by C. J. Anaya
She might have lunged across the table to grab them if he hadn’t placed her spectacles in his jacket pocket. Retrieving them now would require far more physical contact than she was interested in. She had no intention of wrestling Brody Prescott for cheap Wal-Mart glasses.
“So now we’ll add thief to the list of all of your promising characteristics,” she muttered.
He considered her for a moment, allowing his eyes to study her face with little reserve. It was unnerving to say the least.
“Like what you see?” she snapped. That goal of complete and total indifference had just gone sailing out the café window.
“Oh, you definitely hold some appeal, young lady.”
She opened her mouth to let him know exactly where he could stick his own appeal when Gregg butted in.
“You know, she might be the perfect candidate. She looks like a woman of intelligence, and with an adjustment to hair and make-up she’d clean up quite nicely,” Gregg said in an all too pleasant tone. Then an angry scowl crossed his face. “That is, if you’re seriously interested in getting sued for breach of contract!”
“So you two assume I’m just going to go along with this?” She folded her arms across her chest and leaned back in her seat.
“Of course,” Brody said with assurance. “You’d be in the spotlight. You’d be plastered on all of the magazines on the arm of a handsome, wealthy, powerful man. Isn’t that what every girl wants?”
Midge’s experiences with that kind of attention had led to nothing but pain, embarrassment, and rejection. The spotlight had become dull. The glitz and glamour of a life among the rich and famous had become as dark and dangerous as a pit full of tigers.
Brody seemed to think her lack of response signified a consideration of his offer.
“At the very least, I’ll show you a good time, and in the end, you’ll have a fun story to tell your friends and family.”
She allowed her face to morph into a fake, exuberant smile before giving him her answer.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to decline the offer, Mr. Prescott. If the outcome of this entire exchange is for you to end up a bachelor once again, then having me as your fake girlfriend is going to be problematic for you.”
“Why is that?”
Midge leaned forward, reached for his hand that rested on the table and turned it palm up. She then drew lazy circles around his palm and up his wrist. His eyes darkened a bit with a heated look that communicated her affect on him.
She continued that soft contact as she said, “Spend enough time with me, and you’re liable to fall desperately in love. How will you be able to let me go after that?”
Without hesitating he captured her fingers in his grasp. Raising them to his lips, he softly kissed the tips of them, never breaking eye contact with her. She hadn’t been prepared for him to rally like that, and she found herself just as mesmerized by his actions as he had been with hers.
“Maybe I’m okay with the idea of never letting you go.”
Sweet maple syrup!
Unable to handle the smoldering heat of his gaze, she abruptly pulled her hand back and shot to her feet, grabbing her laptop and shoving it in her bag.
“Now,” she said, attempting to gain back that clinically indifferent tone of voice she’d perfected over the years with playboys like Mr. Prescott, “you can take my advice and find a girl with some substance who will be interested in you for your mind instead of your billions or you can go on a reality TV show and run into the same mind numbing scenario you’re doing your best to distance yourself from.” Midge moved to leave, but Brody placed a restraining hand upon hers, causing her heart to nearly stop with the adrenaline that shot through it. He rubbed his thumb in a slow circle around the inside of her wrist and gazed at her suggestively.
“Are you sure you don’t find me just the slightest bit attractive?”
He was using her move now, was he? He wanted to play games? Well, Midge could handle battleship like any old seasoned pro. She slowly bent over a little so that her lips hovered just centimeters from his. She heard his sharp intake of breath, as if he was a little surprised by her boldness or possibly affected by her proximity, and it emboldened her further. She hovered for just a moment longer, one centimeter closer to give him the right illusion, and then she paused again.
“Not even the slightest bit attractive, Mr. Prescott.” She straightened her posture, reached inside her purse and pulled out a pair of humongous sunglasses, which, when worn, covered nearly the entirety of her face. She quickly put her glasses on and then took a moment to peruse his gob smacked expression.
Priceless.
“Enjoy your jaunt with reality TV and all the craziness that’s sure to follow.” Midge saluted the assistant with mock seriousness as she strolled past the billionaire. “Gregg, good luck to you. You’re gonna need it.”
Walking out of Café Canapé with her pride intact made her feel as if she had just managed to lasso the moon.
Brody Prescott allowed the tempting librarian to walk out the café’s entrance, listening to the cheery bell that chimed as the door swung open and then closed, as if to announce the departure of a woman of significance.
Brody suspected her abrupt entrance into his life held a plethora of possibilities conveniently carried upon a sweet serendipitous breeze. His eyes followed her figure through the café windows, watching her lithe form as her narrow hips swayed hypnotically from side to side in a clipped, no-nonsense manner. Her bright, fiery red curls bounced out of her tight chignon, desperate for a bit of freedom as they fought their suffocating prison. Her movements were precise as she lifted those irritating sunglasses from her face and cleaned them with the bottom of her white tee. If he’d have known she had more glasses hiding away in that purse of hers, he would have broken them in half on the spot. They hid her exotic green eyes, pert nose, and an adorable array of freckles generously sprinkled across said pert nose’s bridge. Thank the Good Lord above for that last bit of detailing in the creation of this new and intriguing female.
He dug the freckles.
She placed the offensive sunglasses back on her lovely face and climbed into a light blue truck that had seen better days.
As she drove off, he felt certain he would see her again. Knew he would. He planned on making it happen one way or another.
“Gregg,” he barked.
Without having to look behind him, he knew his assistant startled in his seat. He had to fight the urge to chuckle. Gregg had been with him since the start up of the company, understanding the ins and outs of marketing and branding. He was a nervous, edgy man with gray hair, a bulbous nose, and a constant five o’clock shadow along his jaw line. Brody considered him family, but never missed an opportunity to mess with him.
Gregg joined him at the table the mysterious girl had vacated. Brody felt a strange prickle of longing.
“What do you think of her?” He never minced words with Gregg.
The man folded a freakishly long leg atop its twin and gave Brody an exasperated look.
“Absolutely not, Brody. Don’t even think about pursuing that…that…young lady. Backing out of a TV deal is not a decision you make lightly. We’re talking hundreds of thousands of dollars in legal expenses if Corbin Knightly decides to sue you. Plus, that Midge woman didn’t exactly jump at your offer. If she’s not amenable to the agreement, we can’t waste our time on a doomed venture.”
Brody gave him a grin. Gregg couldn’t adequately describe the enchanting little minx either. Perfection came to mind, but then he risked sounding like some cheesy guy in a chick flick.
“It isn’t likely that Corbin will go for the jugular since they haven’t released the news of my involvement yet.”
“They’ve already spent their budget on marketing. Marketing that revolves around you!” Gregg said. “A guy like Corbin Knightly is going to recoup his losses one way or another, and what if he decides to publicize your backing out? We’re trying to save your image as a re
spectable businessman.”
“I’ll reimburse them for their time and money, Gregg. I’m not worried about the financial hit this will take, and maligning my image will only give his show bad press.”
Gregg rested his forehead in his hands and moaned.
“I can’t believe you’re actually considering this!”
Brody leaned forward and caught Gregg’s eye with his intensity as he pointed his finger toward the door where his mousy librarian had just exited.
“She is the solution to our problem. She’s the polar opposite of all of those debutantes and celebrities you’ve thrown at me, and she has an actual personality and brains to go with it. Dating her will debunk these rumors about my professional and personal life.” Brody leaned back and nodded. “Yep. Any man could bring her home to his mama.” He smiled thinking about his mom’s likely reaction to Midge. His mother was a sassy lady who didn’t suffer fools well. They’d get along great.
Gregg pinched the bridge of his nose before replying. “Brody, the lies leaked to the tabloids and press are career ending unless we can prove them wrong.”
“You and I both know I would never break company privacy policies. I would never be desperate or stupid enough to contact women within the program unless they contacted me first.”
“Of course I know that, Brody. Give me some credit here. I’ve known you for ten years, and your character and integrity are what convinced me to join you when you started your company. I did; however, warn you right from the beginning that the founder of an online dating service who insisted on remaining a confirmed bachelor would eventually run into trouble. Your last mistress has played the part of a woman scorned to the very best of her abilities.”
Brody pointed a warning finger at him.
“I’ve never had, nor will I ever have, a mistress. You know how I feel about sleeping around. I don’t do casual, and I especially won’t get involved with women who do. Felicia was your idea, by the way, along with the others.” Brody shook his head. “You have to admire her cutthroat initiative, though. She brilliantly retaliated when I refused her loaded proposition for drinks at her place.”
“Hell hath no fury…” Gregg mumbled.
Brody sat back with a weary sigh. He should have seen it coming with Felicia. The minute Gregg introduced them, he had noted her cat-like eyes devouring him, ready to pounce the moment he gave her the signal. When he replaced that signal with a firm yet civil rejection, the she-cat went for blood. The lies Felicia had fed to several tabloids and magazines had called into question Brody’s ethics and his own ability to find a match for himself.
According to Gregg, Brody’s single status was a constant thorn in the company’s side, but if he were to be seen out and about with gorgeous females—some of whom were the daughters of rich senators, directors, CEO’s of other corporations, the elite crèm de la crèm of society—then at the very least his dating life would look like one long string of successes.
Brody knew that a confirmed bachelor heading an online dating service was a bit of an oxymoron. Despite his bachelor persona, he really was interested in finding someone he could settle down with, but he was in an impossible position. He couldn’t ethically use his own dating company to find that perfect match and meeting someone with zero ulterior motives where his money was concerned was just plain impossible. He should have had it made. His wealthy bachelor status meant that women were lining up, practically throwing themselves at him.
But that was the problem.
They were all too eager, all too available, and all too happy to be whatever they thought he wanted them to be. He wanted someone with substance, someone who challenged him, tested him, and encouraged him to be a far better individual than he was at the moment. He also desperately wanted to love someone without any fears or reservations. He wanted to share his wealth and success with an equal partner for the rest of his life so long as that partner loved the man and not the money.
Midge hadn’t cared about who he was or how much money he had, which meant any interest she showed in him would be genuine. So how was he going to attract her interest? He didn’t even know where she lived?
“I know Felicia is most definitely my responsibility, but repairing the damage she’s inflicted also falls under my jurisdiction. This TV series is going to be good for you. With any luck, you’ll actually meet the right girl and use that sparkling personality of yours to charm America in the process. This is a win-win.”
“Gregg, I really don’t want to do the show. I was in panic mode when I agreed to this idea. Finding love on TV where women are most likely there to further their acting careers sounds pathetic and desperate. As far as my personality goes, its more snarky than sparkly. Midge was right when she said I’d look like an idiot.”
“I seem to remember her wording it a bit differently than you.” Gregg’s look was sly. “That’s why editing is going to come in handy. The director can chop and cut as he pleases to maneuver you in the best light. I’m telling you, Brody, you need a fiancé and you need one soon. We have to nip this in the bud before America permanently sees you the way Felicia has painted you.”
Brody would have rather been drowned in a sea of blind dates than be the star of Marry Your Billionaire. This dating series, where numerous females spent weeks vying for some coveted engagement ring as he slowly got to know them and then callously eliminated them one by one was like some game show gone wrong.
It wasn’t like he was narrowing it down to his favorite flavor of ice cream. At the end of the series, they fully expected him to find “the one” and propose. He’d look like the playboy the media had pegged him for if he didn’t marry one of them, and he wasn’t about to marry for his image’s sake.
He looked up to find Gregg studying him.
“What?” Brody barked.
“What did you think of her?”
Brody swallowed hard. “I think it took me everything I had to allow her to walk away from me. Around her it felt like I was breathing fresh air for the first time.”
Gregg nodded. “Well, that was poetic. Sickeningly so. I can’t say I’m not thrilled about it. I’ve been waiting a long time for someone to turn that jaded head of yours, but it couldn’t have come at a worse time or with a worse female. Did you really have to bait her like that? You came across just as shallow as the tabloids have stated.”
“I couldn’t resist. The way her green eyes flashed and her cheeks flushed every time she got rattled was awesome. Her face is so expressive. Don’t you think?“
“I think, not only is she not impressed with you, she’s not the least bit interested in you. She wasn’t exactly subtle about that.”
“Then I can only improve upon further inspection. Correct?”
“Theoretically. There is that snarky personality of yours to contend with. You plan on wooing the lady? You’re actually going to make an effort when it comes to dating?”
“I plan on sweeping her off her feet, turning her world upside down, and laying bare my heart while winning hers in the process.”
Gregg smirked. “You’re a hopeless romantic, you know that? How a sappy guy like you has managed to stay single for the past ten years is absolutely beyond me.” He leaned forward, and his intense energy caused the table to lurch a bit with his movement. “You have a meeting with the producer of the series in a little over an hour. What exactly do you plan on telling him?”
Brody furiously scrubbed his fist into the side of his head, a nervous habit he was convinced helped him think better. “I’m out. I’m done.” Gregg let out another agonized moan. “Even if I did decide to continue on with this ridiculous rat race, I’d never be able to focus now that Midge has jumped onto my radar.”
Brody watched as Gregg took a moment to accept this drastic game changer. He sighed in frustration and then finally nodded his acknowledgment.
“And then?”
“We’re going to track down that mousy librarian.”
Gregg let out a rueful ch
uckle. “How many hours of sleep is that going to cost me?”
“Cost me, you mean? You’re an insomniac anyway. Neither one of us is sleeping until Midge has agreed to a first date with me.”
“So let it be written…” Gregg intoned dramatically while fisting a hand to his chest.
Brody’s grin broadened and he made a similar gesture, wondering if the longing he had previously felt was what made his chest ache as he gently touched it with his fist.
“So let it be done.”
***
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About the Author
I began writing short stories for family and friends when I was thirteen years old. My vivid imagination and love of mysteries and romances eventually led me to following my own dreams of becoming a published author. I also do some book review work for Skin Deep Exposure Magazine on the side.
I’m a huge fan of The Mindy Project, Hugh Jackman, and binge eating any and all things chocolate.
Who isn’t?
As a mother of four awesome kids I’m usually playing beauty salon with my daughters—my four-year-old shaved my arm one time while I was helping another daughter with her homework. Yep. That happened—getting my fanny kicked in Mario Kart by my snarky little son, and making out with my deliciously handsome Latin lover, aka, my hubby.
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