Twisted Arrangement 3

by Mora Early

  She actually stomped her foot. If he hadn’t been so astonished by her outburst, Josh might have found it adorable. This was a new side of her. Not the timid moth or the brash Butterfly. Was this the real Emma Ness?

  “Can you take a leave of absence? Don’t worry about the bills. I’ll have Martin set you up an account. But I really need your focus here, on keeping Ransler happy as a lark. Or a clam. Whichever one gives better performances.” He smiled. She didn’t return it.

  “Clarice might go along with that, especially if...” She groaned. “Oh.”

  Josh inclined his head. “What?”

  “She’s going to want to do the wedding.” Emma pressed fingertips to her temples and began rubbing circles.

  He supposed it stood to reason that her boss, the CEO of a party planning business, would want to plan the wedding of her topmost employee. “But who’s she going to delegate all the work to? You’ll be busy getting married.”

  Emma actually giggled. Then she stopped abruptly and went pale. Josh made to rise from his chair, but she waved him off. “I’m fine. It’s just... My parents are dead. But what about your parents? Are you going to tell them it’s all fake?”

  He hadn’t considered that. At all. Hell, he was amazed he hadn’t gotten a call from his mother already. She followed the tabloids and gossip rags. His stomach gave a nervous flip.

  “Uh.” He coughed, clearing his throat of the sudden lump there. “No. No, we have to make it absolutely believable, which means as few people as possible are going to know the truth. I assume you’re going to tell Todd, if you haven’t already, and Ben and Magnus know because they’re the ones who figured out who you were. But that’s it.”

  “Josh, your parents! I don’t know if I can pull this off. Fooling Ransler is one thing. He doesn’t know you all that well. But... what will they think in four months?” She plucked at the hem of her skirt, tugging at a loose thread. Had it been loose when she came in?

  If she didn’t leave it be, she’d unravel the whole skirt. Not that Josh would mind. He pictured Emma, naked, splayed on his desk. His cock twitched with interest. He swallowed, shifting to adjust his suddenly too tight slacks.

  “Let me worry about that. You worry about getting that leave of absence from work. Promise Clarice the wedding, if that’s what it takes. She has two weeks, and a location near Saint Helena. Other than that, tell her to spare no expense. That’s what people will expect.”

  Emma bit her lip. “Josh...” Her voice trailed off. Josh leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the desk.

  “Yes?” His stomach did a slow roll. The way she’d said his name just then held a wealth of meaning, none of which he could unravel. He almost held his breath waiting for her next words.

  “Can I get all that in writing?”

  His shoulders slumped. That had not been what she’d originally intended to say, and Josh couldn’t help the disappointment that burned in his veins. “I’ll have Ben draw something up. It might not be strictly legal, but it’s the best I can offer.”

  “That’s fine.” She rose to her feet, wavering slightly, like a sapling in a strong breeze. Her hands clenched and unclenched at her side. “There’s one more thing.”

  “Oh?” Her stipulation. He was intensely interested in finding out what it was.

  “I want you to give Todd a job. On the film. Something hands-on and intense. I think it’ll be good for him.” Her chin lifted so high as she said this that he could barely see her eyes anymore. Josh leaned back, forcing her to relax slightly to meet his gaze. He tapped his fingers on the desk.

  He’d always wanted siblings, growing up. But his mother was unable to have any more children after he was born. Seeing Emma’s fierce loyalty to her brother, even in the face of the kid’s constant screw-ups, brought back that nostalgia full force. He blew out a long breath.

  “Fine. But he’s starting at the bottom, as a PA. He’ll get paid, but not much, and he’ll work like hell. I expect him to do his job. If he doesn’t, he’ll get fired just like anyone else. No special treatment because he’s your brother.”

  She sniffed. “You should read that information Ben dug up on us a little closer, Josh. If you had, you’d know Todd’s never been fired from a job in his life. Not once, since he was 17 and got his first after-school gig at the Copy Hut.”

  Josh frowned. It was true, he’d assumed her brother’s job-hopping had been a result of being fired for one reason or another. Did Todd Ness just get bored and move on that quickly? That seemed like a pretty unstable existence. But then, the kid always had Emma. She was his stability. Josh curtailed his wayward thoughts. “Then we shouldn’t have a problem.”

  She gave him a curt nod. “Exactly.” Her eyes drifted toward the door. “I... should go. I need to get to work and deal with Clarice.” Her lips pursed in her librarian pout. Heat curled in Josh’s groin. He cleared his throat, dropping his gaze to the stack of messages.

  “That’s fine. I’ll get Ben on the paperwork right away. Call me if anything comes up.” If she didn’t leave soon he was going to pin her against that door the way he’d done at the ball. And her prickly demeanor said that probably wasn’t a good idea just now.

  He sifted through the messages. They were probably going to have to do at least one of these interviews, or the press would never leave them alone. But he’d hold onto that for a day or two, give Emma time to adjust to the idea before putting on her first real performance. She had already turned the knob when he caught sight of the small black box beneath the stack of paper. He fished it out, the smile returning to his face.

  “Oh! Emma?”

  Emma turned back, brows furrowed. “What?”

  He tossed her the box. She caught it deftly, eyes widening as she realized what it was. Josh couldn’t help but chuckle as her lips trembled and her hands shook. “Don’t forget your ring.”

  Chapter 2 ~ Owens’ Leading Lady

  Emma stared down at the glittering stone on her fourth finger. She couldn’t quite decide how she felt at this moment. The whirlwind of emotion that had begun spinning in her belly the moment Josh had revealed he knew who she was had yet to stop. She was angry and frightened and amused and awed.

  The awe was mostly because of the ring. She should have known Josh Owens would go all out, even for a fake engagement. The stones – there were several flanking the main princess-cut gem and trailing down either side of the band – had to add up to at least three carats. She prayed they were cubic zirconia and not diamond, or else the band on her finger was worth at least ten thousand dollars. The very thought made the breath freeze in her lungs.

  Given the brilliance of the gems, she had a sinking suspicion they were real. And the band was either platinum or white gold. What was ten thousand dollars to Josh Owens, though? To Emma, it could pay her rent for almost a year. Or buy her a new used car. To him, it was probably pocket change. She touched the ring again with light fingertips.

  She’d done that at least ten times since she’d left Josh’s house, but she had to keep assuring herself it was there. Really there. Because everything just felt so surreal at the moment. It had ever since she’d looked out at the sea of reporters at the luncheon yesterday and realized what Josh had done.

  “Emma!” Clarice tapped at her car window, smiling a sly grin. She lifted the glossy Sun Star and waved it like a flag. On the cover was a picture of Josh and Emma kissing. Well, Josh kissing Emma. He’d barely brushed her mouth before he’d disappeared from the luncheon yesterday, but of course some photographer had caught the brief moment on film.

  It looked much more romantic than it had felt at the time. He’d grabbed her head, touched his mouth to hers, and vanished. But frozen in the second, Josh’s palms cupped her cheeks and the corners of his eyes crinkled with a smile. Her hands had flown up to his arms in shock, but in the photo it appeared like she was getting ready to pull him closer. Their mouths were a hair’s breadth apart. Emma’s lips were parted.

  OWEN
S’ LEADING LADY! the headline screamed. And then, listed in bright yellow bullet points beneath the picture: Who is she? How’d she nab him? When’s the big day? We have all the answers!

  Emma doubted it. Even she didn’t have all those answers, and she was the ‘lady’ in question. She slid her keys from the ignition and unlocked her car door, taking a deep breath. This was it. She’d agreed to do this, and if she was going to do it, it would have to start now. Clarice stepped back to let her out of the car.

  “Clarice, I hope you’re not mad.” She smiled sheepishly. “I wanted to tell you, but...”

  The older woman swept her into a tight embrace, squeezing her hard. “You think I’m mad? I’m thrilled! You know, I suspected there was something going on between you two.”

  “Y-you did?” Emma hung limply in Clarice’s embrace, gaping at the usually professional woman’s effusiveness. “Why?” When Clarice’s silver brows rose, Emma hurried on. “I mean, what gave us away?”

  Clarice tucked her arm through Emma’s and tugged her toward the office’s front door. “Oh, little things here and there. When I heard how he raved about you at the ball, I figured something was up. Then he waited a week for his post event follow-up just so he could see you. And the way you two look at each other! Well, it was pretty obvious.” She patted Emma’s hand. “You’re not very subtle, dear.”

  “Oh. Um. I guess not.” Emma didn’t know what else to say. Especially considering there really wasn’t anything going on between her and Josh, other than a business arrangement. Just a business arrangement. He was hiring her for her acting skills. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself. She took a deep breath. “Actually, Clarice, I’m glad you’re the first person I’m seeing, because... I need to talk to you about something.”

  Clarice sailed through reception, dragging Emma in her wake. “I’m all ears.”

  “Congratulations, Emma!” the receptionist called after them. Emma gave her a distracted wave. She clutched her purse strap tightly in one hand.

  “See, um, Josh wants to have the wedding soon. Very soon. And then, well, he’s going to be filming, you see? Working on this new project. A-and...” Emma forced herself to stop and take a deep breath. She sounded like a girl asking her parent’s permission to go to a school dance with a boy. She was a grown woman. She straightened her shoulders. “And he wants me there with him. So I’m going to need to take a leave of absence from work. Just for a few months!” She added this last, hoping to forestall arguments from Clarice.

  They’d reached the CEO’s office. Clarice pushed open the doors and shooed Emma toward one of the plush visitors chairs. Emma sank into it gratefully, smoothing down her skirt. The silver-haired older woman paced back and forth in front of the mahogany bookshelf behind her desk. She tapped one long, boney finger on her chin. Emma waited for her to say something, but several minutes passed in silence.

  “Clarice? Did you hear me? I’m going to need a couple of months, maybe four–”

  “I heard you,” Clarice interrupted. She stopped abruptly and her hand darted out, pulling a book off the shelf. Once she had it in her hand, she folded herself into her chair and set it on the desk. “Of course you’ll want some time with your new husband. Especially one as handsome as Joshua Owens.” Emma flushed, heat creeping up her throat to her cheeks as Clarice continued, flipping through the pages of the book. “I don’t think it’ll be a problem to hold your position for a couple of months. You’re an asset, Emma. Ah, here it is!”

  Clarice spun the book around and shoved it at Emma. Emma blinked at the page for several seconds before the shapes resolved themselves into an image. An image of a woman in a wedding gown, to be precise. “It’s lovely.”

  The dress was beautiful, with a classic silhouette and about a yard of skirt, what was commonly called a cathedral train. The smooth, heavy satin was a creamy ivory. A swirled appliqué of seed pearls wound around the mode’s slender torso, just beneath her breasts. It was sleeveless, with a high square neck. Very demure, and yet somehow lush and sexy at the same time.

  Emma had never really been the type to plan her dream wedding, growing up. Or rather, she had, but just like the dreams about how her parents would turn out to really be alive, she’d stuffed the ideas firmly away when she got older.

  Looking at this dress made all those girlhood fantasies rush back. Her breath snagged in her throat. “Very lovely.” She touched gentle fingers to the picture.

  “That’s what you’ll wear. It will look fabulous on you. I’m thinking Hollywood cerise for the bridesmaids. Only two. And maybe a flower girl. Have you picked the venue yet?” Clarice was taking frantic notes on a piece of paper. Emma didn’t think she’d ever seen the older woman so animated.

  “Oh, yes. Josh said there’s a church near Saint Helena.”

  Clarice snapped. “I know it. Nice choice. Stone, beautiful rose window.” She drew ‘beautiful’ out into extra syllables. “You said soon. How soon?”

  “Two weeks?” Emma chewed her lip. “I don’t know if we can really pull this all off. We have to get out invitations. And the dress...”

  The older woman waved her off. “Nonsense. You make a general announcement in the media that it’ll be in two weeks and everyone will be clearing their schedule. No worries there. This is going to be the wedding of the year, Emma.” Emma’s stomach did a slow turn. Her ears rang. Clarice quirked a brow. “You going to answer that?”

  Emma blinked and glanced down at her purse. Her cell phone rang again. She chuckled weakly as she lifted it to her ear. She didn’t even have to look at the display. “Hi... honey.” The words felt blocky on her lips.

  “Admirable attempt, Miss Ness.” Josh’s chuckle was much more hearty than hers. “I take it you’ve got company?”

  She flicked a quick glance at Clarice, but the CEO was flipping through pages of the style book. “You’re so clever, darling. That’s what I love about you.” Her stomach churned and twisted. Her body hummed, as if she’d had too much caffeine.

  Josh sputtered. “That’s laying it on a bit thick, Emma. Are things going well with the illustrious Ms. Davenport?”

  “She’s agreed to the time off, if that’s what you’re asking. We’re discussing invitations and color schemes at the moment.” Emma gritted her teeth in an effort to keep the smile on her face. What she really wanted to do was bend over and put her head between her knees. That’s what you did for dizziness, right?

  Clarice pointed her pen at Emma without looking up. “Tell that handsome devil I want to see him in here tomorrow at... say, 11:30?”

  “Oh,” Emma covered the receiver with her fingers. “I’m sure Josh doesn’t want to be a part of any–”

  “Tell her I’ll be there,” he interrupted. “You only get fake married once, right?” He snorted.

  “I sure hope so,” Emma grumbled. “I mean, are you sure? Sweetie?” She tacked the last bit on when Clarice gave her a raised brow. The older woman’s shrewd gaze was making her squirm. As if any minute Clarice would go ‘Aha! You’re faking it!’

  On the other end of the line, she heard Josh speaking to Martin, but the words were too muffled for her to make out. “I’m sure,” he replied, back on the line. “But I need you to do me a favor too. Pumpkin.”

  He sounded like he was having fun. She could almost see those full lips twitching, the dimple in his cheek flashing briefly. Emma made a mental note to kick him in the shin later.

  “Another one, dumpling? I’m running low.” Her fingers clenched tightly around her phone. She upgraded the kick to a boot in the ass.

  “We need to do an interview. Are you busy tonight? We can do it over dinner.” Emma heard the smile this time. “Snookums.” Josh clacked away at computer keys. She pictured him sitting at his desk in his office, dealing with emails, the wavy blond of his hair mussed from where he ran his hand through it whenever he contemplated something.

  She couldn’t help the smile that tugged her lips upward. Both the mental image an
d the use of the term ‘snookums’ got her. Who said ‘snookums’?

  “Fine.” She sighed. “But make it Mia Miyamoto. She’s not only the best local reporter, but she’s likely to be more sensitive than anyone else.”

  “Agreed. I’ll see you tonight. Around 7:30?”

  Emma heard Martin in the background again, probably getting Mia on the line. “That’s fine. I’ll see you then, shmoopy.” She hung up on Josh’s laughter. For the moment, at least, the whirl of anxiety in her belly slowed. She tucked her cell phone away and turned her attention back to Clarice.

  “Now, where were we? I think we’ll have the reception at the house...”

  ***

  Josh’s eyes followed the pale curve of Emma’s neck as she angled her head. Her slender fingers tugged at the small silver drop of her earring.

  “I’m going to kill you.”

  It was a little disconcerting, considering she was smiling at him. Her right hand rested flat on the white linen tablecloth between them, too close to the steak knife for his liking. Maybe he should have set the interview up in a burger joint instead of the most upscale Italian restaurant in Napa. Too many sharp objects within close reach here. He reached out and covered her hand with his. For safety’s sake. He wasn’t sure if the sparkle in her green eyes was genuine ill will or not.

  Beneath his hand, her skin was soft and warm. He squeezed lightly, feeling the delicate bones under his fingers. “What did I do this time? I said dinner.”

  “I didn’t realize you meant out. In public.” Emma hissed the last word, darting a quick glance to the alcove where Mia Miyamoto stood with her cell phone pressed to her ear. The reporter was too far away to overhear them.

  A pink flush spread across the upper curve of Emma’s cheekbones and the bridge of her nose. She had a smattering of pale freckles there. He didn’t remember ever having noticed that before. “I thought you’d be more comfortable here, honestly. If we ate at the house, I figured you’d be constantly worried about the staff’s reaction.”