Take A Number - Amy Daws Page 0,30

says with a smile. “Here you go…today’s flavor is Morello cherry with toasted almond cream.”

“I don’t know what any of that is, but I don’t care,” Max says with a hungry look in his eye. “God, look at that. It’s a work of art.”

Rachael winks at his praise. “This is actually one of my new recipes.”

“You and Norah are a dream team,” Max says with a genuine smile. “Are you going to be comfortable here all on your own when Norah’s world implodes with more business and less baking?”

“If I could keep that girl out of the kitchen, I would…but fat chance that will ever happen.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see something move, and when I look over, it’s Norah. Her blue eyes are wide, and she’s waving me over and gesturing for me to follow her to the back exit.

“I’m…going to hit the restroom,” I say, but Max and Rachael barely notice my words or my exit.

I make my way down the hallway, past the bathrooms, and out the rear exit. The warm air hits me, and my eyes find Norah standing there, waiting.

“Hey,” I say casually and straighten my glasses, feeling oddly nervous for some reason.

“Hey.” She wrings her hands in front of her, looking crazy shy.

“How are you?”

She nods. “I’m okay…you?”

“Great.” I hook my thumb back to the door. “I got a fresh croinut in there waiting for me, so my day is looking up.”

She smiles and chews her lip nervously. “Look, are you still game for this fake relationship idea? If you want out of it, you can say so now. I would totally understand.”

My brows furrow. “Norah, I wasn’t high on champagne or a delayed, teenage rebellion Friday night like you were. I was dead serious when I said we could help each other out for the next few weeks. It’s not just me doing you a favor anymore. This is mutually beneficial.”

She exhales heavily. “Good…because my mother has been blowing up my phone all weekend to host a dinner with the Hawthornes, and I’ve been ghosting her, which means she’s going to come storming in here any second now.”

I smile knowingly and hit her with a coy tone. “Norah, are you asking me to be your fake boyfriend?”

She cringes, squeezing her eyes shut, and nods. “As pathetic as that sounds, yes.”

I step toward her and wrap my arm around her shoulders, trying to loosen her up. The faint smell of vanilla and cherry hits my nose, and I get a strong urge to lean in and give her a big sniff. “This is going to be fun.”

She groans and rubs her forehead over her Led Zeppelin bandana. “I have some stipulations, though.”

I release her and cross my arms over my chest. “It would shock me if you didn’t.”

“So first of all, no one can know this is a lie. Max doesn’t know, does he?”

I cringe. “Sorry, he’s one of my closest guy friends, and I sort of told him all about the fake date plan before the party.”

“Oh my God,” she groans and scrubs her hands over her face. “I had a business meeting with him and he knew the whole time? He must think I’m so pathetic.”

“No, he doesn’t,” I snap. “He thinks you’re a boss bitch who puts work way above personal life. Plus, you’re his franchise client, so there’s client confidentiality or something.”

She pops out her hip and hits me with a look. “Have you told anybody else?”

“No, I haven’t. Scout’s honor.” I hold up three fingers and smile like a dope.

It works because the smile she shoots back to me lights up her whole stressed-out face. “Okay,” she acquiesces at last. “Rachael knows too, but she’s a steel trap. I’m not worried about her leaking it.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Norah, relax. We’re not performing a high-stakes crime here. We’re just a couple of friends being extra friendly for a while.”

Her lips thin. “Just promise it won’t get weird between us.”

“Why would it get weird?”

“I don’t know, Dean. I’ve never faked having a boyfriend before.” She turns and begins pacing. She tugs on the back of her bandana. “I don’t know where to begin with all of this.”

“Well, I have our first official outing as boyfriend and girlfriend.”

She nearly trips over her feet.

“Aspen, this weekend.”

Her eyes turn to saucers. “I can’t go to Aspen. I have to work.”

“On what?”

“On the press kits that are going out to all the media outlets for the opening of Rise and