Worth the Risk_ A Contemporary - Megan Hart Page 0,6

say the same thing," Laila remarked. She held out her hand for him to shake.

He reached across the table to take her proffered hand. His sleeve dipped into the remnants of chocolate icing. When he let go of Laila's hand and returned his arm to his side, the mess slopped onto his formerly white oxford shirt.

"You just got--oh, boy." Laila handed another wad of napkins to the oblivious Hal, who hadn't even noticed the stain on his shirt or sleeve. "Hal, you are a real mess, aren't you?"

"I am, I am," he answered ruefully. He took the napkins from her and succeeded in smearing the glop on his shirt even further. With a heavy sigh, he threw the pile of soiled paper on the table. "It's no use. I should just go."

"No!" Laila surprised herself by saying. Despite his clumsiness, his obvious awkwardness, she wanted him to stay. She was desperate.

"No?"

"No," she said firmly. She handed him the glass of water she hadn't planned on drinking and a handful of fresh napkins. "Use this. It might help."

Laila suddenly didn't know what else to say. She barely dated, much less hired men to pretend to be in love with her. Something about the situation made her normal confidence disappear until she felt as awkward as Hal looked.

"Do you come here often?" The line would have been a cliché out of anyone else's mouth. From Hal it merely rang with straightforward interest.

"Sometimes," Laila replied. "I love tea."

He looked at the pot. "It gives me indigestion."

"Oh."

Now they simply stared at each other, the dim lighting painting both of them with shadows. Hadn't Ms. Whitehead said that all LoveMatch's escorts were masters in the art of conversation? Laila was beginning to see why Ms. Whitehead had given her this night for free.

"Miss Alster--"

"Call me Laila."

He smiled. He did have a nice smile, just as she'd earlier thought.

"Laila. Ms. Whitehead said you were looking for an escort to take you on vacation?"

"Not exactly." Laila toyed with her unused fork. "My grandparents are having the family get together for a week at a resort in the Poconos to celebrate their sixtieth wedding anniversary."

"Great!" Hal said enthusiastically.

She eyed him over her squashed cake. "They think I'm engaged."

"And you want me to pretend to be your fiancé."

No matter what else he was, he wasn't dumb. "Yes. I'm the only child left in my family who isn't married."

"What about your parents?" He interrupted, taking out a small notepad and pen from his pocket.

"My dad passed away two years ago, but Mom is still in good health. The party is for my dad's folks." Bemused, she watched him write that down.

"Siblings?"

"Three brothers and a sister. I'm the second youngest."

He wrote that down, too, then looked up at her earnestly. "And your family is pressuring you to get married."

"You guessed it."

"So you've been telling them you have a boyfriend for a while now, and they're expecting to meet him. You need me to spend the week acting like an idiot, then break up with you so they'll leave you alone."

Laila nodded, impressed how quickly he figured out the situation. "Is my plan that transparent?"

Hal shook his head. "In my business, we hear a lot of stories."

She wanted to ask him what kind of stories, but didn't. Maybe she didn't really want to know. "Do you think you can handle the job?"

Hal put the notepad and pen down on the table very carefully. His face was serious when he met her eyes. "Laila, why, out of all the escorts in the LoveMatch files, did you pick me? I know that most of the men who work for my company are much--better."

"I picked you because you have a kind face." Laila's answer surprised even herself, but it was worth it when she saw Hal's smile again.

"If you don't mind my asking," he said. "Why don't you have a real boyfriend?"

"I did. He died." The blunt words tumbled from her mouth without grace, but the story wasn't one she could tell delicately. "He was in a car accident three years ago."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Laila said, because telling him the truth--that she wasn't particularly sorry-- sounded too cold when spoken aloud. "It was easier to go to LoveMatch."

"And you picked me? I'm a klutz," Hal said with naked honesty. "I always mess up. Half the time I can't even remember to make sure I'm wearing socks that match." He stuck his leg up on the table. "See? This one's blue. The other one's black, I'll