Page 19 of Filthy Twisted Devil

“Right, but they’re gone now. We could go back to being friends and pretend this whole thing never happened.”

I examine his placid expression. “Is that what you want?”

He shrugs. “I just think this isn’t over. Your brothers are smart guys. If they don't see any evidence of us dating, they’ll assume you were lying. Then they’ll come straight back here to drag you home to Sundre.”

I wince because he’s right. My brothers won’t be satisfied without significant, extended proof. “Well, damn.”

Luke sips his drink. “Exactly. I don’t think we have a choice, unless you’re ready to give up starting that business.”

“Right. I’m kind of stu…but you’re not. Why would you go through all that trouble? What do you get out of it?”

“My ass, unbeaten by your brothers,” he jokes, and I roll my eyes.

“You're a public figure,” I continue, ignoring him. “Peppermint is dead, but you’re still in the Toronto gossip rotation. I'm a nobody. If people find out we're having a fake relationship, you're the one who will end up publicly humiliated, not me.”

“Exactly.” He glances up at me, and in the afternoon light, his blue-green eyes look greener. “I lost the biggest deal of my career when that Peppermint article went viral. Twisted Devil is still growing, but we still haven’t caught up to where we would be if the Air Canada deal didn’t collapse. The liquor industry is still surprisingly conservative, which means I need an image makeover.”

“What, like a wardrobe upgrade?”

“No, like a girlfriend.” He gestures down at his perfectly fitted dark jeans and soft ivory sweater. “The wardrobe is perfect.”

I almost sigh. It's true, Luke's wardrobe is perfect, masculine but tailored, casual but expensive. I've always been a sucker for his well-cut shirts that hug his slimly muscled form.

“When you say girlfriend, you me…”

“A nice, normal, pretty girl to have on my arm and in industry events. Trust me, I've looked into it. My girlfriend will do more to rebuild my image than any PR firm could. Obviously, it won't be permanent. Just long enough for things to settle down.”

I take a long sip of whiskey to give me time to think. It’s the first thing he’s said all weekend that doesn’t make him sound like a wannabe knight-in-shining-armor. It makes the whole charade more palatable.

“How long would we pretend?” I ask.

“How long will it take until your brothers are off your back?”

“No idea. Maybe months. How about you? How long will it take for your reputation to get cleaned up?”

Luke shrugs. “Couldn’t tell you. We don’t need to decide that now. We can just figure it out as we go.”

“We should have some rules, though, right? About how far we’ll go, and how we should act.”

He nods and reaches behind the bar to grab a pen and a clean cocktail napkin. “Right. Rules time. I have one, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

“Then let’s get it over with. What?”

“Rule one—the cam work ends now,” he says. “PrairieSmoke is done.”

I arch a brow. “You don't think I decided to be a camgirl for fun, do you? I need the money. I spent months looking for work and my savings are almost gone. I have to keep at it.”

“Not if you get a job. Have you heard of Flair Events?”

“Of course.” Flair isn’t the biggest event planning company in the city, but I’ve looked into every company I could find, big and small. Flair Events is known for planning cool, artsy events for up-and-coming companies, plus weddings and birthday blowouts for high-level creatives.

“They’re the event planners we use for Twisted Devil. I know for a fact that they’re about to lose one of their planners because she’s moving to London to be near family. I can make an introduction.”

I cross my arms defensively. Here he goes again, trying to save me. “How do you know they want to hire me?”

“Because they’d be stupid not to. I've been to your parties at the Whitmer. You're a perfect fit for them.”

Despite myself, pride warms my chest. “You're just saying that.”