Rainbows. Light scruff dots his sharp jawline, and his thick, sandy-brown hair is swept back; not a strand out of place. High cheekbones lead up to sharp green eyes and a prominent brow. My eyes glide across his tanned biceps to his chest, and I know without touching that it’s hard as a rock. I guess that’s what a personal chef and trainer do for you, huh?

So I get to date the spitting image of Michelangelo’s David? Hell yes.

“Like the view?” the statue says with a smirk.

My face heats up, and I wrench my eyes from that gorgeous face. “Oh. Uh, sorry,” I stammer. I can’t believe I got caught gawking at him! Not the best first impression…

I take a step toward him and hold out my hand. “I’m Charlotte, by the way.”

My new boyfriend doesn’t move from the couch. He glances at my outstretched hand and arches an eyebrow.

I frown and let my arm fall to my side. “I’m a huge fan. I’ve followed your career, seen all of your movies. You’re really, really talented.”

Tate laughs. “Aww, we’ve got a fan, Kev,” he says in the most condescending voice I’ve ever heard.

On second thought, Tate Gunner’s first impression sucks worst than mine.

“Why don’t you two join me over here?” Kevin says, ignoring his client. Me and my bright red face hightail it over to his desk. I throw myself into a seat and stare straight ahead, drowning in my mortification.

Tate saunters over a minute later, taking his sweet ass time. He gently lowers himself into the empty chair next to me and turns to me. His attention makes me squirm.

Kevin clears his throat. “First of all, thank you both for agreeing to do this—”

“I didn’t,” Tate interrupts. “You made me.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I stammer out.

Kevin throws Tate a nasty look. “Tate’s still coming around to the idea.”

I frown. “You, um, mean Tate didn’t hold the audition?”

Tate snorts. “God, no. I think this is a terrible idea.”

“Oh. Then why are you doing this?”

Good Lord, could I get hold of my vocal chords already?

Tate shrugs. “Because apparently my career is dead in the water if I don’t shack up with a ball and chain.”

“What did you just call me?”

Kevin holds up a hand. “That’s enough. Tate, stop being such an ass to Charlotte. She’s here to do you a favor.”

Tate rolls his eyes and bites back a yawn.

My frown deepens into a scowl. “Am I boring you?”

He smirks at me. “Not at all, darlin’. I’m just tired from clubbing last night.”

Oh my GOD. I clench my jaw and glare down at my hands. What have I signed up for?

“Well this is off to a spectacular start,” Kevin mutters, clearly sharing my reservations. “Tate, just keep your mouth shut for the rest of the meeting, okay?” He reaches out and taps his phone.

“Yes, Mr. Ritter?” comes the cool voice of the assistant.

“We’re ready for Mr. González.” He clicks off and stares at us. “I called you both in here today for two reasons. The first is so you could get to know each other…” He lets out a heavy sigh. “I think we’ve moved past that. The second is to go over your contract—”

Kevin stops as a smartly dressed gentlemen walks into the office. “Paulo,” Kevin says, standing to shake his hand, “thanks for coming on such short notice. I’d like to introduce you to our leading lady, Charlotte Laine—”

I stand to shake his hand.

“—and Tate you know.”

Tate gives Paulo a quick nod as he pulls out his phone.

Kevin shakes his head once, and turns to his lawyer. “Take my desk, Paulo. I need to see to another client while you go over the particulars of this arrangement.” Kevin smiles at me and Paulo, then walks out the door.

I turn to the man now sitting behind Kevin’s desk. Everything about this man is meticulous. His perfectly coifed salt-and-pepper hair, his pressed suit and matching tie, manicured fingers, and flashy watch—cha-ching!

But of course he’d be loaded. He had his hands full as Tate Gunner’s lawyer.

“Why don’t we get started,” Paulo says, carefully placing a thick stack of papers on top of the desk. He whips out a fountain pen from his breast pocket, screws open the cap, and rests his hand over the pile. He leans forward and flashes bleached teeth at us—well, to me, since I’m the only one paying attention.

“Charlotte, I see you’ve already signed a nondisclosure at your audition?”

I nod.

“Good, then we can move on to the contract.”

“Um, contract?”

“Yes, dear, so you and Tate know what’s expected of each of you.” He glances at Tate. “And so certain ground rules are laid.”

Oh. Oh.

“Got it,” I answer.

Paulo nods and then glances at the contract in his hands. “First, Charlotte Laine agrees to be Tate Gunner’s girlfriend for the foreseeable future. To be specific—”

“This isn’t forever, is it?” Tate interrupts, eyes still on his phone.

“No,” Paulo answers gently. “Specifically, until Tate is offered another acting contract.”

“So…this could be for a few weeks or a year?” I ask.

Tate scoffs next to me. “Like I would be out of work for a year.”

Paulo’s smile tightens. “Yes, Charlotte. Do you agree?”

I bite my lip. “I agree.”

“Great. Let’s move on to cohabitation—”

“What?” Tate and I ask in unison. We glance at each other, then away.

“You’ll be cohabitating,” Paulo says smoothly, like it isn’t crazy. “You’re in a serious relationship now.”

“Whatever,” Tate mutters under his breath. I don’t like the idea either, but after seeing Tate pout in his chair, I keep my mouth shut.

“Now,” Paulo continues, “the only loose end to decide is who will move in with whom.”

“Oh, well, I’m happy—” I begin.

“She’ll live with me, of course,” Tate interrupts.

I scrunch up my nose. “Why ‘of course’?”

“I have a property in the Hills, babe,” Tate says with a smug look. “You’ve probably got some shitty place in Koreatown with three roommates.”

The arrogance exuding from this man is making me sick. I take a deep breath, remind myself that this is a job, and nod. “Fine.”

Paulo jots something down in the contract. “Let’s keep moving, shall we? Next is the celibacy clause…”

Oh Lord. I already know what Tate’s going to—

“No way,” Tate snarls, pointing a finger at Paulo. “A celibacy clause?”

“Yes. It states that neither of you will have relations outside of this relationship for the remainder of your contract.”

Now it’s my turn to object. “Relations outside of the relationship? Um, there will be no ‘relations,’ period.”

Tate sits back and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m going to wander if I have this prude to come home to.”

Prude? I clasp my hands together in my lap, fighting to keep my temper. I desperately want to rip my egotistical boyfriend’s head off right now, but then I’d be fired and Bianca will take my place.

“My sincerest apologies, Tate,” Paulo says, lying through his teeth, “but you don’t have a choice. You can’t be seen around town with other women if you want people to think you’re in a serious relationship.” Paulo puts his pen down and stares at Tate. “Is this a deal breaker?”

Tate throws me an angry glance and then runs a hand over his eyes. “No.”

“Wonderful!” Paulo snatches up his pen and flips the page. “We’ve reached the extracurriculars section. Both of you will be expected to attend a battery of formal events during your relationship.”

Tate perks up. “Really? Like what?”

“Lend your appearance non profit events, awards shows, walk the red carpet at a premier—”

“I’m not attending black tie events every week.”

“Again, nonnegotiable. Kevin was very particular that you need to attend high profile functions. Not go clubbing.”

“What’s wrong with a little bar-hopping every now and then?”

Paulo arches an eyebrow. “Apparently, it was a little more than ‘every now and then.’”

I stifle a laugh, earning a glare from Tate. Whatever. I’m looking forward to all these black tie events. This is my chance to meet the movers and shakers of Hollywood, to really make connections.

“So I like to have a little fun,” Tate argues. He glances at me. “This one could use a good night out.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re uptight, honey. Loosen up a bit.”

“My name is Charlotte,” I bite back.

Tate smirks. “Feisty.”

“Alright!” Paulo interrupts, holding up his hand. “Tate, that’s enough. Can I please have your agreement that you will attend these events with Charlotte?”

“It’s not like I have a choice.”

“And behave?” Paulo adds.

Tate scowls. “Fine.”

Paulo gives a heavy sigh. I can see his polished veneer cracking the longer he deals with Tate. Yup. Can’t wait to get this relationship started…

“Lastly,” Paulo continues, flipping a few more pages, “we need to discuss Charlotte’s compensation. Charlotte, we—”

“She’s getting paid?” Tate interrupts.

I glare at him. “Would you just let him finish for once?”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Someone has to!”

Tate turns to Paulo. “Is she allowed to talk to me like that?”

The lawyer shrugs.

Tate scowls. “There has to be something in that thing that says she has to be nice.”

“Nothing,” Paulo answers happily.

“But…she’s supposed to make people think we’re in love!” Tate argues.

Paulo rubs his temples. “Tate, she’s your girlfriend. If anything, I’d say she’s already doing a fantastic job at playing that part.”

Tate fumes. “Whatever. Anyway, why is she getting paid?”

“She auditioned for a paid position. Why do you think she’s doing this?”

Tate gets that smug look again, and I know what he’s going to say before he opens his mouth. “For the chance to date me, of course.”

Insufferable, egotistical—

“Tate,” Paulo begins slowly, trying not to laugh, “this may come as a surprise to you, but you’re not an easy guy to, um, date.”

“I don’t date,” Tate says, shifting in his chair, “but women line up down the block to be seen with me.”

Paulo clears his throat. “Yes, well Charlotte isn’t one of them. She’s been thoroughly vetted and is skilled. We have to pay her for her services.”

Tate frowns. “I would rather choose who I’m going to be tethered to for the undetermined future. I agreed to have a girlfriend, but this—” he motions to me “—is impossible to work with.”

Um…what?

I remind myself not to lose my temper. “I’m sorry you think this is the worst thing to happen to you,” I say to Tate, plastering a smile on my face, “but why don’t we make the best of it?”

“See?” Tate cries. He looks at Paulo. “She’s pretty, but boring—“

Hold on.

“—and naive—”

I’m sitting right here!

“—and woefully unprepared to hack it in my world,” Tate finishes.

I turn in my chair until I’m fully facing him. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Oh, calm down, darlin’.”

“If you call me darlin’ one more time, I’m going to lose it.”

Tate turns to Paulo, waiting for him to do something. When it’s clear he has no intention of interfering, Tate jumps to his feet. “I won’t stand for being spoken to like this. I’m telling Kevin this is off.” He jabs a finger at me. “And you can kiss this sweet little gig goodbye, darlin’.”

Tate shoves past my chair and marches to the door. “Go ahead and rip up that contract, Paulo,” Tate says as he wrenches open the door and leaves. I can hear him yelling at the receptionist, demanding to see Kevin.

I slowly turn back to Paulo. “Am I fired?”

“I haven’t seen someone upset Tate like that in years!” Paulo says, his body shaking with laughter. “It was…refreshing.”

I slump in my chair. “So I am fired.”

Paulo wipes his eyes. “On the contrary, my dear. This is exactly what Kevin hoped for.”

“And that is…?”

“To not let his client walk all over you. Tate’s head has grown along with his career. He’s difficult, to say the least.” Paulo pauses and nods toward the agreement. “The real questions is, are you still interested?”

I cross, then recross my legs. “I don’t know.”

“Maybe your compensation will ease your fears.” Paulo picks up his pen and fixes his eyes on me. “We’re prepared to offer you one hundred thousand dollars per month until Tate gets a contract.”

I’m pretty sure my jaw dropped all the way to the floor. “What?”

Paulo smiles. “Is that satisfactory?”

Is that…

“Yes!” I say, almost jumping to my feet. I clear my throat and get my volume under control. “Yes, that will be fine.”

“Alright, then,” Paulo stands up and offers me his hand. “Nice to meet you, Charlotte. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again.”

I watch him move toward the door through dazed eyes. One hundred thousand dollars for a month’s worth of work? That’s more money than I could’ve dreamed of as a waitress.

“Oh, and Charlotte?”

I turn back. “Yes?”

“Good luck.” Paulo raises an eyebrow. “I think you’ll need it.”