Josie pats the couch in front of the Christmas tree. “Sit,” she orders and I comply. She gives me the Very Serious Look. “Can we discuss the elephant in the room?” “I thought we were discussing the elephant in the room,” I say, glancing at the tray of baked goods. “That the billionaire could actually bake? Incidentally, he baked those as punishment for squeezing my ass. It’s a game we play,” I say, and I’m giddy as I tell them about our list. “It was his idea to keep us on the up and up with this romance. If we do anything that’s over the top and might make it obvious it’s fake, we have this
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