by Megan Bryce
“Don’t make me look like a clown.”
“I will be the judge of that. You think any lipstick brighter than nude is clownish.” Cassandra patted the toilet seat cover. “Sit. Let me work my magic.”
“I need to wash my hair first. Tame this wild beast.”
“Don’t wash it out!”
“I look like a floozy.”
Cassandra shook her head. “You look gorgeous. Now that I’ve gotten over the shock. Very Anna Nicole Smith.”
“Oh, that’s going to win you this conversation.”
Cassandra pushed Mackenzie down. “I meant from the early years, but I can see how you wouldn’t like that comparison. Even if you have caught yourself a very rich, older gentleman.”
“Ethan is probably only five years older than me; emotionally he’s a good ten years behind. And I haven’t caught him. If anyone is dangling on the end of a hook, it’s me.” She stood up. “I’m taking a quick shower. I can’t get rid of the blond, today at least, but the poofiness has to go.”
Cassandra put her hands back on Mackenzie’s shoulders, blocking her path. “Come on. Give Ethan Howell O’Connor a taste of the magnificence you hide behind sensible. And give the tabloids some good pictures. All they’ve got right now is you sweaty and dusty.” Cassandra kept a firm grip on her shoulders. “His mother will hate it.”
Mackenzie rolled her eyes. “You are very unsubtle.”
“But, unfortunately for you, also very right.”
Mackenzie closed her eyes, giving in. “You know, she’s turning into my Achilles’ heel. This is exactly how I got my hair turned Anna Nicole blond in the first place.”
Cassandra made up Mackenzie’s face and even if Mackenzie hated how bright and perky she looked, she had to admit she did look good. And not anything like herself.
Cassandra said, “And I’ve got something every woman who finds herself accidentally dating a celebrity playboy needs. Be right back.”
Mackenzie yelled after her, “If you come back with a box of condoms, I’m going to strangle you.”
Cassandra came back in. “I wish I’d thought of that. But no. Something even more practical.”
She held up an elastic bodysuit. “Spanx. Every woman in L.A. owns a pair. They pass them out when you move in.” Cassandra dropped it into Mackenzie’s hands. “I don’t know how they missed you but trust me. Everything wears better over Spanx. And these pictures will be haunting you forever. I’ll get your outfit.”
Mackenzie squeezed herself into the Spanx, ignoring with all her might the thought of being splashed on the front of every tabloid. The Enquirer had been bad enough.
Cassandra handed her a slinky gray dress.
Mackenzie took it reluctantly. “What’s this?”
“It was in the bag you brought home.”
“No, I got pants. Classic pants and a nice blouse.”
“This was the only thing in the bag.”
Mackenzie glared at the offending fabric. “Ellen.”
“Ellen has good taste. Put it on.” Cassandra shut the door.
Mackenzie shouted through the door, “I can’t wear this. He dates models.” She looked down at herself. “I will not compare well.”
“La-la. Can’t hear you. Put it on and then we’ll see.”
Mackenzie glared at herself in the mirror. Was this all worth a million dollars?
No.
But she threw the dress over her head anyway.
She flung the door open without looking in the mirror.
A slow smile spread across Cassandra’s face as she inspected Mackenzie. “So, this is what money can do. And you compare just fine.”
“I’m too muscular for a dress like this.”
Years of softball had left her with nicely toned arms and too-wide shoulders. She spent a lot of effort minimizing her upper body and this dress hugged her body, leaving her exposed and self-conscious.
Cassandra shook her head. “No. You look fabulous. The Spanx is pushing everything up. This is what all the celebs do.”
“I look like a football player.”
“Trust me, you do not. And you know, you don’t look anything like a waify, breastless model either. What’s the opposite of frail?”
“Substantial?” Mackenzie walked back into the bathroom to look at herself. “Sturdy? I look sturdy.”
Cassandra made a face. “No. You look capable. Entirely capable of handling Ethan O’Connor.”
“Oh, great. I look like a school mistress.”
“The hottest school mistress I’ve ever seen. No one will doubt for a moment that you hooked Ethan Howell O’Connor.”
“Give me some pants. I don’t want to look like a hot school mistress. I want to look like a serious, professional woman.”
“Who happened to get her paws on Ethan O’Connor?”
Mackenzie made a face. “It does seem a stretch. But maybe I can bring some much needed seriousness to his image. Instead of dragging mine through the mud.”
“Go look in the full-length in my bedroom and then tell me you want pants.”
Mackenzie made a beeline for the bedroom. Oh, she’d want pants alright. And a jacket. She would feel so much more comfortable in a nice jacket or blazer. Or shawl. Anything.
Mackenzie found the full-length, adjusting it so could see herself from head to toe. She looked at the woman in the mirror and wanted to vomit. Cassandra was right, no one would be looking at her shoulders. This was what happened when a playboy got his mitts on you. You found yourself turned into a sex object.
Her newly blond hair hung in waves past her shoulders, looking as if gravity didn’t exist anywhere near her head. Her Spanxed body was pinched and pushed up as far as it was physically possible in two very prominent areas. She turned to the side, inspecting her now extremely perky butt and dreamed about pinstripes and kitten heels.
The only good thing that could be said about the dress was that her skin was at least covered. And it was a dark gray.
And her strappy high heels were silver. She’d picked those out herself and they made her legs look longer. She twirled, the material of the dress flaring out. If she pretended it wasn’t her, she could admire it. Her legs did look pretty good.
And with her blond hair she was nearly unrecognizable. You’d have to look close to know it was her. For one moment she thought she might be able to pull this off without destroying her reputation and sense of self.
And then the doorbell rang and she thought, Who am I kidding? She was engaged to Ethan Howell O’Connor. She was going to have to change her name and move out of the country when this farce was finished.
She went to answer the door but Cassandra had beaten her to it. Ethan held Cassandra’s hand in his own and was smiling down into her eyes. She was looking up with a stupid expression on her face and Mackenzie knew he had conquered one more hapless female.
She couldn’t really fault Cassandra. He was dressed in a dark gray suit, a light lavender shirt and silver tie, and he looked expensive and sexy. Mackenzie couldn’t help but think that she liked him better in a short-sleeve t-shirt and sweats.
He looked up when she walked into the room and his mouth fell open. His eyes widened as he looked at her hair, then he looked down at her legs. “I’ve never seen you in a dress before.”
He blinked and shook his head. “I mean, you look beautiful. Ellen told me what colors to wear, but neglected to mention the change to your hair.”
He stepped toward her, reaching for her hands and holding them wide so he could see her dress. Cassandra stepped behind him, widening her eyes and fanning herself. She mouthed, “He’s hot!”
Mackenzie ignored her and glared at Ethan.
He smiled. “Truly. You look lovely.”
She pursed her lips. “I’m going to change into pants. I don’t know what your grandmother was thinking. She said she wasn’t going to turn me into a Barbie.”
He chuckled and pulled her hand through his arm. “Cranky already? Good thing I
brought you a Twix. It’s in the limo.”
“Limo?”
“We’re celebrating our engagement. The limo keeps my hands free.”
She glared at him as he pulled her out the door and he turned around to wink at Cassandra. “Don’t wait up.”
Ethan ushered Mackenzie out to the waiting limo, trying not to stare at her legs or her hair. Or any points in between. He’d seen legs before, for God’s sake.
But never hers.
And her suddenly blond hair was throwing him off balance. He could tell by Mackenzie’s cranky glare that she was not happy with the transformation.
He’d have to ask his grandmother how that had happened. Call him psychic, but he thought it would be better not to bring up today’s shopping trip.
Ethan helped her into the limo, adjusting his pants before he got in. There wasn’t going to be any problem showing some heat for the paparazzi. Maybe that’s what his grandmother had been thinking.
Of course, he might be feeling the heat, but Mackenzie was looking antagonistic. She sat with her arms folded across her chest, staring out the window. Trying to explode cars with her gaze.
He held a Twix out to her. “A sweet for my sweet?”
When she reached for it, he pulled back. “Smile first. We’re engaged. We’re supposed to be happy, not homicidal.”
“Do you know what I’ve done today? Emptied my office, listened to three people wonder at our sex life, sat in a chair getting my hair dyed for three hours, and spent an uncomfortable lunch with your mother. I’m exhausted and you want a smile? You’re lucky I don’t stab you in the eye with my keys.”
He handed her the Twix. “Here. We can stop and get more if that doesn’t do the trick.”
He reached into his suit pocket and handed her a cellphone. “And here. Welcome to the twenty-first century.”
Mackenzie stared at it glumly. “Great. Just what I’ve always wanted.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know how you’ve done all your sales without a cellphone.”
“I sit at my desk and don’t do anything else until the day is done. It’s too easy to allow distractions to intrude when I have a cellphone.”
“I won’t argue with the results. But what about your personal life?”
“Personal is for after work. I like to keep things separate.”
“I’ve noticed.”
She flung her hand out, waving it towards Ethan and the limo. “Look what happens when I don’t. I play one little softball game and I get pictures of me splashed on the front of the National Enquirer and then fake engaged to my boss. Talk about mixing business with personal.”
“I thought you were going to say mixing business with pleasure.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Did you?”
Ethan laughed. “It was a good game of softball. Almost makes everything that’s come after it worthwhile.”
She huffed in annoyance. “I didn’t even win. It wasn’t worth it at all.”
“Maybe next time. Now you know to wear short shorts.”
“Or maybe glue your mouth shut.”
“How about we compromise and say both?”
“I might wear some short shorts if it would glue your mouth shut.”
He looked down at her legs, her toes peeking out of her shoes. He could think of something better than glue to keep his mouth occupied. And he was wondering how he was going to talk her into it when he looked back up and met her eyes.
She fidgeted in her seat and turned to look out the window again. He watched her ignore him and then smiled. He’d expected a smack-down. A fidget was more than he’d ever gotten from Mackenzie before. Maybe getting her out of her element would work in his favor, and he was definitely one to push his luck. Especially where the unflappable Mackenzie was concerned.
The limo pulled up to the restaurant and satisfaction filled Ethan when he saw the sidewalk lined with cameras. Pictures of his new fiancé would be everywhere by tomorrow.
Mackenzie jumped when a movie star and his wife walked by and Ethan said, “If you want pictures taken in L.A., this is where you eat. Oscar campaigns, rumors of a breakup that need defending, rumors of an engagement you need to confirm.” He smiled at her. “Come here, give them some pictures, and they leave you alone the rest of the time. Usually.”
“You live in a strange world.”
“I’ve learned to work around it. Now show me your happily engaged face.”
She looked at him.
He said, “Come on, you’re supposed to be happy. After five long years, we’ll finally be together.”
“You wore me down, remember? You’re supposed to be happy. I’m supposed to be horrified by all this attention.”
“You’ve certainly got that look down. But you can’t go out scowling like that. Everybody wants to see us happy.”
Mackenzie looked skeptical. “Just who is everybody? And why do we care what they want?”
“Everybody is everybody. And I care because if I wake up to one more quote from an ex maligning my bedroom technique I will have to go into hiding with my mother and grandma. I’d rather go into hiding with you.” He glanced at her attempt at a smile. “Just barely. Now, smile.”
“I am.”
“That is not a smile. That look will send my mother running.”
Mackenzie let out a puff of air and tried again. “There. Is this better?”
He looked at her dubiously. “I know I’ve seen you smile before. This is just baring your teeth.”
Ethan pulled out his wallet and took out a folded piece of paper. He handed it to her and she gingerly opened it. “See, you were smiling here.”
“Why do you have a copy of the National Enquirer in your wallet?”
“Look at us, Mackenzie. Just look.”
“I would really rather not.”
He scooted over to sit next to her. “This is what people want to see. Whatever ‘it’ is, we’ve got it. I’m getting hot and bothered just looking at the pictures.”
“Stop it.” She thrust the paper back at him.
Ethan took the paper, holding on to her hand. “You know what I’ve never done before? Kissed my fiancé.”
Mackenzie reared back in alarm. “Yes, you have. Right before you announced to the world I was engaged to you. And then right after we signed the pre-nup.”
He stroked her hand and murmured, “Oh, yes. How did I forget those? Maybe because neither was a real kiss.”
“There won’t be any real kisses. This is all fake, remember?”
“It’s not all fake.” He looked into her eyes. “Here’s the deal. You can come out of the car with me, smiling. Or you can kiss me.”
“I’m smiling!”
He shook his head. “Sadly, that is not a smile.”
Ethan hooked his arm around her waist, pulling her towards him, and she flattened her hands against his chest. She said, “This was not in any part of our agreement.”
“I don’t know why we didn’t address it then. I tried, if you’ll remember.”
“There was nothing to address, then or now.”
His lips touched hers and she jerked her head back.
He slid his hand up her back and into her hair, and he held her head still as his lips touched hers again. His tongue tickled the seam of her lips and she kept them firmly shut. He looked at her through lidded eyes and found her looking back at him. He trailed kisses across her cheek to her ear.
He whispered, “You look beautiful. But I liked your hair brown.”
Mackenzie whispered back, “It’s your mother’s fault.”
“Try not to listen to my mother, would you?”
“I could probably do that.”
“Good. Now can we stop talking about her?”
Mackenzie leaned back slightly. “You’re the one who brought her up.”
“I did? My mistake.”
She laughed and he took advantage of her open mouth. She tasted like chocolate and smelled like woman. It was kryptonite to h
is self-control and when she stopped fighting and let his tongue enter her mouth, he forgot where they were.
She mumbled against his lips. “This is a bad idea.”
“The worst I’ve ever had.”
She sighed slightly and leaned into him. “As long as you realize that.”
“Oh, I do. I really, really do.”
Mackenzie gave a breathy chuckle and Ethan gripped her thigh, pulling her leg over his hip until she was nearly straddling him and her dress was riding dangerously high.
He circled the back of her thighs with his hands, his fingers grazing the apex of her legs.
Her breath whooshed out and he doubled down, one hand moving up to cup her butt and pull her even closer. He slid his other fingers lightly up and down.
She murmured, “I’m pretty sure this counts as sexual harassment.”
“Absolutely. Be sure and tell the judge that you like to be on top.”
Mackenzie leaned against him heavily, her mouth fighting his for dominance. He bit her lip, then sucked lightly, easing the sting.
Her hands fisted in his hair, pulling slightly, and he grinned against her mouth.
He gripped her hips, pushing her down onto his lap, rubbing his erection against her, and her breath caught. Ethan’s fingers tightened, digging into her flesh, and then moved north.
His hands roamed higher and higher, searching for the top of her panties, until her dress was pushed to her waist. He tore his mouth from hers and looked down at what his fingers had been trying to tell his brain. He wasn’t getting into this woman’s underpants.
He growled, “Goddamn Spanx.”
He thought about trying to rip the offending garment off but even in his lust-induced haze he realized the futility of that. He looked around wildly. His keys? Could he hack it off with his keys?
Mackenzie dropped her head onto his shoulder and whispered, “Ethan.”
He damn near exploded right then.
He tipped his head back and took a deep breath. Then another.
She tried to climb off him and he wrapped an arm around her waist, securing her to him while he breathed. In and out.
A paparazzo sidled up to the limo and tried to look through the window, and Ethan remembered where they were and what they were supposed to be doing.