Just Convenience

Chapter 5

Emma's POV: 

The pizza came, and we each picked up a slice in silence. It was weird to sit across from your CEO after making a deal to be in a fake relationship, but I suppose this was my life now. "So," I began, trying not to sound awkward about it. 

"Yes?" Mr. Thatcher asked; his cold blue eyes found mine, and it made me want to look away, but I forced myself to keep eye contact. 

"What should I know to make this look like an actual relationship?" Mr. Thatcher shrugged, and I noticed that he kept looking back at the entryway and around at his surroundings every few minutes, like he was nervous or something. "Do you want to switch spots so you can see more?" 

He looked like he was going to refuse for a second before nodding, "That would be great, thank you." We awkwardly got out of the booth at the same time and switched places. The heat left by his body in the booth seeped into me as I sat. Looking more relaxed, Mr. Thatcher answered my question, "Well, you should know that I have two siblings, a brother and a sister." 

"Their names?" 

"Holter and Blithe," he answered, and I nodded, taking a bite of pizza once we had switched plates around. 

"Who is the oldest?" I asked, and Mr. Thatcher gave a slight smile. 

"I am, what about you? Do you have any siblings?" 

"One, my sister Melanie, she is two years younger than me." Mr. Thatcher nodded. We were both the oldest siblings; how interesting. Then I remembered Stephanie, "Oh wait, I technically have two sisters, but one is a step-sister; she is 24, so technically, she is the oldest." 

"Are you not close with your step-sister?" he asked after a moment, and I watched his eyes search the room once again. He was always polite, but I wondered what prayed on him so much that his eyes were so cold. 

"Well, my mom remarried when I was a senior in high school, so Stephanie had already graduated. I've really only met her during family holidays. We get along, I suppose." I gave a shrug and pulled on a strand of my hair. "What about you, Mr. Thatcher-" 

"Peyton, call me Peyton," he interrupted, and I blushed, looking down. 

"Okay, Peyton," I said his name slowly; it sounded weird coming out of my mouth, "What about you? Are you close to your siblings?" 

He gave a short nod, and an easier smile crossed his face, "Yes, I mean, as close as we can be. Holter is actually in town right now and is staying at my house. Blithe is in Florida playing professional volleyball, so I don't get to see her much." 

"Wow, that's... impressive." 

"It is," Mr. Thatcher- Peyton- said, picking up another piece of pizza. "But, speaking about my brother," his smile fell slightly, "Our first outing will be this Friday with Holter, his girlfriend, and my mom." 

My heart skipped a beat, "A-already?" 

"Is that okay?" he looked concerned, a hand reaching out, though he stopped before touching me. 

"Y-yeah, it's okay." I focused on my breathing and looked anywhere but his face. My eyes fell on the white strand of hair near his forehead. "Is that natural?" 

He guessed what I was asking about and reached up to touch the white hair, "Uh, yes, it's a birthmark." 

"Oh, that's cool," I said and took the strand of hair I was playing with and put it in my mouth. "I don't have any birthmarks, but I think it's really cool that you have one." 

We fell into an awkward silence, and I watched Peyton's eyes once again travel around the room, "How old are you?" he asked after a while. 

"23," I answered, and he nodded.