by Nicole Snow
“It’s only a ninety-day contract. Better we dive right in and get accustomed to living together. I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot to ask. Again, you’ll barely see me. There’s ample living space.” My voice shouldn’t sound so ragged, so conflicted that we’ll have the promised space between us.
One part of my anatomy is anything but happy about it.
She picks up the check with one hand and taps it on her fingertips. “You’re paying me very well, so...I guess I can’t complain. I’ll pack my stuff.”
“It’s a lot to ask, no matter what the hell I’m paying. Truth be told, my family deeply appreciates this, Paige, and so do I.”
There.
With that out of my mouth, I’m done playing Nice Guy for the night.
She returns a buttery smile. “I just want your grandma to get her dream hotel. It’s not fair the way Winthrope judges you and Nick so harshly either. You guys work as hard as anyone else at Brandt Ideas. Harder, I suppose.” She stands. “That’s why you’re the Warden, keeping everybody else in line.”
I grin. She said “you.”
She mentioned Nick, too, but the compliment was directed at me.
I like that, and I shouldn’t.
But I do.
I wish I could say the same about the Warden crap. Who knew I’d actually miss the juvenile doodles on my morning coffee?
Paige stands and pushes the chair under the table.
“Ward—” Her voice is soft and she doesn’t finish the sentence.
“What?”
“Do you not have a car here?”
I shake my head. “No, Reese drove us here earlier. My ride’s back in Chicago, and even if I might seem like the kind of jagoff who’d collect fifty cars, I’m a practical man.”
She nods. “Oh.”
“What’s wrong?” I cock my head, leveling a glare.
She stares at the floor. “Do you think Reese could just take us to your car?”
From everything Reese has said, they like each other. They’re friends. What’s going on?
“Of course,” I say, waiting for more.
She doesn’t say anything, though, and keeps her eyes on her feet.
“Want to tell me why?”
She looks up and sways a little. “It’s just—weird. I’m trying to get used to this and it’s happening so fast.”
“You don’t want Reese around while we’re moving your stuff in,” I say, answering my own question.
She nods again.
“You know she’ll pick us both up in the morning, right?”
“That somehow seems better. No late-night walk of shame with you.” Paige blasts me with her smile again.
I laugh.
Her face gets red, flushed, taunting me with visions of what she’d look like under me.
“You never struck me as a prude,” I grind out, fighting back a smile.
“Oh, I’m definitely no prude.”
“I should know. You practically tried to seduce me the first night I saved your ass,” I say before I can stop the words.
“God. We’re never going to get past that, are we?” She scowls.
“Why would we? I love how red your face gets every time I mention it. When people ask for our story, I might just tell the truth about how we met.” Except maybe in the story I’ll do what I wish I had—kissed her like a summer storm and joined her in bed.
“Don’t you dare!” She gasps, her brows pulling together.
“The truth is usually easier to remember than a lie. I was at the art gallery, and a drunk girl—”
“Hey, remember when you said you knew it was only one glass of wine? Because I can’t drink like a sailor?”
“Fine—a girl who can’t handle her alcohol almost knocked me down trying to escape an overgrown worm, so I took her home and tucked her in with her twisted ankle...not knowing I’d see her in the office the next week. Sounds like a fairy tale.”
She crosses her arms.
“When you help a woman, you’re not supposed to mention it again. Try being a gentleman,” she warns.
I shrug.
“When that woman happens to be wearing my ring, the rules are different,” I whisper, something scorching my throat.
Her arms fall limp to her sides, but she marches up to me and kicks me in the shin. I barely feel it.
I look down, about to ask what the hell, but I don’t get the words out.
“I’m wearing your ring, so the rules are different, all right. How do you like them now?”
About as well as I like wondering what bear trap I’ve stepped in by getting fake-engaged to this very real wildcat.
Swiftly, I lean down and kiss her on the cheek, then straighten up immediately.
Wide emerald eyes stare up at me, her lips hanging open in a murderously kissable O it hurts not to claim.
“You’re wearing my ring, so I can do that, too,” I say matter-of-factly. “I’m clearly enjoying the new rules as well as you.”
“It’s going to be a long ninety days,” she whines.
“Dear girl, you have no idea,” I say.
13
Don’t Force It (Paige)
Standing in his kitchen, drawing handcuffs on a disposable coffee cup, I watch Ward round the corner. “Paige? Are you ready? It’s time to get going.”
“I’m in here!” I call.
He walks toward me in dark pants and a crisp white shirt with his blazer hanging over his arm. His stance, his shadow, that halo of a beard begging me to imagine what it’d feel like on my skin...
God.
For a flash, I wish this was real.
I hold out the coffee cup, trying not to smile.
He takes it from me. “I thought you negotiated coffee duty away?”
“Yeah, well, old habits die hard.” I pick up my purse and sling it over my shoulder.
“I should’ve known.” He grins when he sees my doodle. “Where’s yours?”
“You don’t have cream, but I don’t think I could keep anything down today.”
“Are you sick?”
“No. It’s just—the whole fake engagement thing. It’s going to be a long day.” My stomach lurches, and I swallow. The last thing I want to do is vomit nerves on my new fiancé.
“Long doesn’t have to mean bad,” he says with a nod.
I jerk my head around and stare at him.
“Um, do you hear yourself?”
“Spare me your 'that’s what she saids,'” he groans with a hint of a smile. “There’ll be no shortage of awkwardness for me too, but we’ll get through it. We’re in this together and there’s no going back.”
“You’re right.” I sigh.
I try not to notice he’s talking to me almost like we’re friends.
“I wish you’d eat something, though. It’s easy to miss meals in the commotion. You might pass out if you don’t,” he says.
“If I think I’m heading for a hanger-fit, I’ll eat.” But I’m a fake fiancée now, not just his assistant. “And you won’t say anything about when I’ve had my fill and want to leave, right?”
“Deal. Now let’s get moving.”
The town car waits at the curb. Ward opens the door and holds it, allowing me to climb in the car first before he slides in beside me.
“And you wanted to fire her!” Reese says.
My eyes trace from the hyperactive woman in the front seat to Ward beside me.
“Reese,” Ward clips.
From his tone, I know we’re talking about the incident at the museum again. I guess tales of my humiliation weren’t limited to Nick and his grandmother. Reese knows too.
Awesomesauce.
“Congratulations, you guys! Nick told me about your engagement,” she says.
Wait, what did Nick tell her? Does she know the truth? Why would she emphasize the word engagement? Oh, crud.
I catch Ward’s eyes, hoping for a hint at what to do.
He surprises me by stretching his arm out, pulling me close
r. I’m tucked under his shoulder, inhaling mint and grump.
I bite my lip and stare at my custom Sketchers—Ward still insists heels are a liability, so he picked them out—trying not to blush.
Yes, he’s brutally attractive and I admire the way he’s stepped up since Beatrice’s heart attack. I don’t want this situation getting any more awkward than it already is.
“Nick has a big mouth,” he says.
“Con-grat-ulations,” Reese chirps again, slowing each syllable.
“Thank you,” Ward says grudgingly.
I’m about to say “thanks” too when Reese asks, “Why are you so quiet? It’s because he’s here, isn’t it? Oh, Paige, you never struck me as timid. Kinda adorable.”
“Timid?” Ward scoffs. “Hardly.”
The wheels in my head are turning like they’re stuck.
If the short ride to the office is this bad, how do I get through the day?
“Look on the bright side.” Reese grins and her laughter fills the car. “Maybe you’ll soften up now that you’re getting laid, boss.”
Holy hell.
Heat pumps under my face. If Ward thought I was so red I turned purple yesterday, I must be a full ugly eggplant by now.
His grip around my waist firms. “Reese, don’t talk like that in front of my fiancée.”
“I was just—”
“I know. You’re one of the guys. But Paige isn’t, and she has to work with us, okay?”
Reese stares back in the mirror and nods.
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry.”
My stomach sinks. He handled it well, but Reese didn’t expect his reaction.
“It’s okay,” he growls. Those beach-kissed eyes connect with mine. “I told you I wouldn’t allow any idiotic comments. Promise kept. That’s the least I can do for you.”
My eyes drop from his eyes to his lips.
I wish I could kiss him.
For the briefest, scariest second, I contemplate what he’d do if I did.
What would happen if I played his fiancée, right down to the physical level? Would it be just like that night we met, where he told me to get lost? Or would he give me the force of a thousand suns like he did at the hospital?
“When’s the wedding?” Reese asks.
“Not sure yet,” I say. “We haven’t quite picked out a date.”
“Go easy on her, Reese. We just got engaged last night,” Ward says.
“Oh! Can I see the ring?” she asks.
Forcing a smile, I stretch my arm out and lean forward.
Ward’s arm stays hooked around my waist, and he pulls me back to the seat. “This would be safer after she’s parked.”
Reese lets out a whistle worthy of a lifeguard when she sees my rock.
“Marvelous! You outdid yourself, bossman.”
He did. Just not the way you think, lady, I think to myself.
“This is such a surprise. I see you both every day. I’m kinda pissed neither of you said anything,” Reese says. “Is it too much to give a girl a few details? Like, how did it happen this fast? Was it romantic? Did you cry, Paige?”
“Save it for another time,” Ward answers.
Then he pushes a button on the door and a privacy screen goes up between us and Reese.
“I forget the damn thing exists sometimes. Should’ve done it sooner,” he tells me.
I giggle and look up at him. “Was that really necessary? You had to know we’d be having these conversations today.”
“Yeah, but we’re having them on our terms. I’m not fielding an entire press conference with the driver.”
I nod because I get it.
This is barely an appetizer of the whirlwind to come. If I don’t pace myself, I’ll be dead from embarrassment ten times over before I ever get to enjoy my new riches.
Ten minutes later, we step out of the elevator together.
Nick is walking toward his office on the other side of the lobby.
He looks over his shoulder at us, grins, spins around, and closes the space between us. His mellow green eyes have a shine to them today that really stands out from Ward’s teal-blue.
“Have a good night, bro?” He punches Ward on the arm.
For a second, I pause, tuning them out.
I don’t have an enclosed office. I have a desk in an open space in the lobby.
Yeah, I’m not ready to have every random person on payroll stopping by and dying to know about our not-engagement until I have my bearings.
I grab my laptop from my desk.
“Hey, Ward, I’m working in your office today.”
He nods at me. “I’ll be there as soon as I kick Nick’s ass. Go ahead and send the email. We’ll have the all-staff meeting in twenty minutes. It won’t take me longer than that to pulverize my brother.”
Nick stays silent, an amused smirk pulling at his face.
I disappear into his office with a grin and a memo to set up.
Someone knocks at the office door a few minutes later.
I open it to find a woman I recognize, but can’t quite name from the quality assurance team.
“I think he’s in a meeting with Nick,” I say.
“Congratulations!” She grabs me and hugs me so tight it knocks my breath away.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“I had to stop by and give Ward my best. He needs you, lovely lady. I’ll catch up with him later.”
The elevator dings. A graphic designer with cat-eye glasses—Chelsea, I think—steps off of it before I can close the door and hide again.
“Paiiige!” she squeals, barreling toward me like a human cannonball.
I wave at her from the doorway. The quality assurance woman hasn’t left yet, and her lips turn up when she sees the designer.
So much for hiding.
She comes up to us. “Okay! Dish. You have to tell us how it happened.”
“I was wondering the same thing,” Miss Quality Assurance says. “It’s totally out of left field. None of us knew any fairy tales were happening around here. Was it the stress since Beatrice’s breakdown?”
“Oh, um, not at all. I’ve been crushing on Ward since we met.” Or at least crushing on his body since the weird night at the museum. “I wasn’t feeling well and he kind of took me under his wing, brought me water and Tylenol. And then when I was leaving, he chased some weird guy off who was trying to follow me. Total sweetheart.” It’s close enough to the truth, even if it comes out in a mess.
“But how’d the proposal go?” Chelsea the designer asks, stars in her eyes. “Was he sweet? Did he get down on one knee? Were there balloons?”
Quality assurance lady nods, rapt. “I can’t even imagine. I would die.”
And I think I did. Twice.
Once, when he slid that gorgeous ring I still can’t believe I’m wearing on, and looked at me like this wasn’t just for show.
And again, just now, when I realize I’m so freaking out of my element.
Relief floods me when Ward steps out of Nick’s office and walks toward us, opening the door with a surprised quirk of his lips. He’s at my side in seconds.
“Congratulations, Mr. Brandt!” QA woman calls as he rips me from her death grip.
Ward nods at her but doesn’t answer until he has us all safely contained behind his closed door. He looks at her.
“Thank you, Janice. Most of the company doesn’t know about this yet, so I’m going to have to ask you ladies not to say anything until after the meeting in five minutes.”
“Huh? It’s already on Twitter,” Chelsea says, adjusting her cat-eye spectacles.
I gasp. “Twitter?”
Ward shakes his head, visibly gritting his teeth.
“My dumbass brother knew we had an announcement today, but he chatted up this blogger at a club last night and gave her some sob story about how bad he needs a date to get through his brother’s wedding. He didn’t know she works for Osprey and the Tea. We’re going to clear the air. The meeting’s in five m
inutes, so it wouldn’t be a bad idea to head over.”
“Of course! Can’t wait to hear the deets,” Chelsea chirps, backing away.
“No problem, Mr. Brandt.” The QA woman follows the other woman out the door.
I move to the open door and close it, shoving my back against it like there’s a hoard of zombies waiting to break through.
“But...there isn’t going to be a wedding,” I croak.
Ward shakes his head. “I know. It’s just his new pickup line, and he thought having some organic press wasn’t a bad idea. Shame he didn’t check the woman’s media credentials.”
I cock my head, still leaning against the door.
So far, this has been a nightmare and a half.
I can feel my resolve withering. A chill sweeps up my back, imagining everything I might have to do to earn this money.
“I’m not sure I’ll survive today,” I whimper.
“Suck it up. We’ll get through this and never have to see each other again,” he says as we walk to the conference room.
“Oh, that’s so reassuring. I’m keeping the ring,” I say.
“Of course. It was a gift. Relax,” he says, bathing me in that easy, deep laugh that says maybe this insanity won’t be my end.
“When you contort your face into something that could be mistaken for a smile, you’re not so bad, you know,” I say.
Ward shakes his head like he’s lost all hope in me.
In the conference room, Nick sits near the center of the table with two empty chairs beside him.
Ward stands behind the seat closest to Nick, and I take the one beside him. I open my laptop to start recording notes.
“I know we’ve had monumental changes around here recently when my grandmother retired. We’ve tried to make the transitions as seamless as possible, but Beatrice Brandt isn’t replaceable, so I know it hasn’t been smooth sailing. We’re here today because I have another change to announce. However, I don’t think it will affect your work in any way. I just want to be transparent per company rules. Miss Holly and I are—” He looks down at me. “Stand up, darling.”
Darling? Coming out of his mouth, it sounds like a foreign word.
I stand, knees shaking, plastering on a porcelain smile.
“We’re getting married,” he finishes.