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“If we’re going to be engaged, you need a ring, even if it’s fake.”

“No, Brett, you cannot get me a ring. That’s going way too far. You’re trying to save money for the nonprofit right now, not spend it.”

“I’m getting you a ring, Rosie, whether you like it or not.”

“Well, I’m not going to a jewelry store with you to get it. That would feel too awkward.” She grabs her phone, scrolls, and holds it up to me. “If you’re going to get me a ring, this is what I like.”

I stare at the simple band with a small diamond. “That’s not very flashy.”

“I don’t need a flashy ring,” she says. “If you’re going to get me a ring, I want it to mean something. A simple gold band and a simple diamond.” She smiles at me. “Getting engaged isn’t about having the biggest ring or the shiniest diamond. It’s about the meaning behind it. I care more about the symbolism, and, well, you know.” She shrugs. “It’s not real, but I still want it to be special.” She looks at me for a few seconds. “It will be special though. I mean, what we have is special, right?”

“It is,” I say, considering her face. “It’s really special actually. Weirdly.”

“Why is that weird?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I didn’t expect everything to feel so easy, especially in a situation like ours.”

“What do you mean, a situation like ours?”

“Well, you know. We’re fake dating, real hooking up, fake getting engaged, but really exclusive.”

“When you put it that way, it does sound weird,” she says.

Her phone beeps, and she looks down at it. My eyes fall to her screen, too, and I see Marcus’s name.

“Oh. What does he want?”

“I’m not sure,” she says, shaking her head. “You can look at the message if you want.”

“Oh. Sure.”

She opens it, and I see something about grabbing lunch. I feel my heart twist. The man is not giving up, and it annoys the shit out of me.

“I’ll answer him later.” She looks up at me and slips the phone back into her pocket.

I pretend not to care. I pretend not to want to know what she’s going to do or how she’s going to respond.

“I was thinking maybe tonight, we could go to dinner or something.”

“Is that your way of saying you want me for dessert?” She lowers her voice and touches my arm.

“I’d like you to be the appetizer, entrée, and dessert.”

“Ooh. You’re going to serve me up on a platter, Mr. Selleck?”

“If you’d let me.”

Her eyes are teasing as she gazes at me, and we stare at each other for a few seconds.

The front bell rings, and we both look up as a woman’s voice calls out, “Brett Selleck, there you are.”

I let out a low sigh when I see Simone heading toward us. Rosie drops her hand from my arm and takes a step back, frowning as Simone stalks toward me.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about. Can we go to the back or something?”

“What do we need to talk about, Simone?” I stare at her.

“I think you and I need to⁠—”