Page 31 of Fifth Avenue Flirt

“He would never agree,” Avril says. “Because I’m not going to fall in love with him in seven days, and he’s going to get his feelings hurt. Then he won’t help me because I’ll have bruised his gigantic ego.”

That sounds like a challenge. But they can’t be serious about us spending a week together. Does Poppy want us to hit the Hamptons for a week or something?

“If that’s what you want to tell yourself,” I say.

Avril turns to me. “So, you’d be willing to try? And if I can keep my hands to myself, and keep things professional, you’d help me?”

I pause before I speak, because I don’t have an answer. There’s no way to rewind time. We have a personal relationship already. I can’t change that. But spending the week with Avril sounds…Well, I’d either end up dead or I’d finally figure out what it is about this girl that makes me like her so much. I’d discover why she’s the one person in the world who can get me to talk about cooking and my dad. The one person who I can’t read like a book.

“I’ll help you with the Boston site if you spend seven days with me,” I say, before I can think too carefully about it.

Avril stares at me, like she’s trying to process what I’m saying.

“What? You’re saying you’ll help me in a week if I hang out with you between then and now?”

“Hmm,” I say, rubbing my palm over my jaw. “No, I’m saying you need to spend seven days with me. I have plans in the next week. You probably do too. If we’re not together, then it doesn’t count.”

“I’ll cancel my plans,” Avril says, as she tips her chin up in challenge.

I chuckle. “I won’t.”

“Okay, so what are you suggesting?” she asks.

“I’m saying that if you spend seven days with me and nothing happens between us, then I’ll help you with your Boston project.”

“Sign me up,” she says, her eyes dancing with excitement. “You want a contract?”

I laugh and take a swig of my beer.

“I’m serious. Should we write this down? I don’t want you walking any of this back.”

“We don’t need a contract,” I say. “It’s simple.” But is it simple? I’m saying seven days, but what does that mean? “Twenty-four hours times seven is what?”

“One hundred and sixty-eight,” Poppy says. “Are you saying the two of you have to be on dates for a hundred and sixty-eight hours? That’s going to take a while.”

“I knew there’d be a catch,” Avril says.

“You’re right,” I say. “That’s too long.”

“Seven dates,” Avril says. “Seven lunches or dinners over seven days.”

“I’ve told you, my calendar doesn’t allow for that.” But I like the idea of enforced dating. I’m not sure I’d get to see Avril otherwise. Her spikes would stay sharp and keep me at bay.

“And a lunch can be sixty to ninety minutes, which isn’t long. And anyway, lunch has a different vibe to dinner,” Poppy interjects.

I agree, Poppy. Lunch doesn’t give me enough time with Avril. I want her evenings and her nights.

Who am I?

What has one night with Avril done to me?

Avril shifts her weight and sticks out her hip. It takes everything in me not to grab her and pull her to me. “I thought you were supposed to be on my side?” she says to Poppy.

“I’m trying to broker this deal,” Poppy says. “In order to get Ben to help, you both have got to feel like you got a good deal.”

Poppy’s smart. Both sides always have to feel like they win. That’s always my aim when I’m trying to put deals together. And I’m starting to let myself wonder what a win would be like from my perspective… It’s obvious—more time with Avril. Not because she’s going to fall in love with me, but because I want to hang out with her. I want to know her. I want to understand this power she has over me.

“But I don’t have weeks and months to get the Boston hotel. You heard Worth,” Avril says. “At the end of next week, he’s moving on.”