Blitzing Emily

by Julie Brannagh

  He avoided Emily’s eyes. She walked away from him.

  “Want to sit down?” She tossed the words over her shoulder.

  “Hey, let’s get the news,” he said, and flipped to ESPN.

  “Excuse me,” she said. “SportsCenter is not news.” Despite his commandeering the remote again, she had to smile.

  “It’s the most important news.” He laughed, and turned up the volume on the television. There was a photo of Brandon on the screen, and one of her.

  “It’s the end of an era this morning,” the announcer said. “Our sources tell us that Brandon McKenna, the Seattle Sharks’ All-Planet defensive end and ladies’ man, is off the market. McKenna’s engaged to opera diva Emily Hamilton. Wedding plans are pending. Our congratulations go out to the happy couple.”

  Emily turned to Brandon in shock. He grinned in response. Her home phone and cell phone both started ringing.

  Chapter Four

  * * *

  EMILY’S MOUTH OPENED and shut, and opened again.

  Brandon just sipped his coffee. The phones were still ringing. They stopped, and then started again. Emily’s voicemail was going to be full if she didn’t pick one of them up. Right now, though, it was the last thing she intended to do.

  She took the deepest breath she could. “This is an accident. They think we’re engaged?” She gasped. “We—we’re not engaged. We’re not even dating. I met you yesterday. Why are they— Oooh!” Emily pointed at the television screen. “We have to do something about this.”

  Brandon didn’t seem upset by this development. His body shook with laughter, and he put his cup down on the table in front of them. “Not dating? We could change that.” Emily’s glare was lethal. He ignored it, and stretched his arm out across the back of the couch, his fingers brushing her shoulders. “According to ESPN, you’re my betrothed. I’m thinking this could work out well for me.” His smile was confident. “How about making me some breakfast, sugar?”

  Emily’s mouth dropped open. In the meantime the bare skin he was touching was starting to tingle just a bit. She was spellbound by her head shot on the television screen and she didn’t answer.

  His voice dropped to a murmur. “Of course you want to do this for me.” Emily swallowed hard. She could feel the hot flush spreading over her cheeks. Even more, things were—liquefying. Yeah. She knew she owed him something for making sure she was still amongst the living, but cooking wasn’t one of her talents.

  She shouldn’t be reacting to him this way. She knew better than that. “Player, player, player,” she mentally chanted. He could charm a rock, though.

  He abruptly shoved himself off the couch. “I need to use your phone.” He grabbed the cordless as he strolled away from her. It rang again before he could hit “talk.” Brandon answered it.

  “McKenna.” He turned back to Emily. “Just one moment.” She took the receiver from him. “It’s your manager,” he said.

  “Hi, David.” She got up from the couch, walked to the kitchen table, and dropped into a chair.

  “That must be your fiancé.”

  “David, there’s been a—”

  “Congratulations, Emily,” he interrupted. “The phone’s been ringing like mad. I’ve had five booking requests this morning already. Five. What are you, Renée Fleming?” he teased. “Reporters are calling me as well. When did you start seeing this guy?”

  “Well, uh—It’s pretty recent. It took me by surprise, too,” Emily stammered.

  “Must be. What would you like me to tell the press?”

  “I’m not sure what we should tell them yet.”

  “That’s not going to work.”

  She closed her eyes. She was developing a throbbing headache. She wondered if it was possible to have two headaches at once. “David, let’s discuss something else right now.”

  “Sure, Em. I’ll make a statement to the effect that you’re very happy, the wedding date is forthcoming, et cetera. The publicity’s already helping your career.” David sounded positively orgasmic about it all.

  “Not yet. Let’s hold off on that statement.”

  David let out a laugh. “Oh. I see—playing hard to get. How about ‘They’re just friends’? While you’re thinking, Emily, Santa Fe Opera called. They’re doing The Magic Flute. They’re offering Pamina. I think you’ll be happy with the compensation. Their lead soprano’s evidently got a scheduling conflict.”

  Brandon emerged from the kitchen with the coffeepot and an evil-looking gleam in his eye.

  Unbelievable. The Magic Flute, one of the most challenging pieces for sopranos ever, and in Santa Fe, an opera company famed for the quality of their productions. She felt like she was dreaming.

  “Oh . . . of course. Yes, yes, I’ll go. Thank you, David.”

  Emily said goodbye to David and hung up, dumbfounded.

  Brandon poured them both another cup of coffee, and picked up the cordless again. He dialed a number, listened to it ring a few times, and said, “Hey, dawg.” Whoever was at the other end sounded agitated. “I forgot my phone in my locker. Everything’s fine, but I won’t be in the weight room today or tomorrow.” He listened for a few moments more and said, “No. I’m taking care of a very argumentative woman for a couple of days.” Emily let out an exasperated sigh. “They what? Is that so? I’ll give him a call.” She saw his lips twitch into a smile. “Coach is happy about this? Thanks. I’ll send you an invitation.”

  “What?” she prompted.

  He shot her a playful grin. “Okay. I gotta go. I’ll call y’all later. Bye.” He hung up, still chuckling to himself over something.

  “‘A very argumentative woman.’” Emily said. “Oh, that’s rich. I can’t believe you would think—”

  “Sugar, darlin’, there’s something we need to talk about. Right now.”

  “I don’t think we’re talking about anything right now. I think—”

  He interrupted her again. “Listen. We’re going to have to deal with this.” He leaned over the table and grasped her hand. “I know what happened.” He leaned even closer. Emily shifted away from him, but he didn’t let go of her hand. “There was a whole crowd of people standing around that nurse’s station when I was signing autographs yesterday. Evidently, they couldn’t tell she was kidding about the whole ‘your fiancée is looking for you’ thing.”

  She shook her head. “It was a joke.”

  “You don’t understand,” he said patiently. “I’m—well, when stuff happens, it makes the papers, it makes the national media, and then I have to deal with it. My roommate Greg says it’s hit the national wires. My agent has been trying to call me, and the press has been calling my house trying to confirm the story since last night. What did your manager say to you?”

  “He said he wants to make a statement. He said people are calling that want to book me as a result.”

  Another broad smile spread over Brandon’s lips. He picked up his coffee cup, and took a swallow. In the meantime, an idea was beginning to dawn on her. He’d never go for it. She should just forget it—

  The phone rang again, and Emily snatched it up.

  “Hello?”

  “Emily.”

  She couldn’t believe she didn’t check the caller ID before she picked up. It was James, and she wasn’t in the mood. She was sure she wouldn’t be in the mood for the rest of her life.

  “Long time no talk. How are you doing?”

  “Fine,” Emily said.

  “I had to call and congratulate you on your engagement. This is wonderful news.” The coffee instantly turned into burning acid in her stomach. She was trembling. “I hope you and your fiancé will be very happy.”

  Brandon’s brows knit together as Emily rubbed her face with a shaking hand.

  “Thank you,” she managed to get out. “How is Heather?”

  “She’s great. We’re both very happy for you. We look forward to meeting—Brandon, isn’t it? A pro football player. That’s interesting.” His voice was mild, but
she felt the chill beneath it. Of course, he found it amazing that anyone would want Emily. He’d made that clear before.

  “Yes. Yes, it is. James, I have to go—”

  “I hope you’ll be able to let go of the bitterness and we can finally become friends, Emily. After all, it’s the adult thing to do. This was one of those things. Are you going to continue punishing both of us for it?”

  Emily gripped the coffee mug so hard it should have shattered. Sure. She couldn’t wait to be friends with a guy who slept with her former best friend and voice teacher. When he wasn’t doing that, he’d spread rumors about Emily’s being “difficult” during productions throughout the entire industry. He put a serious dent in her career as a result. Friends? If she never saw James again, it would be too soon.

  Brandon’s face turned into a thundercloud as he watched her shake like a leaf. Her stomach was churning, and she needed to get off the phone before she threw up.

  “Let’s talk about that later, James. Bye.” She hung up, tossed the phone down on the table, and hurried to the staircase leading to her room. She had to get dressed for rehearsals today, but even more, she needed to get somewhere she could be alone.

  “What happened, sugar?” Brandon called out to her. “Who was that?”

  Emily stopped at the top of the stairs, took a deep breath, and told herself to buck up. James was the only person who could get under her skin like this, and it was time it stopped. She couldn’t believe she was still allowing him free rent in her head. She was so vulnerable with him, and it was such a mistake. She couldn’t believe she was stupid enough to think he ever loved her at all. She couldn’t believe she spent one minute of her life caring what he thought.

  She wasted her last tear on him. She bit her lower lip, hard. All she needed was a couple of minutes to compose herself.

  Brandon’s heavy footsteps moved up the staircase. He waited till she turned to face him and said, “Who was that on the phone?”

  “Nobody.” The headache was now worse than ever. She needed to take a breath. More than that, she needed to cry, but she wasn’t doing that around anyone else.

  “Maybe you should tell me the truth.”

  “I’d prefer not to.”

  “Let me guess. Your ex-boyfriend.” Brandon’s eyes bored into hers. “Wanted to chat, huh?” He braced one hand against the wall over Emily’s head. “News travels fast.”

  His lips formed a bloodless line. She remembered a negotiation tactic she had heard many times before: The first to speak, loses. She swallowed hard. She stood up straight, threw her shoulders back, and tilted her chin a bit. He continued to watch her silently. She felt her chin quiver. She blinked rapidly in any attempt to hold back the tears blurring her vision.

  “He really did a number on you.” Brandon’s voice was soft, and he brushed another tear away with his thumb. She closed her eyes for a moment. “He’s not worth your tears.”

  She swallowed hard. “Thank you.”

  “Well, sugar, I know I’m hungry. Let’s get another cup of coffee.”

  Emily was doing everything in her power to pull herself together. He gave her a nod. He took her arm and led her down the stairs again.

  BRANDON COULDN’T FIGURE out what had happened. Her indignation over the news of a nonexistent engagement being announced on national TV was pretty comical. Directly after that, though, the seemingly confident, self-possessed Emily crumpled like a wet paper towel over a five-minute phone call from a guy that had to be one of the more stupid people walking the planet, in his opinion.

  She could be a handful. He wasn’t used to the women in his life arguing with him about anything. The more time he spent with her, though, the more intrigued he was. Obviously, she was beautiful. She had the kind of understated, bone-deep beauty that guys in his profession were quick to pass over in favor of women who paid good money for perfect faces and bodies. Emily wasn’t NFL cheerleader or Playmate of the Month material, but he’d have to be blind and dense to not enjoy the view. His mama didn’t raise stupid children, either. He’d wanted to meet someone like Emily for a while now. Even suffering the aftereffects of a concussion, she was smart, funny, and interesting. He appreciated the fact she didn’t collapse into helplessness and let him take care of everything. Plus, an idea had taken root that would help them both, and it was time to discuss it.

  “Let’s sit down for a few minutes,” he interrupted, and he tugged her over to the living room couch. He instinctively grabbed for the remote, and then dropped it on the couch cushion. “I take it you didn’t want to talk to him.”

  “No. No, I didn’t.” Emily shook her head, and flinched. Evidently, the headache was still there. “Now I’ll have to go back to all these people I work with and tell them I’m not engaged, that it’s not true, and I—I—”

  She turned her face away, but she wasn’t fast enough. He saw more tears splash off the hands she clenched together in her lap. He knew women who manipulated him and everyone else with their tears, but Emily wasn’t one of them. She was trying so hard to be brave. All he wanted to do was comfort her, but he knew she wouldn’t accept it at that moment.

  He took both her shoulders in his hands and gently turned her toward him. “Don’t cry. It’s all right. We’ll think of something.”

  “I’m not usually such a baby.” She started to rise from the couch; he caught her hand and pulled her back down.

  “Wait.” He studied her for a few moments. It was time to man up, although she was probably going to slap his face off. “I have an idea.”

  “Okay.” Her expression was cautious. Brandon hadn’t let go of Emily’s hand. He gave it an experimental squeeze.

  “Here’s the thing. Let’s stay engaged for a little while.”

  “We’re not really engaged in the first place.” Emily shook her head. “We can’t do that, can we?”

  “Of course, we can. It’s between you and me. This works for both of us. It’s positive publicity for everyone. The team’s happy with me, my ex-girlfriend will finally get the hint, and your ex-boyfriend will be jealous as hell. There’s no downside to this.” Okay, so far so good. She looked more shocked than angry. He hadn’t gotten away scot-free, though: Emily’s eyes were narrowing. Uh-oh.

  “The team would be happy about this? Why would they even care?”

  This ought to be fun, he told himself. He folded his lips and examined the ceiling for a moment. “It’s a public relations thing. I’m a bit of a hell raiser. Well, I was.” He resisted the impulse to squirm. “There’s no downside,” he repeated.

  “Just tell me the truth. You’re quite fond of that, aren’t you?” Evidently her mama hadn’t raised any stupid children, either. He took a deep breath.

  “I’m in the middle of contract negotiations—my agent is—and there was a little problem. This will fix it. Well, it’ll take the heat off.” He tried to look reassuring. “Again, there’s no downside for either of us.”

  “There is, too.” It seemed that Miss Emily had a redhead’s temper. “We don’t know each other.”

  “We can pull this off,” he insisted. “We’ll get to know each other. Let’s give it a month.”

  “What are we going to tell our families?”

  He shrugged one magnificent shoulder. “Tell them we’re engaged. They’ll be fine with it.”

  “It’s not going to work,” Emily insisted. “Won’t your family flip out? Mine will. They’ll never believe this. You think it’s okay to lie to everyone in both our lives?”

  Brandon pinned her with his eyes. “Maybe you should tell me what else David had to say when he called.”

  Emily shrugged her shoulders, and rubbed her face a little. “What do you mean? Oh. He said he’d had five booking calls already today, which is amazing, and I’m now singing a lead role at Santa Fe Opera as a result.”

  “You lied to him,” he pointed out. It wasn’t gentlemanly, but one had to take the opportunity when it presented itself.

  Her mouth dro
pped open, and her eyes flew wide. “I did not.” She was the picture of injured outrage, and it was all he could do not to laugh. At the same time, it was high time he established who was in charge here: Him.

  Brandon narrowed his eyes in response. “Hey, sugar, I saw your face light up when he called. You didn’t exactly set him straight about us.”

  “I—I—” she sputtered. He leaned toward her.

  “This works for both of us. You get what you want, I get what I want. No harm, no foul.” He stuck out his hand. “Will you agree to be engaged to me for thirty days?”

  He had a point. Emily knew he had a point. At the same time, there was one last little problem.

  “What happens if someone finds out this isn’t real?”

  “Hey. It’s not going to happen. Don’t be so negative.” She let out a snort, and he continued. “Plus, you get to hang around me for another month. Remember, there are lots of women who’d love to spend more time with me.”

  “Is your ego always this big, or only on days ending in ‘y’?” she teased.

  “I know you didn’t mean that,” he chided. He extended his hand once more. “Are you in?”

  All she had to do was pretend to be his fiancée for a month. Piece of cake. She put her hand inside of his.

  “Yes.”

  “Thirty days.”

  “Yes. Thirty days.” She gazed at him for a moment. He could practically see the wheels turning in her head. “What happens when the thirty days are up?”

  His smile was positively mischievous, and he still held her hand. “We go our separate ways. Again, no harm, no foul.”

  “Fine.” They shook hands, and he brought the back of Emily’s hand to his lips. He barely brushed her skin, and gave her a slow smile.

  “Now, go get dressed, because we have things to do today. I’ll even take you out to lunch.”

  He was right. She had to know he was right. It would work for both of them. How bad could it be, anyway?