eum chandeliers, and playing soft jazz in the background, with every little det

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 thought 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 respectalmost as though they were too terrified to make mistakes. Not only money, power is behind it. I had a sharp awareness about 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 roles we were supposed to play settling 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're one of those 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. "Event planning doesn't leave much room for a social life. Most of my fun happens when I'm not working-going out with friends, trying new places, keeping my head down and 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 to 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