Free Beauty and the Boss (Modern Fairytales) by Diane Alberts

straightened and gripped her purse tight. “I don’t want to do that, either.”
    “Good, because—” He froze, her words finally hitting him. His stomach twisted into a tight, mangled ball, and he shook his head. “Wait, what do you mean? You said you’d go through with it. You promised.”
    “That was before. Look, we’re simply not a match. Fake or real, we’d never work. I’ll never be able to sell this.” She gestured between the two of them. “Sure, you’re a good kisser, and you have a great knee, but that wouldn’t be enough to make me love you, let alone marry you, in real life. And anyone who knows me would call me on it.”
    “We only need to convince people in my life, really, and—” He cut himself off. She’d said… He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be insulted. “I have a great knee ? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
    “Nothing,” she said. “But I don’t like this whole alpha male thing you do. It would drive me insane in less than a week.”
    A muscle in his jaw twitched. The things this woman said… “What alpha thing do I have going?”
    “You take women on dates, and throw your money at them to get them into your bed, and woo them with generic roses. I’m sure it works. I’m sure they all throw themselves at you.” She crossed her arms and stepped back, shaking her head. “But I’m not them, and the waste, and the utter thoughtlessness behind the gestures…it’s all empty. I can’t do it, not even to save my job.”
    He held his arms out. “I take my dates to nice restaurants, order the best food and wine, and give them roses. Is that wrong?”
    “No. But it’s not me . And everyone who knows me knows that.” She pressed a hand to her chest, which rose and fell rapidly. He didn’t glance down, because he couldn’t afford to be distracted right now. Too much was at stake. “Look, I want to help you. I do. But I can’t pretend to be something I’m not. I don’t speak French, and I don’t want to buy a ton of diamonds, or eat with the French Ambassador, or the mayor. I didn’t even vote for him.”
    “That’s okay.” He dropped his hands. “I didn’t vote for him, either.”
    She let out a small laugh and shook her head. The moonlight played with her hair, making it shine. Even when trying to run from him, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and nothing would stop him from chasing her. “Okay, but still. I don’t want money and credit cards and all the things .”
    “I’m going to be honest. You confuse the hell out of me, Maggie,” he said, reaching out to trail his knuckles down her cheek. “Most women I’ve dated would be pleased to get a credit card for unlimited spending, and jewels, too.”
    She shuddered, but didn’t pull away. “Yeah, well, I’m not most women.”
    He crossed his arms, eyeing her with a new appreciation that had nothing to do with their fake relationship, or his need for her help. “I’m getting that now.”
    “You want a puppet you can dangle in front of your mother, who fits in with your crowd.” Maggie twisted the ring on her finger and took it off, holding it out to him. “And I’m not that girl. I’ve never been good at fitting in, or falling into line, so chances are I’m not about to start now. Not even to keep my job, which I happen to enjoy a lot, for the record.”
    He didn’t take the ring, but he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Maggie, I’m sorry I screwed up. I am.” More than she’d ever understand. “Like I said, you’re in charge. But I didn’t know I was doing anything wrong. I just did what I always do when I take women out.”
    “You always give women Tiffany rings on the first date?”
    He snorted. “No.”
    “And credit cards?”
    He held up a hand. “You’ve made your point. It was too much, too fast. I won’t make that mistake again.”
    Her lips twitched, and she seemed less inclined to run. “You think I’m a girl who’s impressed with money,