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

its sticky tabletops,” I said sagely, stealing his cherry. His eyes

on paper–lined baskets with golden fries spilling over the edges. Alexander stared

need utensils

pick it

of ketchup at the corner of his mouth. I reached across without thinking, wiping it away with my

of the

His voice was lower, his eyes holding mine for a beat

my throat, focusing on my burger.

taking another bite. “You

into my

he murmured, making

ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the late–night emptiness of the diner creating a bubble around us. It felt strangely normal, sitting here with Alexander Carter eating

you something?” I

“Of course.”

have happened if we hadn’t

his hands on a napkin. “Honestly? I’ve thought about it

“And?”

crossed eventually. Maybe not in the

“You really believe that?”

“Some

over midnight burgers,” I teased, but

you’d be if we hadn’t

“Probably still at Carter Enterprises, just climbing the ladder much more slowly. Still

quickly regardless,” Alexander said with surprising conviction.

be

But genuine talent

shake. “What about you? Where would

where I was. Working too much.” His mouth curved into a wry smile. “Probably sitting through painful dates my

pouted. “Forced to date beautiful, sophisticated

leaned forward. “Most people want something

my

sparkled. “That’s what makes you different, Olivia. I’m still trying to figure

I