The CEO's Contractual Wife

The bell dinged as we entered. Inside, fluorescent lights buzzed over checkerboard floors and red vinyl. booths. A tired–looking waitress named Dottie, according to her name tag, barely looked up from wiping down the counter.

“Sit anywhere,” she called out.

I led Alexander to a booth by the window, sliding onto the vinyl seat. He sat across from me, looking so out of place in his perfect suit that I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

“What?” he asked, noticing my expression.

“Nothing. You just look like you’re afraid to touch anything.”

“I’m being cautious,” he countered, picking up a laminated menu with two fingers.

Dottie shuffled over, order pad in hand. “What can I get ya?”

“Double cheeseburger with bacon, extra pickles, fries, and a chocolate shake,” I said without hesitation.

Alexander raised an eyebrow. “I’ll have the same.”

When Dottie left, he leaned forward. “How did you decide so quickly?”

“There’s only one rule at a place like this: order the thing that’ll clog your arteries fastest.” I spread my arms. “Welcome to how the other half lives, Mr. Carter.”

“I’m not that sheltered,” he protested.

“Oh, really? When’s the last time you ate something that came in a paper wrapper?”

“Tuesday. I had a protein bar between meetings.”

I rolled my eyes. “That doesn’t count. I’m talking real junk food. The kind that makes your cardiologist cry.”

“Then it’s been a while,” he admitted. “My schedule doesn’t allow for many culinary adventures.”

“That’s sad. Everyone needs a good greasy burger once in a while.”

Our shakes arrived in tall glasses topped with whipped cream and cherries. I took a long sip, closing my eyes in appreciation.

“Good?” Alexander asked, watching me.

“Heaven. Try yours.”

careful sip, his eyes widening slightly. “That’s surprisingly

by its sticky tabletops,” I said sagely, stealing his cherry. His eyes tracked my movement

burgers arrived shortly after, piled high on paper–lined baskets with golden fries spilling over the edges. Alexander stared at his

I need utensils

laughed. “No! Just pick it

looked dubious but followed my lead, taking a bite that left a smear of ketchup at the corner of his mouth. I reached across without thinking, wiping it away

aware of the

eyes

focusing on my burger. “So, what do you

he admitted, taking

I popped a fry into my mouth. “It’s one of my best

he murmured, making

comfortable silence for a few minutes, the late–night emptiness of the diner creating a bubble around

you something?”

“Of course.”

you ever wondered what would have happened if we hadn’t met that

hands on a napkin.

“And?”

would have crossed eventually.

“You really believe that?”

“Some

I teased, but his words warmed

you think you’d be if we hadn’t met?” he

Enterprises, just climbing

risen quickly regardless,” Alexander said with surprising conviction.

be realistic. The corporate world isn’t exactly a

genuine talent usually

my shake. “What about you? Where would you

curved into a wry smile. “Probably sitting

Alexander,” I mockingly pouted. “Forced to date beautiful, sophisticated

leaned forward. “Most people want something from me. It gets tedious figuring out

what’s my

different, Olivia. I’m still trying to figure that

fries.” I reached across and stole one from