Contract Kisses Only

Chapter 3:The Fine Print and the Pitcher

​Evie’s POV

​I didn't wait for him to look at the menu. As soon as his expensive-jeans-clad rear hit the chair, I slid my tablet across the white linen tablecloth.

​"Let’s get down to business," I said, my voice as sharp as my eyeliner. "These are my rates. I charge a daily retainer for high-stakes family events, travel expenses are covered by the client, and I require a fifty-percent deposit upfront before I even pack a suitcase. Now, what flavor of girlfriend are we going for? The 'Damsel in Distress' who needs your protection? Or the 'Power Couple' intellectual who makes you look like you have a brain?"

​Leo blinked, looking at the tablet like it was written in ancient Greek. "Whoa, okay. Chill, sunshine. Can we at least get some caffeine in our systems first? I can't talk numbers on an empty stomach."

​"Fine," I sighed, pulling the tablet back. "But the clock is ticking."

​The waiter appeared, and the contrast between us was immediate. Leo ordered a dry-aged ribeye steak with truffle butter like he didn't have a care in the world. I looked at the menu. Being a model meant the salad was the 'correct' choice, but being a student who had skipped breakfast to make a photoshoot meant my stomach was currently eating itself.

​"I’ll have the Caesar salad," I started, then caught a glimpse of the 'Creamy Lobster Pappardelle' on the next page. "And the creamy pasta. And extra bread."

​Leo grinned. "Good. I don’t trust people who only eat leaves."

​"It’s for the brain power," I retorted. "Now, the lore. We need a backstory. My parents—or rather, the lack thereof—are a fixed variable. I grew up in an orphanage, I’m an accounting senior, I like the color emerald green, my favorite season is autumn because it’s the only time Salt City feels honest, and I have a weakness for spicy jollof rice. Your turn."

​Leo leaned back, his eyes wandering to the ceiling as if his life story was written there. "Blue. Obviously. Summer, because that’s when the pool parties are best. And I’m a fan of anything that costs more than it should."

​"Thrilling," I deadpanned. "How long have we been dating? If we say two days, your parents will smell the desperation."

​"Actually," Leo said, leaning in, his tone becoming surprisingly focused. "My parents only dropped the bomb two days ago, but I’ve been thinking. I’m a man with a brand, Evie. I have followers who... let's just say they get intense. We should tell them we’ve been dating for a month, but kept it lowkey to avoid the 'VibeCheck' paparazzi. It makes it look like I was being protective of you. Serious."

​I nodded, tapping the data into my spreadsheet. "A month. Guarded. Private. I can work with that."

​Leo’s POV

​She was a machine. A beautiful, silver-eyed, pasta-ordering machine.

​Sitting across from Evie was like trying to charm a hurricane. Every time I tried to use my 'Vane Smirk,' she hit me with a line-item veto. I was usually the one in control of the room, the one making people laugh, but she had me on edge. My palms were actually sweaty.

​Me. Leo Vane. Sweating over a girl I’m paying.

​"I need a second," I said, suddenly feeling the need to splash some water on my face and reset my 'Cool Guy' persona. "Bathroom. Don't go anywhere, I haven't paid the deposit yet."

​I bolted up from the chair, my mind already rehearsing my next move. I turned too fast, my shoulder clipping something solid.

​"Oh—!"

​Crasssh.

​A waiter, carrying a giant glass pitcher of ice-cold lemon water, went stumbling. The world moved in slow motion as two gallons of freezing, citrus-infused water launched itself directly at my chest.

​"Gah!" I gasped as the liquid soaked through my 'Casual Billionaire' blue sweater and drenched the front of my trousers. It felt like stepping into a frozen lake. I looked down, horrified. It looked like I’d either been in a wet T-shirt contest or had a very unfortunate bladder accident.

​"I am so sorry, Mr. Vane! I didn't see you—" the waiter stammered, reaching for napkins.

​"It’s fine! It’s fine!" I shouted, my voice an octave higher than usual. I didn't look at Evie. I couldn't. I sprinted toward the restroom corridor, shouting "Sorry!" over my shoulder while trying to peel the freezing wool off my skin and wishing the earth could split open and swallow me whole.

​Evie’s POV

​I watched him go—the "Salt City King" scurrying away like a wet cat.

​A small, genuine chuckle escaped my lips before I could stop it. The sight of the unflappable Leo Vane, soaked in lemon water and panic, was the most human thing I’d seen all day. The high-fashion mask I was wearing slipped, just for a second.

​He wasn't a villain. He was just... a mess.

​I sat back, watching the waiter clean up the glass. The "VibeCheck" prince was currently hiding in a bathroom stall trying to use a hand dryer on his crotch.

​I picked up my lemon water—the little bit that hadn't ended up on Leo—and took a sip.

​"Fourteen days in the mountains with this one?" I whispered to myself, a smirk playing on my red-painted lips. "This might be worth more than just the tuition."

A free luxurious vacation this is gonna be so good.