Chapter 2

      Dory froze. ‘Wait. What?’

      ‘Spend Christmas up at the family estate with me, and I’ll arrange for you to go home for New Year,’ Tyler said. ‘It’s pretty straightforward, Dory.’

      No it wasn’t. Because she’d spotted the catch. ‘Spend Christmas with you in what capacity, exactly?’

      He must have heard the suspicion in her voice, because he winced. ‘As my fake girlfriend.’

      Not just a catch. A ginormous, all-encompassing Catch with a capital C. ‘Not a chance.’

      ‘You haven’t heard the whole plan. At least hear me out,’ Tyler said, holding up his hands. ‘Besides, weren’t you the one who said that holidays are for family?’

      ‘I didn’t mean yours!’

      ‘Better than being stuck here in a strange city, all alone…’

      ‘I’m not completely sure of that.’ Spending Christmas with the Alexander family seemed infinitely more intimidating. They probably wore tuxes for dinner every single night. Dory had mastered the whole which-cutlery-to-use-first thing when she dated the son of an MP at university, but beyond that? She’d be lost. And they probably wouldn’t let her illegally stream Doctor Who on Christmas Day, either.

      ‘Come on, Dory.’ He was using his persuasive voice now. Never a good sign. ‘Think about it. You get a luxury, catered Christmas break, followed by an all-expenses-paid trip back home for New Year. And all you have to do is look adoringly at me for a few days.’

      ‘They’ll never buy it,’ she said. ‘Your mother has spoken to me on the phone. She’ll recognise my voice.’ Not to mention Lucas. She knew she’d recognise his voice again anywhere. She’d be kind of disappointed if he didn’t recognise hers.

      ‘She’s spoken to you precisely twice,’ Tyler said. ‘I don’t think she pays that much attention to my assistants.’

      ‘Still. Do you really think they’ll believe that you’re dating…’ She paused. Why wouldn’t they? She was young, attractive, exactly his type and, most importantly, awesome. ‘Do you really think they’ll believe I’d date you?’

      Tyler laughed, a deep, belly laugh. At least she’d managed to cheer him up. ‘Bear in mind, they think I’m hiding my girlfriend from them.’

      ‘Which you are.’

      ‘So they have to imagine there’d be a reason.’

      ‘Like… me being British?’ If he seriously wanted her to consider this proposition, he had to admit all the reasons it probably wouldn’t work. Of which, her nationality was the least important. She wasn’t part of his society, part of his world. That was the part no one was going to believe.

      ‘Like you being my assistant.’

      Ah, yes. That. Dory winced. ‘So, we’re going to tell them that?’

      Tyler’s gaze slid away from hers. ‘Maybe, maybe not. But if they figure it out… it’s plausible as a story, anyway.’

      ‘Wouldn’t it be easier just to take your actual girlfriend?’

      ‘Believe it or not, no.’ Tyler looked suddenly tired. ‘Look, I know it’s probably a disaster waiting to happen. But it’s the best idea I’ve got. Otherwise I’m going to be spending the entire Christmas break with my extended family asking constant questions about my personal life, questions that I really cannot answer, and I’m right back to the “breaking a leg plan” just to get away from them.’

      Dory tipped her head back and considered the ceiling for a while. On the one hand, this was clearly a very stupid idea. She’d watched the rom-coms. She knew how this ended – with everyone finding out about the deception in the most humiliating and public way possible, and hating her forever. But then, she had a few advantages over all those movie heroines.

      1) She wasn’t in love with her boss, and there was absolutely no chance of her falling in love with her boss. She knew him too well.

      2) Her boss wasn’t secretly in love with her, thank God. In fact, he seemed pretty taken with someone else.

      3) She didn’t actually care if the Alexander family hated her. Hell, Felicia probably already did, despite only talking to her twice. Once again, probably the accent.

      So, given those facts, what was she risking, really? And was spending New Year with her family – and keeping up the illusion of her perfect life in front of her nearest and dearest – worth the risk?

      ‘Do you promise that whatever happens I won’t lose my job?’ Dory asked.

      ‘Absolutely. You’re unexpectedly and inexplicably the best assistant I’ve ever had.’ Tyler looked too confused by the fact for her to take this as an actual compliment. ‘After the holidays, we’ll just decide that we’re better as friends, or we need to keep things professional, or something.’

      Yeah, that sounded well thought out. But since the break-up would be his problem, as long as she still had her job at the end of it, Dory wasn’t too worried.

      ‘And you’ll fly me business class back home in time for New Year? And give me two weeks’ holiday there?’ May as well push the boat out, she figured.

      Tyler raised an eyebrow. ‘If that’s what you want. Personally, two weeks seems far too long to spend with family, but who am I to question the English way? So you’ll do it? Spend three days with my family and faithfully swear to be the woman in the photos? And – this is important – not ask questions?’

      Dory bit her lip. No questions? She didn’t like the sound of that. ‘No questions at all?’

      ‘Not if you want the trip.’

      She should demand to know who the other woman was, why he couldn’t take her. But she really wanted to go home for New Year…

      ‘Do you snore?’

      ‘I said no questions.’

      Dory sighed. ‘I’m in.’

      ***

      Two days later, late afternoon on December 23^rd, Dory rolled her suitcase out of the lift – no, sorry Tyler, elevator – straight past her desk and into Tyler’s office. She’d negotiated the day off to prepare for the horrors ahead. But now it was nearly time to go and Tyler was still working.

      He glanced up as she entered, but his attention went right back to his paperwork the moment he realised it was only her. That kind of attitude wasn’t going to convince anyone that he was madly in love with her. The man in that photo had looked considerably more besotted.

      ‘I’m guessing the perfect boyfriend act doesn’t start until we actually get there, then?’ she said, dropping into the chair opposite his desk. His suitcase was propped up against the wall in the corner of the office, which was something.

      ‘Mmmhmm.’ He didn’t even look up that time. How had the idiot ever got so many women to fall for him in the first place?

      ‘I’ve got the train times here,’ she told him.