The Billionaire Bachelor (Billionaire Bad boys #1)(21)

Reese and Merina sat.

Penelope, not through yet, lifted her cell phone and read aloud, "'Reese Crane hit the town with his mystery date, but what started hot quickly moved to tepid as the two stared at their phones over sexy entrées.'" She paused to send them each a scolding glare, then continued. "'He and the woman in the red dress shared feisty looks and tantalizing smiles before the evening took on a different tone: one of business as they pecked at their iThings. The scene was set with champagne and caviar, but the aphrodisiacs at Chicago's famed Armande restaurant had no effect on these two office drones. Is Crane's tame date made to distract from the sizable issue of his hashtag? Or is this the one woman in existence who didn't fall at King Crane's feet?'"

Merina's jaw dropped.

"What paper is that?" Reese asked in a tone that suggested he'd file a lawsuit against them just for fun.

"It's the Chicago Insider—a blog. And it's already been shared across social media about two hundred times." Penelope frowned and her forehead didn't so much as pucker. Her skin was porcelain-smooth, her white suit pristine, and her jewelry winking gold. "The point is, they already smell a rat, and people are paying attention. You two are going to have to up your game."

"We coordinated our calendars. We're on the same page," Merina said, refusing to take the younger woman's abuse silently. "A few more dates and I'm sure the public will see us as a couple. This is just new. They're speculating,"

Penelope's fierce expression softened. She came to sit next to Merina, facing her, her smile in place and blue eyes bright. "Merina. You're a vibrant, beautiful woman. You're in love with a gorgeous, hunky billionaire. You were at a restaurant that served everything but sex on those plates. The reporter who happened to be there expected to see Reese and a mystery woman all but fornicate on top of the table."

Merina flinched.

"You two walked in sort of cozy according to this reporter"—Penelope gestured to her phone and then dropped it onto the table—"but you left single file. Reese, you didn't so much as palm her lower back."

"He did so," Merina snapped. "On the way to our table, he placed his palm on my back." She remembered because she'd been aware of that imprint the entire dinner. She cast a glance at Reese, who raised an eyebrow in interest.

"Regardless. Whatever you did wasn't enough to leave an impression on Rose Wells of the Chicago Insider. You two have to do better. The only opinion that matters is the public one."

"So we pander," Reese said through his teeth. Merina was in agreement with him for once. It was ridiculous.

You hired me to help you convince the world your cold heart has been thawed by a smoking hot romance."

Even though Merina had accused him of something similar last night—being cold and unfeeling—she found herself rising to his defense. There'd been a definite moment of warmth when he talked about his mom. And when he'd confessed his middle name was Harrington. Later she'd even dug out of him that Harrington was a family name. A great-uncle on his mother's side.

"Last night showed how unprepared you two are." Penelope leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. "Kiss her."

"What?" His was a voice of alarm and Merina echoed the sentimentality.

"I want to see if you can pull it off." Penelope shrugged.

"I'm not a performing monkey, Pen."

"We can pull it off," Merina chimed in. Reese looked moderately relieved that he wasn't alone in this battle. First kisses—even ones for show—were not to be trotted out in a boardroom for an audience of one. Merina didn't want a grade, for Pete's sake.

Penelope sat straight. "Good. In that case, let's review your revised schedule of events, because you two are going to need to sell it. And after the next date, if this happens again"—she waggled her phone—"we will have to reconvene and you will be practicing your PDA for me. Because right now it's PDB."

She stood and pulled a computer from her bag. Merina and Reese exchanged glances.

"PDB?" Merina asked.

Penelope tapped a few keys into her keyboard and didn't look up. "Public displays of boredom."

* * *

"She's intense," Merina said once Penelope swept out of the boardroom, her heels clicked out of the corridor as Reese watched at the window.

"She's the best. And she's trustworthy. She isn't going to run to the papers and sell this story for the highest price." A hint of a smile tickled his mouth. "She hates reporters."

Sounded like a story. It also sounded like relief. Pen was on their side, and apparently they did need someone to help them navigate the choppy waters of the media.

"She's also right," Merina said.

"Yeah," Reese agreed.

"Maybe we should practice." She fiddled with her phone, unable to look at him. "So that we're comfortable around each other." Penelope had insisted more than once that they needed to touch and touch often. Hold hands. Stare longingly into each other's eyes. Her words echoed in Merina's head now. You two should look like you can't stand that you're not alone. Like you could tear each other's clothes off at any moment.

There was simply no way to do that as long as Reese felt like a stranger.

"I don't have as much experience wooing strangers as you do." She winced at her admission. "I don't mean to say I don't know what I'm doing."

"It's okay, Merina, I know what you mean." He didn't look worried. Then again, did he ever? His face was stone, his hands in his pockets. "What do you suggest?"

His voice came out like a seductive murmur and she could have sworn his eyes dashed to her lips. But she couldn't kiss him here, in his white-and-chrome-and-glass boardroom. On his turf. She needed a few drinks first.

"How about another date tonight?"

"Fine. I'll call Tableau and—"

"No. Not another fancy dinner." Somewhere she was comfortable. "Posh.

"The martini bar?