The Dating Arrangement. Kerri Carpenter

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ can see for yourself, The Wright Drink doesn’t exactly have the right appeal.”

      Emerson took a moment to glance around the space. It needed some light—natural light, preferably. And one hell of a cleaning crew would do wonders. But all in all, she found it charming. Like an old English pub.

      “I don’t know,” she said. “Seems like it just needs some tender loving care. A fresh coat of paint wouldn’t hurt either.”

      “But would new paint bring customers in?”

      She wasn’t sure if he was really asking her, but she decided to answer anyway. “Probably not. But if you zhuzhed up the inside, spent some time on a social media campaign and planned a couple of enticing events, you could turn things around. I’m an event planner and I’ve done plenty of grand openings for bars and restaurants, not to mention specialized events like themed nights, New Year’s Eve parties, birthday parties, you name it. You’d be surprised what attracts people.”

      The air hung heavily between them. They locked eyes and it took everything in her power not to squirm from the intensity pouring out of those serious eyes.

      She could feel the heat returning to her face and decided to lighten things up. “I mean, there are several ways to get customers interested in a business. I just organized the food truck festival last weekend and I know there—”

      “You put that together?” He whistled long and low. “That was amazing. I heard there were two dozen trucks and they maxed out on ticket sales.”

      She nodded. “The city wanted to focus on local businesses. Every food truck was owned by an Alexandria resident. To be honest, the publicity budget wasn’t very large. But word of mouth is a powerful tool. People were excited to support the trucks.”

      “I got food from at least five or six places,” Jack said. “There was such great diversity.”

      “Fifteen different ethnicities represented,” she said proudly. She’d worked extra hard to make sure a variety of diverse foods and cultures were included when she’d begun organizing the festival.

      “Sadly, it almost didn’t happen. The organizers had wanted to do it for years, but the city kept pushing back. Said it wouldn’t bring any interest. There were a lot of things we did to make sure we would pack the festival.” She gestured around the bar. “Wouldn’t be hard to do the same kind of thing here.”

      He seemed interested. “Really?”

      “Off the top of my head, I would suggest a grand opening. Or a reopening, as the situation would warrant. There are several events you could begin hosting that would help garner interest.”

      “Like bachelorette parties?” A pained expression crossed his face.

      Emerson laughed. “I was thinking more like a weekly trivia night, regular happy-hour specials and maybe even a ladies’ night.” She didn’t even go into the social media opportunities. “You have a lot to work with here.”

      Jack followed her gaze. “How do you know about all of this?”

      “It’s part of my job.”

      Jack leaned back suddenly. “Looks like we both have a problem to solve.”

      “Trust me, it would be a lot easier to get people into this bar than it would be to get my mother off my back.”

      Jack rubbed a hand along his jaw. She noticed some dark stubble and could hear a scratching noise as his fingers moved over it. Was it wrong that her mouth watered at the sight?

      “How about...” he trailed off.

      “What?” she asked.

      “Nothing—it’s a crazy idea.”

      “Come on. We’ve already bonded over my frazzled nerves and your outdated bar.”

      “Okay then. Why don’t I be your boyfriend?”

      Yes, please. She coughed. “Excuse me? Why would you pretend to be my boyfriend? I mean, why would anyone do something like that? You don’t even know me.”

      “Because,” Jack said patiently, “I need your help too.” He gestured to the bar around him. “I don’t know if I’m going to keep this place and find someone to manage it for me, or sell it. But no matter what I do, I have to turn it around. And you’d be the perfect person to help me make that happen.”

      Emerson mulled over his proposal. “So you help me with my family. I help you with the bar.”

      “You got it.”

      “You’re going to pretend to be my boyfriend?” She couldn’t believe she was entertaining this at all. It was nuts. “That’s a lot to ask of you.”

      “It’s me being your boyfriend for one night at your parents’ party. Believe me, from the looks of it, turning this place around will be the harder part.”

      She chewed on her lip. “O-okay. So we’re going to be a pretend couple. And we’ll fix up your bar.”

      “And no one gets hurt,” he finished.

      As she considered, a smile began spreading over his handsome face. If it weren’t for that damn smile...

      “What do you say? Do you want to make a deal?” He held out his hand and Cosmo let out a little yip.

      She rose, and the wedding dress billowed around her. Then she clasped his offered hand. “I do.”

       Chapter Three

      The last time Emerson had an imaginary boyfriend, she’d been in middle school. Her twelve-year-old sister had announced at Sunday dinner that she was “going with” Jeremy Swanson. So Emerson did what any self-respecting fourteen-year-old would do. She’d invented a boyfriend of her own, claiming he went to a different school and was constantly busy with sports.

      That act hadn’t lasted long. She’d never been any good at lying, which didn’t bode well for what she was about to do with Jack.

      He squeezed her hand. “Want me to go in with you?” he asked as they stood outside of her mother’s bridal boutique, staring at the black-and-white-striped awning with Dewitt’s Bridal scrawled across it in a fancy pink script. On his leash, Cosmo stood obediently next to Jack.

      Emerson shook her head. “Thank you, but I think it will be better if we wait as long as possible to bring you into the fold.” Easier on her, as well. “I’ll spring you on them when we get closer to the anniversary party. Plus that will give us time to start work on turning the bar around.”

      Jack gave her a long once-over, with his face emanating doubt. It looked like he was about to ask a question. But he must have decided against it. “You’re the boss,” he said simply instead. “Why don’t you come over tonight? I can fill you in on the situation with the bar and we can start planning.”

      “I’ll be there. Just text me the address.” She paused. “You’re not a СКАЧАТЬ