Chapter 3 A Night Out

Just like any billionaire's favorite local haunt, the place is dim, full of museum chandeliers, and playing soft jazz in the background, with every little detail designed for the sheer give-away of elegance without being ostentatious.

I could tell from the almost reverent treatment of Ryan by the staff that he would have frequented the place often.

Now, I was being led to a table, and suddenly I felt the entire nervous experience take over me, coupled with what I could sense to be Ryan's quiet tension.

I sat opposite him and tried to ignore that overwhelming feeling that I was under an examiner's eye. This was supposed to be a casual dinner between friends, just a way to start the illusion of a relationship. But every little action seemed like it would ruin everything.

As I fidgeted with my napkin in my lap, I couldn't help but peek at the diners, wondering how many had already clocked into Ryan.

"Well," I said, sounding as casual as I could, "this is... nice."

Ryan lifted his head from reading the menu, with eyes a little sharper than I expected. "Nice?" he opined with a lifted brow. "You don't find this place a little... too much?"

I looked around once more, taking in the shiny marble floors, gilded accents, and waiters who moved with silent speed.

"It's a bit posh, but I think I'm just not used to this kind of place," I admitted, forcing a smile. "I usually prefer more low-key spots."

And Ryan's lips curved in what seemed like a slight smile, but it was more a knowing one. "I would have guessed you would," he said. "This probably doesn't even make it into your regular rotation."

I could feel the faint blush fill my neck with crimson. He, of course, knew very well that I was out of place here, and that this world consisted of things I could not claim to possess. Still, I was here, pretending to be his girlfriend.

I inhaled deeply. "Well, then, if I am going to act like I am dating you, I should make the best of it."

Ryan's eyes flickered, a brief flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. "Is that how you see this? A perk?"

I froze. It may have been the word choice. Or perhaps it was the inflection in his voice as it shifted, just a little. But suddenly, the air between us seemed thick enough to stir.

"Not in a bad way," I hurried to clarify, hoping I didn't sound too defensive.

"I mean, I'm getting paid to be here, so it's not like I'm doing this for free," I said, trying to explain. "But that doesn't mean I don't want to make it... convincing."

For the briefest moment, Ryan's eyes softened, but I wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light or if he was just being polite.

"I understand," he said, setting his menu down. "This is not your usual scene, and I'm not exactly easy to... pretend to be with. But I need you to know, the whole 'fake relationship' thing is as much about you making it feel real as it is about me doing the same."

Nodding, I could only feel a little concern for my answer. A forced relationship. A game. A performance. The thoughts sat uncomfortably in my stomach.

The waiter came, but it broke quite a little tension as Ryan ordered a bottle of red wine. I saw how the staff treated him: it was some effortless respect, almost as though they were too terrified to make mistakes. Not only money, power was behind it.

I had a sharp awareness of how little I fitted in this world, how much I had to adjust against the picture he wanted me to portray.

I took a sip when it arrived. I savored the taste, but didn't allow myself to sink into it, for it was not about enjoying the wine or the food, but fitting into the mold Ryan had set for us. I could feel the weight of the roles we were supposed to play setting into my bones.

"So," I said, and suddenly, there we went. "What do you do for fun when you're not hosting galas or running a billion dollar company?"

Ryan leaned back in his chair, a small chuckle escaping him. "I don't know if I'd call running a company 'fun,' but... when I actually get a moment to breathe, I try to get out of the city. Maybe a weekend getaway, or a round of golf. Nothing too crazy."

"Golf?" I raised an eyebrow. " You are one of these types."

He smirked. "What's wrong with golf?"

I laughed, though it felt forced. "Nothing, I suppose. Just seems a little... old fashioned. Like something you do when you've run out of exciting things to try."

Ryan's gaze flickered with amusement. "And what do you do for fun?"

I hesitated. "When I'm not working - going out with friends, trying new places, keeping my head down and... event planning doesn't leave much room for a social life. Most of my fun happens doing my job."

Ryan nodded, not really that interested in the conversation, but since he didn't look particularly miffed, I guess we could continue. "I imagine you are good at what you do. Event planning isn't easy."

"I try," I said, and smiled at him in a way I hoped looked genuine. "Though sometimes, I feel like I'm just barely keeping my head above water."

A small, studious silence stretched between us, and I could feel the growing awkwardness that must have already settled here - how else could it? Here were two strangers pretending to have some deep, meaningful connection when neither had ever met the other before.

But here I was, trying to figure out how long it would be before all this became something more than just work for me and how long before the real-fake line erased itself.

"Do you ever wish you didn't have to pretend?" I spoke without stopping to think.

Ryan glanced at me, and for a single second, something dimly flickered across his eyes, possibly surprising, or maybe amusement, or some other deeper thing. "Pretend? A little too harsh, don't you think? It's just business."

I gulped, cursing myself for being too frank. "Right. Business."

Another awkward silence fell between us, but this time I felt that I had crossed a line. The rules had been set: no personal stuff, no probing questions, but there I was, poking where I shouldn't have.

I forced a smile to steer the conversation off, trying to say something safe again. "Well, I will admit... It's definitely a learning curve. But at least we're good at playing our parts."

Ryan looked at me, his lips curving into a little tight smile. "I think we're both doing alright so far."

And over time, the conversation turned more fluid, but still strained, like we're trying too hard to make it not be awkward. The whole dinner was theatrical, and I didn't know how far from my sanity I was willing to go to keep up the charade.

Laughs were forced, smiles were labored, and glances were calculated, while words hung precariously in the air, threatening to bring it all crashing down.

When the dinner was over and the waiter handed the bill to Ryan, he just took it in, his very presence commanding the whole table. I stood up and hefted my bag, carrying around me the weight of everything. "The Date" was over now, but the real challenge was just beginning.

As we left the restaurant, and the cool night air met my face, I thought that perhaps something had occurred to me before - it wasn't all just for show for everyone else. I had to see how much I could convince myself that it was true. As it was, I wasn't so sure I could.

Ryan opened the car door for me, his hand brushing against my palm as I slipped into the backseat. "You did well tonight," his voice evenly said. "It won't be easy, but it's a beginning."

I forced a smile as the door closed behind me, but inside the quiet of the car, I wanted to know just how long I could keep playing this game before it consumed me.