Boyfriend for Hire

by Gail Chianese

  Ivan the Not-So-Terrible-Sexy-Sexist?

  She’d have to send him a thank-you e-mail. Out of curiosity she brought up the company profile and scanned the details. Holy cow, a thousand employees, plus their significant others. Totally epic gig. Four times the number of guests they had for the community center gala. Now this would be a challenge, unlike the luncheon, and she was the lead planner.

  I’ve got to call and tell David.

  Whoa. David? Shouldn’t that have been Cherry? It had always been Cherry whom she had turned to first with the good, the bad, heartbreaks or successes. Yet somehow over the past couple of weeks amidst sawdust, exhaustion, and throbbing, sore muscles David had worked his way under her skin.

  Spending time with him had been a dangerous idea, but the story of the family they were building the Habitat for Humanity house for touched her heart, and before she had time to think, to come up with reasons not to, she’d volunteered. And just like then, before she could think of all of the reasons not to, she picked up the phone and invited David Farber to dinner.

  Bottle of wine? Check. Flowers? Check. Chocolate? Damn, Dave knew he forgot something in his haste to get to Tawny’s place on time. Run to the store and get a box? Nah, Tawny would accuse him of being a cliché. She’d already told him he didn’t need to bring anything to dinner, and she might feel the trifecta pushed the boundaries of their friendship. He’d love to push the boundaries, right into the bedroom.

  The woman was unlike any he’d ever been interested in before, and he had no plans of blowing it by treating her like all the rest, those who had only been interested in what Dave could give them. He knocked on the door, waiting for her to answer. Hoping her good news would be she wanted to jump him probably pushed the realm of reality, but hey, a guy could wish. Tawny opened the door and wishful thinking went straight to fantasy. She was a dream come true in a curve-hugging dress held up by barely there straps. Straps he’d like to slip down her smooth, tan arms and test the laws of gravity with a little help.

  “Do you plan to come in or stand on the step all night? Because if you choose the latter, you’re going to miss out on a scrumptious dinner.” Tawny crossed her arms over her middle, hiking up her breasts. Did the woman even know what she did to him or men in general?

  “Depends. You didn’t say what was for dinner. If it’s tuna noodle casserole, I’ll pass.”

  “Oh, damn your luck. My tuna noodle isn’t your everyday Tuna Helper variety. I put chips and cheese on mine.”

  “Doesn’t everybody?” He’d eaten enough of the disgusting dish as kid to vow he’d never go near it again. For Tawny, he might make an exception.

  “I assure you mine is different than those you’ve sampled before.” She walked away, hips swaying in invitation.

  No longer sure if they were still discussing food or something else, Dave followed her in like a lost puppy looking for a home. And like any hungry dog, the first thing that hit his nose was the smell—roasted garlic and tomato sauce.

  “Are those for me?” Tawny pointed toward his hand with the wooden spoon she’d used to stir the noodles boiling on the stove.

  Dave looked down. Oh yeah, he’d brought flowers and wine. He handed her the bouquet. “These are for you, as you said you had good news to share, and this,” he held up the wine bottle, “is for us.”

  He wandered around the living room as she took both gifts into the kitchen. It could use a little work, but the place had good bones with lots of room to move around in. Nothing too girly to make his man parts run screaming, but all her. Soft, warm and bright. He came to stand at the entrance to the kitchen. Tawny swayed and bopped to the music she had playing quietly. She’d already popped the cork and had the wine breathing, the flowers in a vase and now sitting on the dining room table. Efficient. Organized. Everything he wasn’t.

  The day had been crap. Distracted by a problem in the kitchen, he’d forgotten what he’d been doing in the bathroom on the second floor and drowned the first floor parlor. Fucking ADD. Tawny’s invitation had been the only thing that went right all day. Why he’d let Brody and Jason convince him to take on the role of project manager beat the hell out of him. He was ready to throw in the towel.

  She blew on a spoonful of sauce before taste-testing. Eyes closed, a small moan escaped. She dipped the spoon again and brought it to him, her other hand cupped beneath. “Taste,” she demanded.

  “Mmm, spicy. Just the way I like it.”

  She cocked her head to the side and stared. Her gaze bored straight through him, seeing more than he intended. He didn’t want to talk about his feelings and he could see that was the question on her mind, so he turned the conversation away before it could start. “Spice, like variety, is what keeps life interesting. Right?”

  Tawny went back to the stove, turned off the flame under the saucepot, and got the pot of noodles. “Absolutely. Who wants the same old crackers every day? Why don’t you pour the wine while I finish this up and bring it to the table?” She’d let his comment slide even though he could hear the sarcasm in her voice.

  Fine with him. He filled the wineglasses higher than was socially considered the full mark and carried them to the table she’d set before his arrival. Along with his flowers, she’d added candles that he now lit.

  “Thanks.” Tawny set a bowl of salad and another of bread on the table before heading back for the pasta.

  He would have been fine with the noodles. Women always thought about the sides. The extra details that turned the everyday norm into something special: cloth napkins, soft music, nice dishes. He appreciated the effort she’d gone to, and for that reason he checked his crappy day at the back of his mind and focused on her. Not a hard task.

  He used the time waiting for her to join him to tap into the happy, laid-back guy most knew him to be. As she approached the table, he pulled out the chair and held it for Tawny before joining her. “You look amazing, as does dinner.” He raised his wineglass. “What are we celebrating tonight?”

  She raised her glass to meet his. “To letting go, putting the past where it belongs—in a memory box—and embracing what life brings your way.” She clinked the crystal together before drinking long and deep.

  Dave watched with a raised brow. Someone was awfully thirsty or trying to convince herself of her own words. “Sounds like someone had an interesting day.”

  “Interesting, enlightening, rewarding. Pick one, they all fit at one point throughout the day.” She stabbed at the penne and gestured toward him. “How’s the B-and-B going?”

  Shoveling a forkful of spicy pasta into his mouth, he ran through his responses. Crappy. Epic fail. Fucked up beyond all recognition. “Nothing to write home about. Tell me about your day. What made it worth a celebration dinner?”

  She mused a little longer over her answer than he expected, staring at her wineglass. “It was an anthology of events really, but they led up to the silver lining. I was handed a major event, a holiday party with about two thousand guests for a high-profile company.”

  He raised his glass to her and considered the guarded look in her eyes. “Cheers. Quite the accomplishment in a short time.”

  She clinked glasses with his and took a small sip. “Trust me, I know. Your buddy Ted was quick to point out Mrs. Spinelli never assigns a new person a big project so soon. At least, not as the lead planner. So when she did, it turned what was morphing into a craptastic day into a fantastic day.”

  “This is really good.” He ran the name through his mental file and couldn’t come up with a match on the name. “Who’s Ted?” he asked around a mouthful of pasta.

  “Dios. Your dive buddy. For some reason I can never remember his name.”

  “Phil, and I’m surprised you’re not out celebrating with Cherry.”

  “Philphilphilphil. Maybe I should write it on sticky notes and post them all over the house. Can memory loss start in your twenties?”

  “Nah, it’s probably stress. Try a mnemonic.”

  Sh
e waved a forkful of pasta at him. “How about ‘Please Help I’m Lame’ because I can never remember his name? Anyway, I wanted to share the news with you.” A blush swept across her cheeks as she dropped her gaze.

  David traced his thumb down the side of her face, skimming along her jaw until he reached her chin, where he gently tilted her face to meet his gaze. “Thank you.”

  “You did help me land the job.”

  “Is that the only reason?”

  The pink stain on her cheeks brightened.

  “Never mind. Tell me what else happened. The craptastic part.”

  She refilled their wineglasses, grabbed the bottle and her glass, and headed toward the couch. Dave followed. He wanted to pull Tawny into his arms and wipe away the frown marring her pretty face. Instead he dropped onto the sofa and waited for her to spill. It was what women liked, right? To talk? So why wasn’t she? “Tawny?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Over and done with.” Her voice shook, a small tremor in the middle of her statement.

  “It does matter, to you. And to me. Tell me. Tell me what led to letting go.” He covered her hand with his. Soft, smooth, and so small in his calloused big paws. Everything about Tawny fascinated him. Gone was the driven ballbuster he’d met at the fund-raising dinner she’d overseen. The woman was smart, funny, flirty, although never with him. With him, she never cut him a break. These last couple of weeks, she’d changed, allowed him to see a softer side of her, a vulnerable side he instinctively wanted to protect and trust.

  “Why?” she whispered.

  He didn’t fully understand it to explain it. She got to him more than any woman he’d ever known. She saw past his bullshit façade, demanded more from him than anyone ever had except Jase and Brody, and just like his pals, she didn’t expect him to screw up everything beyond all recognition, despite the lifelong nickname.

  “You matter to me. What happens to you matters, and I’ve had enough craptastic days to know if you talk about them with a friend, it takes their power away.”

  A small smile spread, lightening up her eyes. Dave’s heart squeezed with an emotion he didn’t want to analyze. Warm, rich laughter filled the room.

  “Really? Sounds like someone’s been watching the Oxygen Channel.”

  “Nah, I prefer Lifetime and the occasional Cosmo article.” He flashed her his best wolf grin before dropping his gaze to her chest.

  She reached out, lifted his chin. “Hey, eyes up here, buster.” Her voice came out stern and went breathy as she caught his gaze.

  Yeah, he wanted her and now she knew it. Not much he could do about the emotions messing up his insides. How he reacted? Now that he had control over, which meant he wouldn’t push her beyond what she wanted, no matter what his inner caveman said.

  “Honestly, it’s no big deal. Colony Bank had a loan officer position open. I applied. Didn’t get it, but got the epic party to plan instead. Life goes on, or at least it does if you don’t let the past hold you back.”

  Sometimes. At other times, the past kept you from making a bigger ass out of yourself, or it would if he’d listen to the lessons he’d learned along the way.

  “David.” She said nothing else until he turned to meet her questioning look. Tawny’s carefree grin drooped as she studied him. “David Farber, you’re such a fake.”

  He reared back. “What?”

  “The carefree guy, just looking for a good time. Always so Zen with your let-life-happen attitude. It’s an act. Your eyes give you away. Weighted down with burdens I’m betting you don’t even share with Jason or Brody. Nothing fazes the calm, cool, collected Fubar, does it? But that’s not true. You’ve been lecturing me for weeks to move on, to make new plans, to get over what happened at the bank. Yet just now, when I talked about the past, there was this look on your face. What’s holding you back?”

  Shit. How did this woman see so much? Things he’d hidden from everyone, even his best friends. Must be some freaky female intuition crap. “Nothing. Had a bad day at work, until you called.”

  “Uh-huh. I didn’t realize we were on One Way Street.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Her bullshit meter went off, lifting the left brow only. He’d had it aimed at him enough to recognize the look by now. Arms crossed, pushing those lovely breasts up again. Squinty eyes of death stared back at him. He should stop while he was ahead.

  “It means it’s okay for me to spill my guts, tell you everything going on with me and what I’m thinking, but you don’t have to share anything in return. I thought we were friends?”

  Great, buddies, pals, BFFs. In the “zone.” Not what he wanted to hear. “We are.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “Fine, you want to know what I was thinking? I was thinking today had been a fucked-up day. One of many in my life that has earned me the nickname of FUBAR.”

  When his admission did nothing to move her, he told Tawny about the schedule screwup, ordering the wrong kitchen cabinets, and the great parlor flood. Sitting back, he waited for the snide comments, the questions about his intelligence and remarks about how he needed to get his head in the fucking game. He’d heard them so many times growing up from his parents, teachers, other kids that they no longer fazed him.

  Shooting to his feet, he decided he’d rather not hear the spiel from Tawny too. From their first meeting he’d known she was unlike any other, and out of his league. Better to live with the fantasy than have reality knock him on his ass. “I’ve got—”

  Her gentle touch on his arm stopped him in his tracks.

  “Dave, we all have bad days. Tomorrow this will be a distant memory and you’ll be back on schedule.”

  “I doubt it, but thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  She tugged his hand toward her. “Please sit. Tell me what else is going on. I’ll help in any way I can, even if it’s just an ear to vent to. Your secrets are safe with me. I promise.”

  “Cone of silence?”

  She looked left, then right. “Secret Squirrel reporting for duty. I vow to take any and all information divulged here today to the grave,” she whispered.

  Big brown eyes batted long, lush lashes at him as she swiped her finger twice over her chest in the form of an “X.” The ultimate promise. Dropping back to the couch, he couldn’t resist Tawny. Hadn’t since the first day they’d met.

  “To answer your earlier question, no, Jase and Brody don’t know everything. They may suspect, but they’ve never asked and I’ve never told. It’s no big deal. I’ve got ADD, which makes it hard to stay focused at times.”

  “Like when you have too many tasks coming at you all at once?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Does medicine help?”

  “Wouldn’t know. My mom refused to believe there was anything wrong with her baby. She told the doctor he didn’t know what he was talking about. I learned to deal with the issue on my own.”

  “By charming pretty girls to do your homework and getting teachers to give you a pass on late assignments?” Her voice teased; her eyes, her eyes saw right through him.

  “Pretty much.” He held up his hands in a hey-whatever-it-takes gesture. “I’ve also learned to keep the distractions to a minimum.”

  She laced her fingers through his, holding their hands in her lap. Talk about distractions.

  “Which was easy when you let Jason run the business and left the legal stuff to Brody?” At his surprised look, she went on. “Yeah, Cherry told me how the three of you own Valentine Rehab. You’re pretty good at keeping secrets, but I don’t understand what the big deal is. Lots of people have ADHD. Why not tell your business partners?”

  Says the smart girl who aced every class in high school and college. Yeah, he’d done his own asking around. No surprise she didn’t get it, yet it threw him right back into the mix of the past and the taunts he’d endured. “It’s ADD. I don’t bounce off the walls, which made it easier to hide. Most of the brainiacs, like you, just classified me as another dumb jock.”
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br />   She punched him in the arm. Hard. “Hey, what gives?”

  In one swift motion, Tawny threw her leg over his, straddling him. She grabbed his shirt in her fist, pulling him forward and putting his face in the middle of her boobs. A distraction he warmly welcomed.

  “Don’t do that, don’t put yourself down. I’ve never called you dumb or even thought you were, and I’m no brainiac. School’s over, who cares what a bunch of self-absorbed kids thought a decade ago. Follow your own advice and let it go. You know,” she said as she released the grasp on his shirt, “I’m pretty good at staying on task. Maybe I can help you?”

  Dave slid his palms up the sides of her thighs, bunching the dress as he went, until his hands landed on her sweet, generous hips. “What did you have in mind?”

  “For starters, how about we put all thoughts of work away and we practice on keeping your focus on one thing?” Her hands burrowed into his hair as she leaned down to meet his mouth with her luscious pink lips.

  He pulled back, studying her. Not that he didn’t appreciate the lesson, but he didn’t need a pity fuck or whatever she had in mind. With every passing minute he spent with Tawny, he wanted her more. She invaded his dreams at night and his thoughts during the day. For months he’d envisioned her naked and under him, against the wall, spread out on the table, any way he could have her, but not because she felt sorry for him. He wanted more. He wanted her respect.

  “What’s wrong?” Her fingers deftly massaged the back of his head, her voice soft and unsure. Damn, he was screwing this up.

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this.” He blew out a breath, counting to five to get his mind off the ache between his thighs. “It’s not that I don’t welcome the assignment, darling, but I’ve never had a focus problem in the bedroom. And—” He laid a finger across her mouth to stop her rant, because he could see the fire light up her eyes. “I don’t want a sympathy lay from you.”