Full Summary: Cullen Rutherford's day job is all about helping people. On the side he helps even more people, stepping in for women in need of a date at social events to avoid embarrassment or put off unwanted attention. When young teacher, Nevena Trevelyan, is invited to spend Christmas and New Year with her estranged family she calls on Cullen's particular services. There is nothing to make Cullen think it won't be like every other arrangement he's made.

As it is, neither of them have a clue what they're in for.

Thank you to my beta readers, razerathane, just-another-dalish-elf, and sakurasakes (all on tumblr).

Rating to change in later chapters.


December 12th

It all started with a letter.

A Christmas card, specifically. One which arrived on Nevena's doorstep on November 15th. It was one of the few yearly connections she had with her eldest sister. Every year a Christmas card would arrive before December, and every May she would get a birthday card.

Ineria was, if nothing else, predictable.

As in the years before, the picture on the front was of Ineria, her husband Josef, their three children, and their Labrador. The perfect little family, in front of their perfect, countryside, bed and breakfast, farm-guest house situated up in the mountains surrounded by snow.

Of course, Ineria had to be different in at least one way. The inside of the card never said "Merry Christmas" but always "Seasons Greetings". She didn't want to offend anyone after all.

When Nevena opened the envelope, she rolled her eyes at the picture on the front, and briefly skimmed the message inside.

"To Nevena,

Season's Greetings

Love Ineria, Josef, Matilda, Dante, Rowan, and Beau."

Short, to the point, and lacking any emotional value. Typical. She was about to put it up on the shelf over the television when she realized there was more written inside the card, but on the opposite side of the card. Ineria's hand writing was always perfectly curved and spaced. Not a single mistake or crossing out. Compared to Nevena's own chicken scratch handwriting, it was like looking at a work of art.

"Dear Nevena,

Sorry I haven't been in touch recently."

If three years could be called recently.

"Things have been hectic with getting all the work done on the new cabins, and expanding the bed and breakfast to other lodges. We're all set to open them up in spring. It's very exciting!

Josef is well, he's been working hard with the builders to get things done, while also getting some contracting work done from home! It's been wonderful to have him at home so much, helping with the B&B and with the kids. Speaking of, they're all fine. Matilda got the lead in her school musical - we're very proud! Dante is in the top set for his science and math classes, and Rowan is throwing himself into every sport at school. He's a natural at everything he turns his attention to!

I don't know if you are aware, but it's Mum and Dad's sixtieth wedding anniversary this Christmas. Josef and I thought it would be fun for them to come and stay with us. Arienne and Clotilde will be here too with their families. I know we would love for you to come. You have to! It feels like years since we've seen or heard from you.

You will make it for the gathering, won't you? Everyone is staying with us. Christening the new cabins and lodges, as it were. It would be good to see you. Hear how you're doing. The date Mama and Papa were married was December 27th, in case you didn't know. We thought to have a long get together for a few weeks– from the 16th until the 5th of January. Really bring in Christmas and the New Year together as a family!

Let me know and I can drop you an email with directions of how to get here by car. Hopefully you're not still driving that old beaten up Fiat. If so, I'm not sure if it will manage the trip and I'm sure Josef wouldn't mind picking you up and driving you.

If you could let me know ASAP if you're coming (and if you're bringing a plus one).

Love, Ineria."

Nevena read over the letter several times while pacing around her apartment. A gathering with her family was the last thing she wanted over the already stressful Christmas period. Seeing her sisters, their families, and being the odd one out again was about as appealing as taking a bath with a thousand spiders crawling all over her. But it was her parents wedding anniversary, a big one too, and if she missed it she would never hear the end of it.

She put the card on the shelf and left it for several days, occasionally staring at it from her desk or the couch, willing herself to call Ineria and give an excuse as to why she would not be attending. And it had to be a good excuse. She had to make it believable. She couldn't just tell her sister that the thought of spending almost a month in the company of her, their other sisters, and their families, while being the only single and childless one of them made her want to scream and run for the hills. That would not fly.

Her tardiness in replying caused Ineria to call her on the 1st of December. Caught off guard, the conversation was short and to the point. Ineria smothered Nevena with words and guilt, because she didn't want to attend the Christmas gathering and celebrations. She talked over her endlessly until Nevena gave in and agreed.

Which was why she now found herself throwing clothes out of her drawers and wardrobe onto her bed, frantically packing three days before she was due to leave. Her best friend and former roommate, Roselyn, sat cross legged on Nevena's bed being as helpful as ever, narrowly avoiding shirts and jeans being tossed her way.

"Why did you agree if you don't want to go?"

"I don't know!" whined Nevena. "Ineria just has this ability to twist words. She plays the guilt card better than anyone. She went on and on about how I'd be disappointing our parents if I didn't show up."

"Do you want to go?"

"Eh..." Nevena shrugged. "I would like to see my parents and celebrate their anniversary with them. And it's been ages since I saw my sisters..."

Roselyn quirked a fine brow. "But...?"

Nevena started folding a pair of jeans. "But..." She tossed the jeans into her suitcase with a deep sigh. "I don't want to be picked at and prodded."

"Picked at and prodded how?" Roselyn started to fold one of Nevena's jumpers. "Not literally, I hope."

"No. No. Not literally." Raking her fingers back through her hair, Nevena tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling. "I'm the odd one out, y'know? And when I get together with my family, conversation inevitably turns to their families. How great their lives are, and how amazing their kids are." She huffed and looked at Roselyn. "And I'm... nearly thirty, still single, and childless. Yay."

Roselyn laughed, "Is that really so bad? This is the twenty-first century. Lots of women don't get married or have kids."

"In my family it is a bad thing," snorted Nevena. "Dad is very traditional. Women who work are a big taboo subject for him, the only reason he doesn't hate Ineria running the guest house is because it's mostly Josef who does it all. It's stupid. Arienne, Clotilde, and Ineria all met their husbands while they were at college. They all got married shortly after, and started popping out babies. They have their college diplomas more for show, than anything else."

"And you're the one who actually used their diploma, focused on a career and became a teacher."

"Not just that, but I'm trying to better my career."

"So you need a boyfriend."

"I don't need one, no. But it would be nice to go to one of these things and not leave emotionally and mentally crippled by my sisters' and my parents' passive aggressive hinting." She sighed, "Why do you think I've avoided them for three years?"

"That's not the only reason, Nev." Roselyn treated her to a shrewd look.

"Yeah. Well..." Nevena shrugged uncomfortably. "That's a whole different issue."

Roselyn was quiet for a moment. She pursed her lips and stared down at her lap thoughtfully, while methodically folding another of Nevena's jumpers. Nevena let her think, silently turning her dilemma over and over in her head, her stomach heavy in her gut, tightly knotted. She would not eat for days while she worried over this; racking her brain for an excuse to get out of this extended stay with her family. Some disaster or something work related, but she was too panicked to think clearly.

The most viable solution she had come up with so far was setting fire to her apartment building and pretending she died in the flames. She wondered just how drastic that was, in the grand scheme of things.

"Okay, so..." Roselyn said, causing Nevena to squeak in surprise. Roselyn lifted her brows at her, but continued. "You might hate this idea, but hear me out."

"Hmmm?"

"Do you remember my friend Leliana?"

"Wait, you have friends other than me?!" Nevena dramatically gaped at her.

"Yes," Roselyn poked her tongue out. "Focus here, Nev."

"Alright, sorry." Nevena grinned and sat on the edge of her bed. "Leliana..." She mused, "Red hair. Accent. Right?"

"Ding-ding-ding. You are correct!" Roselyn tapped the end of Nevena's nose, making her laugh. "Well, about six months ago, she had to go to a big corporate dinner with her company. She'd been getting some unwanted attention from one of the female managers, so she wanted to put an end to it by taking a date."

"Okay..." Nevena lifted her brows. "I fail to see what this has to do with anything, but okay..."

"Patience, youngling, it will all become clear!" Roselyn tutted at her, wriggling on the duvet and growing excited. "She told me she met this guy through an ad online. She hired him to be her boyfriend for the night to put off her boss. And it worked."

"...He's like an escort?"

"I'm not sure," Roselyn shrugged. "I think there's a bit more to it than that, but in essence. You could hire him, and take him with you to this family gathering as your boyfriend. It might take the heat off you."

Nevena leaned back crossing her arms, "And he's legitimate? This is an actual business? He's not some gigolo or stripper or something?"

"Nope." Roselyn took her phone from her pocket. "Leliana gave me his number..." She started to slide her finger across the screen. "Here. His name is Cullen Rutherford. I could call him and arrange a meeting. No obligation to hire him, just a meeting to see what you think."

"Where? Not here. Not my apartment."

"Of course not!" Roselyn laughed. "How about the little café on the corner?"

"Now?"

"No time like the present!" Nevena tried to protest but Roselyn already had her phone to ear. "If he's free, that is." They waited only a few moments and then Roselyn beamed at Nevena. "Hi, is this Cullen Rutherford? ...Yeah. My name is Roselyn. I got your number from Leliana? I'm calling on behalf of a friend...her name? Nevena Trevelyan...yeah, sure, she's here."

"Nono- ROSE!" Nevena whispered, putting her hands out, as if to protect her from the phone Roselyn was shoving at her, and leaning away. Roselyn scowled, thrusting the phone more insistently at Nevena's face until the screen was almost against her nose. Nevena lurched backwards and tumbled off the edge of her bed to the floor. Roselyn barely concealed a guffaw reaching out to help Nevena to her feet. Reluctantly, Nevena wrapped her hand around the phone and put it to her ear.

"Hello?" The male voice on the other end was deep and rough, almost as if the owner was just awoken from sleep. He sounded irritated too. "Look, if this is a prank -"

"It's not!" Nevena blurted out. "Uhm, sorry. I dropped the phone when Roselyn handed it to me."

"That's fine," the voice sighed. "So, I take it I'm speaking to Nevena?"

"Yeah."

"That's an unusual name."

"There's a story behind it."

"I don't doubt it." He sounded less annoyed now. "I assume you're calling because you need me to pretend to be a partner or something?"

"Yeah. For a ...a family gathering over Christmas."

"Okay." He paused. Nevena could hear the sound of fabric brushing against something. "I hate doing these things over the phone. Are you free to meet? Face-to-face? It'll give us a chance to see if we mesh."

"You like to take charge, huh?"

Silence for a moment. "So... about meeting?"

"Oh. Yeah. I... I'm free. I guess." She bit her lip, trying to ignore Roselyn grinning at her. "Just packing. Uh... th-there's a café near my apartment. It's called Red Jenny's. Do you know it?"

"Yeah. I know it. I can meet you there in...an hour? How's that?"

"An hour," Nevena glanced at the clock on the wall. "Y-yeah. Sure. One hour."

"Alright. See you shortly." He hung up before Nevena could ask how he would recognize her. Or how she would recognize him. She handed the phone back to Roselyn feeling numb, her tongue heavy in her dry mouth. Had that really just happened? Had she actually just arranged to meet a perfect stranger to discuss pretending to be in a relationship with him, just to get out of being the focus of ridicule and amusement for her family?

Her mind started racing. What if he was a convicted felon or he was rude? What if he tried to seduce one of her sisters or he started a fight with her parents? What if he was just plain mean?

"Give me the phone," Nevena reached for it, putting an end to whatever Roselyn was saying. "I have to cancel. I can't do this!"

"Yes, you can," Roselyn said, as she slipped her phone into her back pocket. She got up, and grabbed a jacket and scarf from the back of Nevena's bedroom door, and then grabbed Nevena's wrist, almost pulling her through the apartment to the entrance hall. Nevena's body felt heavy and not like her own. Her limbs were numb and cold, and she was moving on autopilot. "Get down there now, get a drink, and a seat, and settle yourself."

"What about you?"

"I'm not going to hold your hand," Roselyn planted her hands on her hips. "If you get scared or he's creepy, text me, and I'll call with a fake emergency, but give him a chance. Leliana couldn't sing his praises high enough."

Nevena was out of her own front door, jacket over her arm, and keys in hand before she even realized it. She stared down at the keys before clenching her hand around them and steeling herself. She would go. Roselyn was right; she should, at the very least, give him a chance. There was no obligation after all, and she could turn him down immediately if she lost her nerve. Besides, if this is what he did for a living, then he was probably very professional and used to things not necessarily panning out.

It would be fine. There was nothing at all to worry about.

Red Jenny's was a small, independently owned place where Nevena often stopped in on her way to work. She liked its cozy and friendly atmosphere, and the fact that none of the drinks tasted like burnt dirt like in so many chain coffee shops). It was owned and run by Sera, a boisterous young woman who worked the front of the shop and was responsible for all the artwork on the walls, and the drawings on the sandwich board outside. Her wife, Dagna - affectionately referred to by Sera as Widdle - was the co-owner, and was responsible for keeping Sera's drawings as family friendly as possible.

Dagna was what some people would call scatterbrained. She was enthusiastic, kind, possessed a wild imagination, and had an impressive palette, which was how Red Jenny's kept in business and competed against more mainstream coffee houses. Dagna liked to experiment with different flavors, and enjoyed bringing chemistry into the kitchen, meaning many of Red Jenny's treats, cakes, and biscuits were special because of Dagna's extensive knowledge and endless experimentation. She was always trying something new, while keeping a handful of regular favorites for return customers.

When Nevena pushed the door open, the familiar ring of the bell brought Sera out from the office where she was tucked away. There were two other young women working who were in the process of clearing tables.

"Regular for you, Nev?" Sera asked, going immediately for a cardboard take-away mug.

"No, no," Nevena stepped up to the counter. The place was busy, filled with customers laden with bags full of presents and wrapping paper, catching their breath before taking on the shops again or going home. "Just a big hot chocolate for me. To have in, if that's okay?"

"Sure." Sera went about preparing it.

"Do you have any of those cupcakes iced like bees?"

"Widdle's just finishing a new batch now." Sera grinned. "Take a seat, I'll bring one over with you hot choccie, yeah?"

"Thanks." Nevena paid and moved out of the way of the counter to weigh up her seating options.

Sitting right at the front in the window was would give her a good view of the door, and also a quick escape route if she chickened out of this meeting. But it was drafty, and she didn't want to shiver and come across as afraid. There was a small table for two vacant in the middle of the café–another good place she could see the door. Not a good place for a quick exit, and other patrons could barricade her in. Towards the back of the shop, a group was just leaving a bigger table with deep leather couches on either side. Nevena considered it for a moment before realizing it was too casual and possibly too intimate. She didn't want to give this Cullen Rutherford the wrong idea.

After deciding on the table for two by the wall of the café, she hung her jacket on the back of her chair, and made herself as comfortable as possible.

Sera arrived with her hot chocolate and cupcake - the bee's face a grin and winking up at her - and Nevena was left to stew in her unease, her heart leaping into her throat every time the bell rang.

She could barely concentrate on the food and drink in front of her. She picked at her cupcake with her fingers, tearing away pieces of it, but not eating them. She tried not to look at the clock hanging over the counter, but her eyes continued to flicker to it, and every time she looked she hoped twenty minutes had come and gone, but the clock seemed frozen in place.

What was she doing?

This was completely insane. She knew she would not be this terrified if she were meeting a blind date, or a friend. And this was neither. She had no romantic intentions towards this man. She didn't know him. It was, at its heart, a business meeting. So why was her stomach turning? Why was her heart threatening to beat out of her chest? And why couldn't she get her breathing to slow down?

Her eyes watered from staring so long without blinking. She took a long breath and lifted her drink to her mouth to take a long swallow. The cup being the size of a soup bowl, it obscured Nevena's vision for a moment. In that moment, the bell tinkled its merry tinkle, signaling another customer.

As Nevena returned her cup to its saucer, she saw who it was.

A man. Tall. Very tall. Much taller than her. He wore smart jeans, which were black and faded–clearly old and comfortable–and big, hard boots on his feet, more suitable for hiking than living in the city. Like most people, he wore a jacket, a parka, to keep out the cold and a scarf wrapped around his neck. He stood in line to order, staring up at the chalkboard over the counter at what was to offer. He had a defined profile: a strong jaw and chin, and a straight nose. His cheeks were covered in stubble, obviously kept trimmed. He was blond, and though he obviously tried to style his hair, there were a few fly away wisps betraying a natural wave or curl.

He must have felt her staring, because he turned his gaze and looked right at her. It was like a bolt of lightning shot out from her chest and down every limb, making her skin prickle and every hair stand on end. He offered a crooked smile, and when he did, Nevena noticed there was a distinct scar on his upper right lip, the crooked side of his mouth. She returned it weakly and then dropped her gaze down at the winking bee on her plate, feeling her cheeks burn.

Oh.


Cullen knew who his new possible client was before even introducing himself.

People did certain things when they were looking out for someone, or waiting to meet someone. Some people fidgeted, often with their clothes or with some object they had with them. Some read a book they had handy, or read the back of someone else's book, occasionally glancing at the door. In the age of technology many people sat with their phones out, texting or reading, and were only made aware of their company's arrival by them announcing themselves.

Then there were the nervous, anxious waiters. The people who didn't just fidget, but lacked the ability to sit still–always crossing and uncrossing their legs or winding their fingers around each other, and biting their lips. They were often the ones who stared at the door, ready to leap like a greyhound out of the gate as soon as their friend arrived.

This woman - Nevena Trevelyan - was a fidgeter, a lip biter, and a greyhound. She was examining him as closely as he was examining her.

She'd chosen an interesting spot to sit in. The middle of the café against a wall, blocked in by other customers. He would have chosen the window seat, but then with the door opening and closing it would have been cold.

Of course, from a voice and a few brief words, he had no mental image conjured of this woman whose friend had called him on her behalf. He tried to go into these things with an open mind, never knowing what or who was going to call on his company or skills.

Nevena Trevelyan was, at first glance, pretty. Not stunning, not a knock-out who would stop conversation in a room if she walked in, but pretty. Her blonde hair, more golden really, was a natural mess of waves and tangles, mostly left lose but for a braid over the crown of her head. She dressed casually; jeans, leather ankle boots, a jumper, and a scarf with bobbles dangling from the end. Cute, unfussy, and uncomplicated, all high-street, nothing designer. Not someone who put too much on appearances then. The jumper was too long for her though, he could see that by the way the sleeves almost completely covered her hands around her cup. Possibly an old item of clothing, then? Not someone who spent a lot of money on material things, or perhaps on themselves.

When he smiled at her, her reaction made him conceal a chuckle with his hand. The way her eyes widened, her cheeks bloomed, and how quickly she darted her eyes down and away from him. Yes, she was pretty. Pretty and bashful.

After paying for his order and taking his black coffee from the woman at the counter, he eased his way through the maze of chairs, people, shopping bags, and tables until he reached where she sat. Before he even set his drink down she leapt to her feet.

Maker, she was a skinny thing too. He could see, now that he was closer, that she was petite - maybe only just brushing five foot three or four. The reason for her jumper being too long in the sleeves made sense suddenly, it was too big for her. She was looking at him, face flushed, eyes blazing.

Eyes. Now, her eyes were interesting. Big, almond shaped, slightly curved upwards at the outer corners. Brown? No, not brown. More like molten amber. Framed with long, dark lashes, and neatly cared for eyebrows. She wasn't particularly pale either, and he noticed the freckles littered across her cheeks and nose as she looked at him.

On a second, closer inspection, she was lovely. Beautiful, actually and Cullen quickly shut his mouth when he realised it was hanging open slightly and he was staring.

"Nevena…?"

"I'm sorry." She lifted her hands and stepped away, as if he had offended her. "This... this is a bad, terrible, awful mistake." She retreated, knocking into the chair behind her and the person sitting in it. She wobbled. On instinct Cullen grabbed her around the forearm to hold her steady. "This is..." She looked him up and down before shaking her head and grabbing her coat from the back of her chair.

"Hold on, hold on." Cullen put his coffee down, only too aware of the eyes of other customers on them both. "Take a breath." He stepped closer, still holding her forearm in a gentle grip. She looked like a breeze would knock her over she was so tense. "Just... relax for a second. You're clearly nervous."

"You think?" She gave a little breathless laugh. "Sorry. Sorry." She ran a hand down her face and made a soft grunting sound. "It's just... I mean no one would believe we were... that you were my..." She fumbled for the word 'boyfriend' or 'partner' like they were blasphemous.

Confused, but sensing she was a little calmer, Cullen released her and leaned his hands flat on the table, "Why do you say that?"

"Well, look at you!" She gestured to him. "You look like Michelangelo's 'David' just came to life. I mean, come on." Her laugh was frantic and growing in panic again. "No one in a million years would believe someone who looks like you would want to be with someone like me."

"Uhm..." Cullen wasn't completely sure what to make of this woman. This woman, who could not have been much younger than he was - and he was certain she was younger. In less than five minutes he had learned she was nervous, flighty, a fidget, prone to panic, and had an appalling sense of self-worth. "Okay, well," he sighed, "thank you for the compliment? But maybe, and I'm just making a suggestion here, but maybe we could have a conversation before either of us makes that assumption."

He met her gaze. Her terrified, wide-eyed, and uncertain gaze. He watched it dart from him, to the door, and back again.

"You alright, Nev?" The voice behind him startled them both, and he glanced back to see the young woman who served him is coffee standing a few feet away, batting a rolling pin in her hand in a threatening manner. "Is he bothering you?"

Cullen rolled his eyes and returned his focus to Nevena. "You don't want your cupcake to go to waste, right?" He smiled, in what he hoped was a supportive and easy way.

"Uhm..." She looked down at the forlorn bee on the plate in the middle of the table. After a long breath, her shoulders dropped, relaxing just a little. "Sorry, Sera. E-everything's fine. I just..." she shook her head, "sorry."

Cullen stood straight, unaware that he had even been hunching. He watched the woman with the rolling pin - Sera - give him a dirty look, before returning behind the counter. She would be watching him like a hawk from now on.

After removing his outer jacket and his scarf, he sat, turned his coffee towards himself and poured what he considered the equivalent of two teaspoons of sugar into it from a decanter. Nevena twisted her fingers around each other, her eyes down and focused on them.

She looked like she was about to cry.

"Look -" he started.

"I'm sorry!" She blurted out, her words following in a rush. "I'm just nervous… and worked up. And I don't think I've slept more than three hours the last few days because I've been going over this trip in my head and -"

"Relax." He stared at her from across the small table. "You really need to relax. And stop apologizing. You haven't done anything wrong, and we're just talking." He smirked, "people do that, you know?"

"I know..." She smiled a little too– cute smile– and tucked a stray tuft of hair around her ear. Not pierced. "I'm not usually this much of a mess."

"I believe you." He could sense her calming down and growing more at ease with him and the situation. Her nerves slowly dissipating. He pulled out his phone, and after entering the pass code, he tapped several icons until he had a note taking app open in front of him. "So I can put down anything important," he explained when he saw her looking, "but let's start with the basics. Name, age, that sort of thing."

"I feel like I'm on a speed date." She rolled her eyes at herself. "Life story in three minutes or less."

Cullen quirked a brow. "You've speed dated?"

"At the insistence of Roselyn." Nevena 's mouth quirked into a lop-sided smile. "I do a lot of things at her behest. She's always trying to push me to do something new. She was my roommate in college, and after that we lived together until she and her now-husband, Alistair, decided to get a place together about six years ago."

"You're close?"

"I guess." Nevena took a sip of her drink. "She's the kind of person I wish my sisters were."

"Huh..." Stirring his coffee, Cullen watched several bubbles form in the middle of the whirlpool and then pop. "But we're talking about you, not Roselyn."

"Right. I just -"

"You're good at deflecting." He prompted. "Don't like talking about yourself?"

"You moonlight as a lifestyle guru, too?"

"I have many talents."

"I don't doubt it." She grinned easily, bending an arm to rest her elbow on the table and her head on her fist. "Well, uh, my name is Nevena Trevelyan and I'm twenty-eight."

"What do you do?"

"I'm a teacher."

"Where at?" Cullen took a sip of his coffee and grimaced. Too bitter. Needed more sugar.

"At uh, at Our Lady Andraste's. It's the big private school up on the hill."

Cullen poured more sugar into his mug. "I know it."

"I mostly work with kids with learning difficulties. Autism, Down's Syndrome, that sort of thing." She picked at her cupcake. "I'm actually doing an open university degree in child psychology in my meager spare time. It's taking forever."

"That's... impressive."

She shrugged. "What about you? Is this... being a rent-a-date a full time job?"

"Rent-a-date?" Cullen laughed at that, a deep rumbling chuckle that rose up from inside his chest and tumbled out of his mouth involuntarily. "That is... one way of putting it."

"What would you call it?" She leaned a little closer. Definitely more relaxed now.

"I have no idea. I provide a service," Cullen replied, leaning back in his chair. "And it's not a full time thing. Mostly just evenings or the occasional weekend. Honestly, it was a joke to begin with."

"What's the story behind it?"

"The abridged version," Cullen began, "is that around two years ago a friend of mine, Cassandra, needed me to pretend to be her partner because her actual partner was out of town at the time. Someone was bothering her endlessly, and he had the wrong idea. She wanted to get him off her back I forget the gorey details. I was single, and I owed her a few favors so I agreed. Turned out I make a good fake boyfriend and it worked like a charm. She suggested I put an ad online, that she probably wasn't the only woman around who needed a fake something-or-other. Turns out she was right."

Nevena lifted a brow, mouth pulling to one side. "So, you get a lot of business?"

"I get a lot of interest. But I like to meet people in person before deciding. If there's chemistry there, then it's easy to pretend. If there's nothing, then there's no point doing it. People can tell." He explained.

"How does payment work?"

"That..." He laughed a little. "You won't believe me, but I don't charge. Or have rates."

"You're right, I don't believe you."

Cullen smirked down into his coffee. She had spirit when she was calm and not leaping at shadows. "With Cassandra, I did it for free because I owed her some favors. With other women, I've maintained a sense of 'pay me what you think my services are worth' kind of ethic."

"Wait..." Nevena leaned forward on the table. "So, they don't have to pay you anything?"

"If they think I did a bad job, no." He shrugged. "Honestly it works really well for me, and for them. And considering this isn't my full time job, it's just something I happen to do, if they don't pay me, it doesn't mean I can't eat or pay my bills for the month."

"What do you do for a full time job?"

"I work in sports and rehabilitation therapy. I do prep work for people training to get into the military or the police. Work with a few marathon runners too. My degree is in rehabilitation therapy so most of my work is for people learning to walk again, recovering from serious injuries, or military vets who are recovering from injuries they received during service."

"Wow." Nevena's eyes were wide. "That's amazing. You must make such a difference. What pushed you to pursue a career in that?"

"It just appealed." Cullen shrugged his shoulders and turned his mug around in his hands. "I also do a lot of fitness for myself. Swimming and fencing, mostly."

"Fencing?"

"Fencing." They fell into a beat of silence, before both smiling at the other and laughing. "Any other questions before we get back to you?"

"Oh, thousands!" Nevena rolled her eyes, "but I'll settle for your age, and how many... clients, I guess, you've had."

"I'm thirty-one." Cullen took a long gulp of his now luke-warm coffee. "And including Cassandra, probably... between fifteen to twenty." Nevena choked on her mouthful of cupcake, and just managed not to spray crumbs all over him by covering her lips with her hand. Cullen passed her a napkin while laughing. "I told you, this is just something I do on the side."

Nevena cleared her mouth of crumbs and drank from her almost empty cup. "Anyone I might know?"

"That's personal information. Can't share it."

"This might be an impertinent question but have any of these fake-boyfriend scenarios ever ended uhm..." she glanced up at the ceiling. "In... uhm... y'know..." Cullen could sense what she wanted to ask, it was the same question Leliana asked him.

"In sex?" He offered, smirking at the way her skin flared with color. "No. Never. It's a strict business only arrangement. Sex would make things messy. And I'm also not down for being paid for it."

"That... makes sense." Nevena nodded slowly.

Cullen made a face, grimacing at the cold coffee sliding down his throat. He had left it too long. Nevena quickly called over Sera from the counter and ordered another for him, and herself another hot chocolate. Sera brought them over with a complimentary bee cupcake, which she placed in front of him. The bee was frowning and there was a paper doily folded on the plate with the words "I'm watching you" written on it in Sharpie. Cullen took it and folded it into his pocket.

"So, the reason you called." He prompted their discussion to get back on track. "Can you give me an overview?"

Nevena explained at length the details of her predicament, and Cullen made notes on his phone about things that were important or pertinent to the arrangement they might come to. Having this as something of a business arrangement meant he needed to know what he was getting into. And the more specifics he had, the more he could put into a contract that both he and his client signed so everything was above board. With his previous clients the contracts were small because the arrangement was for one night, if that. He had a feeling the one for this was going to be the length of a Bible, given it would be for almost a month.

He took down the names of Nevena's sisters and the details of their families. He also took down the names of her parents. He asked for more detail when necessary, the location of Ineria's bed and breakfast manor house, the length of time they would be staying, what he would be expected to do as a guest.

By the time Nevena had finished explaining things to him, he had filled almost three pages full of notes and little details about her, her family, and the situation over Christmas and New Years. Sera brought over another coffee for him, and a glass of water for Nevena as they moved onto another topic for their arrangement.

"Okay, so this is probably a kind of awkward question." Cullen began and arched his fingers so the tips touched. "But if we're going to present this whole... illusion of being a couple, we're going to have to do things that couples do."

"Like what?"

Cullen shrugged his shoulders. "There's innocuous stuff, holding hands, hugs. Pretty basic and almost friendly, really. Then there're more intimate things, like kissing." He saw her eyes widen and she swallowed hard. "The reason I bring it up is because we'd need to agree on what was okay and what wasn't. What we're both comfortable with. In the past, I've never had to be quite this detailed, but considering this is going to be for a significant length of time... Better to get it out of the way now than for me to go in to kiss you while we're there, and you to go in for a hug and for us to crash somewhere in the middle."

"Makes sense..." Nevena murmured in a small voice, her cheeks a fetching pink. "I... I mean like... I like... holding hands. And stuff." She stared down at the table like a shy schoolgirl with her first crush. "At least I used to. It's... been a long time since anyone held my hand."

"Oh?" Cullen leaned forward in his chair. "How long?"

Nevena met his gaze with a slow, wry smile. "Long enough."

He waited a moment to see if she would elaborate. When she did not, he cleared his throat, straightened, and brushed the end of his nose with his thumb. "Well, holding hands and hugs are fine with me."

"I like hugs."

"What about kissing?" He could tell the way he spoke so plainly was surprising to her. What she failed to see was how he viewed this all as a business transaction. When he held her hand, he would be holding the hand of a client. When he kissed her, there would be no real emotion behind it. It would all be for show.

"I guess kissing is fine," shrugged Nevena. "Just don't shove your tongue down my throat, or something."

Cullen laughed, "I'll try to resist the urge."

"So, does that mean we're... doing this?" she asked him, tilting her head to one side. "We 'mesh'?"

"I think so," Cullen agreed. "If you're happy to go ahead with this, I can be packed and ready to go on the 15th."

"Anything to stop my family from poking holes and making fun of me." A pause. "What about your job? Can you actually take time off? Commit to this?"

He smiled at how concerned she was. "I have a lot of holiday owed to me. We're over staffed anyway and we're closed for two weeks over Christmas and New Year."

"Oh. As long as you won't get in trouble then..." He watched her glance across the café at the clock above the counter. "I really should get back to Roselyn. I left her alone in my apartment three hours ago, and she's probably bored out of her mind."

"Alright." Cullen got up out of his seat when Nevena did. He still had half a coffee to finish so he would not leave yet. He watched Nevena slide her coat on over her arms and zip it up to her chest. "I've got your number, so if I need any more details before Friday, I'll text you."

"Okay."

"And you mentioned driving up there?"

"Yeah. My car is probably not the safest thing to drive on the motorway. We'd probably have to take the back roads."

"I can drive," offered Cullen. "Send me the directions your sister emailed you, and I'll put them in the sat nav so we're good to go."

"Will do," Nevena gave a small thumbs up. "Ineria will probably have arranged a big, fancy meal for my parent's anniversary. Nothing crazy, but definitely something where jeans wouldn't cut it." She glanced down at his legs and back up to his face. "Just saying."

"I'll pack something smart."

She huffed a breath, dropping her shoulders. "Okie dokie." After a beat, she stuck out her hand towards him. "I will see you on Friday, then."

Cullen clasped her hand and they shook once. He ignored the faint tingle on his flesh where their hands met. "Friday."

"Looking forward to it." Nevena offered a weak smile. She dropped his hand and he watched her leave, walking out into dark of the evening. Cullen retook his seat. He picked up his phone and started to skim through the information he had taken down while she was talking. There was so much there, so much he needed to know and memorize. He drank down what was left of his coffee in a few mouthfuls, kicked his chair out from the table, and grabbed his coat.

He had a lot of homework to do.


Thank you for reading the first chapter of my new long fic. Please, please let me know what you think in the comments below. I love hearing your thoughts and opinions, so please don't be shy. 3