I Hate, I Bake, and I Don’t Date! by Alina Jacobs

14

Tess

Uhhh what? His what? Girlfriend? Who, moi?

No.

Nope.

Tess does not date.

I will be single forever. No men. I hate men.

Beck was sorely misinformed if he thought I was going to be his fake love interest.

But my boss’s eyes were slightly wide and desperate when I glared at him.

Ugh, curse him for being handsome and caring!

For as much shit as I had given him, now he wasn’t the asshole billionaire. Now he was the underdog fighting desperately to keep from losing his sisters. I couldn’t be the bitch that cost him the girls. I would never climb out of the karma deficit, and I needed good karma.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to act cheery.

“Absolutely,” I chirped. “We’re totally in love, and I’m just waiting for the proposal. Isn’t that right, sweetie?”

Sweetie? Is that what you called a boyfriend? Seemed a little off. Maybe I should have used “babe.” But that made me think of the talking pig movie. Shit, I’d never had a boyfriend. I mean, what were you even supposed to do with one? Feed him once a day then lock him in a closet until you needed to get off?

The girls’ grandmother looked between us. She didn’t seem convinced. Probably because Beck was standing next to me, frozen. Of course he was. Typical man, absolutely useless in a crisis.

Leave it to the assistant to make sure things don’t fall apart.

I slipped an arm around his waist. “Just when I thought he couldn’t get any hotter, he turns out to be the best daddy to these little girls.”

Beck’s eye twitched slightly then he robotically turned his head and gave a smile that felt like more of a grimace. “We’re just trying to be one big, happy, normal family.”

I smiled so wide my cheeks hurt. “Completely loving and, above all, very normal.”

Come on! Buy what we’re selling!

Ethel seemed intrigued. “It appears I was misinformed, Mr. Svensson,” she said with a perfunctory nod. “I must admit, while I was prepared to do my duty to become the guardian of my granddaughters, it was not what I had imagined my widowed years to involve.” She pressed a hand to her throat, holding on to the pendant that hung at her neck.

“When my daughter was lured to Wyoming to join the cult, you should have heard how everyone around town gossiped. They said I was a terrible mother. My late husband and I had tried for years to rescue her, to persuade her to give up the life on the compound and finally come home. While I would of course keep those old busybodies away from the girls, I must admit it would be nice to have a normal relationship with my granddaughters—go shopping, go for a nice lunch, show them off to my friends, then send them home to a loving two-parent household.”

Parent? I made a noise, and Beck elbowed me. Thankfully, Ethel didn’t notice.

“I would like to be a proper grandmother and not one who is raising her misguided and delinquent daughter’s children. And while they need a woman’s influence, it is so important to have a loving father figure.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Beck said firmly. “We are committed to giving them the perfect childhood they didn’t have on the compound.”

Ethel peered at us. “Now don’t think I’m just going to hand them over to you. After my daughter was lured away and ran off right when she turned eighteen, I’m not in the mood to trust any Svensson men. And your girlfriend has pizza sauce all over her shirt.”

“Actually, ma’am, that’s coffee,” Beck said, irritated. “She spilled it all over herself in the office.”

I looked down at my shirt and raised an arm. “To be fair, I also have pizza sauce on this shirt. Dang it, I thought this one was clean.”

“She’s usually a lot more together,” Beck said.

“I’m totally way more together,” I assured Ethel. I felt something give at my chest.

Stupid safety pin.

Hold together, hold together.

“You will both have another opportunity to impress me,” Ethel said, perching gold-rimmed glasses on her nose and taking out a small planner. “This Friday and every Friday after, we will gather for dinner. I also expect you and your soon-to-be fiancée at a charity function I will be hosting a week from Saturday.” She made notes in the leather-bound planner.

I rifled in my bag for my phone to add the events to Beck’s calendar.

“And you’ll bring the other girls?” Ethel asked, snapping the planner closed.

“Only these two are full sisters,” Beck explained with a frown. “The other girls have different mothers.”

Ethel’s lips curled in obvious disgust. “Your father was a monster.”

“He’s in jail now,” Beck said quietly.

“Believe me, I heard,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

“Tess, the girls, and I are of course looking forward to Friday night,” my boss said after an awkward moment.

“I expect that you will all impress me with your charm, wit, and parenting skills,” Ethel said, adjusting her purse.

Sproing!

The safety pin gave up and ricocheted off the ceiling. I hastily pulled the gaping front of my blouse closed while Beck made a strangled noise.

Ethel looked at me then straightened her suit jacket.

“There does appear to be room for improvement.”

“Please,”Beck begged after dragging me into his office and leaving the girls at my desk.

“Every single Friday night plus random Saturdays? For how long?” I demanded, pacing around the room. “This is insane. I have plans on Friday.”

“No, she doesn’t!” Maeve yelled through the glass.

I stuck my head out of the door. “I could have plans.”

“You just go home and bake,” she reminded me. “It’s not like you have hot dates lined up.”

I went back into Beck’s office. He was still standing at his desk with that worried look on his face that made him seem softer and slightly younger and also made me want to wrap him in a blanket and stroke his hair.

Good grief!

“I might start dating,” I lied. No way was I dating. But I didn’t want to give up my Friday nights complete with lonely drinking, wallowing in self-pity, and stress baking.

“You can’t date,” he said flatly. “You need to pretend to be my girlfriend.”

“Until…” I rolled my hands.

“Until I adopt the girls.” He ran a hand through his normally perfectly styled hair.

He really is upset about this.

“To even consider it, I need a little quid pro quo,” I said, fists on my hips. “What’s in it for me? A raise? Unlimited no-questions-asked credit card?”

“How about I don’t fire you,” he said, grabbing my shoulder. His touch was electric. The safety pin that was holding my blouse shut was about to give way again. With the way he had my heart racing, I was surprised my bodice hadn’t already ripped.

“You’ve already fired me before. You need to try a different position, otherwise a girl will just get bored,” I joked.

He let me go with an annoyed grunt.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll be your girlfriend, but I’m not making out with you or sleeping with you.”

“Of course not.” Beck’s lip curled in disgust.

Was it really that gross of an idea to sleep with me?

Guess so.