Page 89 of Movers and Fakers

I grimace. I should have explained sooner, but I didn’t want it to taint our time together.

We step out into the breezy city air, where a sleek town car is waiting, with Mac ready to drive us to Farm to Rooftop, an infamous restaurant in the city—a spin-off of the successful Farm to Table. The rooftop location is smaller and more exclusive. It’s actually one of my favorite places in New York. I wouldn’t have minded taking Aurora alone one day.

I let Aurora slide in the spacious back seat first, then join her.

“They’re not cruel,” I tell her as Mac closes the door on us. “But they don’t view things through the same lens as normal people. Everything is a chess move of some kind. They won’t see you for who you are, but what you bring to the table. Eventually, they relax and get to know you, but tonight won’t be that way.”

She nods, her expression hidden by the darkness of the car. Mac begins to drive, the lights of the city flashing as we go.

“That makes sense, I guess, given their line of work.” She fidgets with the clutch she brought along. “Do you think they’ll judge me for being your tutor?”

“We don’t have to tell them, if you’re worried about it,” I reply.

“Won’t they know, since you’re spending so much money?”

I almost laugh at the thought but refrain.

“They won’t notice it’s gone.”

“They won’t notice a hundred thousand dollars has left their account?” she asks, her disbelief evident.

“It’s coming from my account, which they rarely look at. And that number is pocket money for them. My mom spends that on a purse.”

Aurora’s hands still atop her clutch.

“This bag is from TJ Maxx.” Her tone is horrified.

In all honesty, I’d considered ordering matching bags and shoes to go with the dresses but thought Aurora might get overwhelmed by a bunch of designer bags showing up at her door. Those are harder to hide the labels on, unlike the dresses, which I removed the tags from.

“Don’t worry about that, they aren’t shallow, just calculated,” I assure her. “My mom won’t care what bag you’re carrying so long as she thinks you can hold your own in a ballroom full of executives.”

I realize as soon as the words are out of my mouth that I’ve made a mistake. I said way too much.

“A ballroom?” Aurora sounds panicked. “Executives? Hayes, I barely know how to socialize at a frat party. How am I supposed to make them think I can handle a gala?”

I grab her hand and squeeze it.

“You don’t have to do anything, just be yourself. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t want you to worry about any of that.”

Aurora shakes her head, her nervous expression illuminated by a bright billboard we pass beneath.

“I want to make a good impression, the way you did on my family.”

My chest tightens at her words. I wish I would have refused my parents, told them I wanted more time. Then again, I don’t know if it would have helped in the end.

“Your family is different from mine,” I say quietly. “I love my parents, but they live a life so removed from society that I don’t know how to just be around them. I’m sorry I made you nervous. You really don’t have to be. Whatever happens tonight, I want you, and that’s all that matters.”

“Okay,” she whispers, and my throat grows tight.

Is it already happening? Will I lose her because of my last name? Though it kills me to form the words, I have to give her a way out.

“If we get through this dinner, and you decide it’s too much, I won’t blame you. I’ll take you home and leave you alone—”

She cuts me off, turning in her seat to look at me.

“What are you saying? That we’ll break up if this doesn’t go well?”

“I don’t want to, but I don’t want you to feel trapped. I’ll give you the money for your intensive—”