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.”

a careful sip, his eyes widening

I said sagely, stealing his cherry. His

golden fries spilling over the edges.

I need utensils

pick it up

a bite that left a smear of ketchup at the corner of his

I said, suddenly aware of the intimacy

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

on my

admitted, taking another

into my mouth. “It’s one

he murmured, making me

silence for a few minutes, the late–night emptiness of the diner creating a bubble around us. It felt strangely normal, sitting here

I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

have happened if we hadn’t met

a napkin. “Honestly? I’ve thought about it more than

“And?”

crossed eventually. Maybe not in the same way, but

“You really believe that?”

nodded. “Some

midnight burgers,” I teased, but his words warmed

you’d be if we hadn’t

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

Alexander said with surprising

let’s be realistic. The corporate world isn’t exactly a

genuine talent usually finds

shake. “What about

I was. Working too much.” His mouth curved into a wry smile. “Probably sitting

pouted. “Forced to date

want something from me. It

my angle?”

makes you different, Olivia. I’m still

your fries.” I