Fake Date, Real Fate

The mall walkthrough wrapped up with a blur of polite goodbyes and tight handshakes.

Mr. Johnson kept his distance after that last exchange, suddenly very interested in talking to literally anyone else.

We slid into Adrien’s car in silence, the door shutting with a soft click and he started driving.

I adjusted my seatbelt, pretending to scroll through my phone.

"So," I said sweetly, not looking at him, "She’s my woman, huh?"

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even glance my way.

"Contextually accurate," he replied smoothly.

I snorted. ""Seriously? Not even a twitch? You just dropped that like it was a weather update."

"Should I apologize for being factual?"

"I mean..." I tilted my head toward him. "You basically growled it. In public. To a client. During a walkthrough."

Still no reaction. Just a slight tightening of his grip on the wheel.