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Enjoy chapter seven!

"Erm, so about that Tim..." I added, peeling my eyes away from Troy's addictive ones as we continued to walk towards the lounge.

"Yeah, I think most people were expecting him to get the promotion," he replied with a roll of his eyes.

"Himself included," I added grimly. "But it's not just that. He's the man who chatted me up at work today!"

"What?" Troy came to a halt in a quiet corner away from the other guests. "But he's married..."

"I know, I just met his lovely wife. What a rat!" I hadn't seen Tim or Sophie yet since I'd left the table, but as I spoke, I noticed they were standing just a few feet away from us now.

Suddenly Sophie turned around, and I got yet another shock. She was cradling a noticeably round stomach – something I'd managed to miss when sitting with her during dinner.

"Oh my God!" I couldn't help exclaiming as I faced Troy again. "He's got a baby on the way as well? What the hell is he doing flirting with any random woman he meets?"

"Once again, that's a question I just can't answer I'm afraid," Troy sighed, referring to our discussion about men in general at the beginning of the night.

"Tim's always been overly-ambitious on the job – sometimes to the point where he rubs people up the wrong way with his manners. But I wouldn't have guessed his morals were this loose."

I thought over his description of Tim for a moment. But Troy seemed to be having another realisation.

"Hang on a minute, Gabi...didn't you say earlier that when Tim was flirting with you, he told you he ran his own business?"

I smiled slightly in spite of our conversation topic. I had finally found a man who was on the same wavelength as me.

"Yes, that's right," I replied. "And I don't like the sound of that one bit – what if he's planning to make that happen now that he's becoming the vice president?" I certainly wasn't smiling anymore as I contemplated the thought of that man taking over my dad's livelihood.

"I think you might be onto something," Troy nodded. "But I'm not sure we can do much about it right now. He hasn't done anything yet, besides betray his wife and brag shamelessly."

I knew he was right. I couldn't very well approach my father about this. Not only did we have no physical evidence of anything untoward; there was also the small matter that I knew absolutely nothing about the company. Dad would more than likely just laugh in my face.

My face must have given away the concern I was still feeling, because Troy gave my hand another reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry. I'll keep an eye out for anything suspicious at work," he told me.

And I was instantly sure I could trust him.

Maybe it was his eyes; maybe it was the sincere look that was spread across his face. Or maybe it was that feeling I'd had since the day I'd first met him; that he was a genuinely lovely guy with the best of intentions.

I'd known Troy less than a week, but it really felt like it had been so much longer.

"Thank you," I nodded gratefully.

And I decided to just leave it at that for the time being – only because my interference in the business would be useless at this point.

In the meantime, Troy and I still had to play out the rest of the party as a couple. So we started to mingle again as the hot drinks were brought in.

I was glad to get a chance to chat to Frank properly; he'd simply explained that he was getting old – he felt it was high time to bow out of work gracefully and enjoy his retirement.

Thankfully, the time went smoothly and quickly, and before I knew it, every other guest had left and Troy and I were the only ones left.

Which meant the two of us were alone with my mum and dad again. And I wasn't so thankful for yet another awkward moment...

"Well!" Mum announced, her hostess voice still present. "What a wonderful evening! I hope we'll be seeing you here much more often now, Troy?"

I cringed, but Troy didn't even blink as his usual smile swept over his face. "I'd be delighted," he replied politely, sending me a twinkly-eyed glance that eased my embarrassment.

How did he always manage to do that to me?

"Troy, you have my full permission to date my daughter," Dad chimed in, to my absolute horror.

Was he serious? I'd never wished to be in a position where I had to remind people of my age, but at this moment I was dangerously close to having a breakdown and shouting out, "I'm nearly thirty years old!"

I just couldn't bring myself to talk about that milestone in front of Troy, though. So instead all I did was groan. Loudly. "Dad!"

"Gabriella dear, I'm joking," he told me with a chuckle. "But on a serious note...I do approve."

"Thank you, sir," Troy said with another easy smile.

I had to promise faithfully that we would come over for dinner again next Friday before we could actually escape.

Again, my partner in crime seemed much less inconvenienced than I did.

Before we'd left the house, Troy had taken my hand again. And now, as we headed out to his car, he still wasn't letting go. And I hoped he wouldn't until absolutely necessary.

"So," I said as we walked together. "Should I say thank you first, or would a 'sorry' be better?"

I was joking; but I was also still recovering from my embarrassment, so I felt the need to apologise for certain parts of the evening.

"You canthank me if you want to, but it's been my pleasure. I'm not sure where 'sorry' comes into it, though..." he replied. We reached his car, and he even went to open the door for me to get in.

"Errr..." I filled him in. "I'm sorry about my mother; I'm sorry about my father. And I'm sorry you had to pretend to be the boyfriend of this mad, clumsy woman who's barely the right side of thirty!"

Troy was silent then as he drove, and there was that intrigued look on his face again – the one I remembered seeing from him after I locked myself out of my flat.

Then he spoke up softly. "I'm not," was his simple reply.

I didn't get it at first. "Not what?"

"I'm not sorry I came with you tonight," he elaborated quite plainly.

He still looked perplexed. I wished I could tell what he was thinking now, but I hadn't a clue. Then, with belated horror, I realised what I'd just said in my apology speech.

"Did I just tell you how old I am?" I asked stupidly, because obviously the answer was yes.

He chuckled at me, much to my relief. It meant the awkward moment was over between us. "Erm...I think so? I didn't hear a specific number," he told me, his eyebrows knitted together in thought.

"Oh. Yeah, I was rambling a bit..." As an afterthought, I decided to be clear on something with him. "I'm twenty-nine, by the way."

What did my age matter, really? Unless I was about to find out that Troy was only twenty-two or something, and is therefore far too youthful looking for his own good...

He smiled at my answer, though; so I hoped that my last theory couldn't be the case. Besides, the way he talked, about himself and life in general, just didn't compute with someone only just out of college.

"Ah, thanks for the confirmation," he nodded. His eyes were twinkling even as they focused conscientiously on the road.

I was a bit put out that he hadn't offered to share his own age in return – I was sure he was playing around with me, though.

"Well?" I blurted out eventually.

"What's up?" he said, really grinning away now.

"I demand that you tell me how old you are! It's only fair."

Yet again, Troy let out a chuckle. I knew he was winding me up! "Alright then," he replied calmly.

I waited. He said nothing else. "Please don't tell me you're younger than me, because if you are I might just have to disown you right now," I teased.

"Uh oh..." This time he wasn't smiling, and slight panic set in when I saw his reaction.

Oh God, I thought. I don't think I want to know...It's bad enough knowing you're almost thirty without finding out your date might not be anywhere near that age!

"Gabi, relax, I'm joking. I'm thirty-two," he stated quickly. My face must have been a picture.

"Prove it!" I found myself saying. I wanted to make him think I was annoyed, but an involuntary giggle escaped after my words.

"What do you want me to do then, show you my driving licence?" Troy asked lightly, smirking away.

"Oh yeah, I think that will be necessary. In fact I think it's vital," I agreed firmly.

"Well! As your fake boyfriend I'm offended. As your date, however, I'll get over it - as long as you don't cancel on me," he told me with a sly grin.

I was confused. "Cancel what?"

"The date," he repeated slowly.

"You mean the one we've just been on?"

His eyes narrowed in a way that was becoming very familiar to me by now. I knew it meant he was puzzled again. "Gabi, that was only phase one of the evening. Now we're onto phase two," he informed me.

"I didn't know we'd divided the night into phases!" I said in surprised laughter.

It was only at that point that I bothered to look out of the window properly and saw that he wasn't actually driving us in the direction of home.

"I can turn around and head back to our building if you'd like? I mean, if you'd rather go home?" Troy offered then, suddenly looking as though he regretted being so secretive.

But I wanted to put him right straight away – he'd pleasantly surprised me again, but was obviously mistaking my reaction for reluctance.

And I certainly wasn't reluctant to spend more time in his company...

"Oh no, don't get me wrong!" I blurted out. "I'm glad the evening's not over yet. So, where are we going?"

The answer to that question turned out to be just a few seconds away; and in fact I'm still in that very place with him right at this moment.

All I can say so far is that Troy Bolton certainly likes to deliver on the unexpected. He might also be a little bit crazy.

But hey, so am I...

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