by T Gephart
“I’m not going to PR you some girl, I’m not a freaking pimp.” I shook my head. Any doubt that I earned every cent of my salary was just blown away by the fact I even had to make that statement.
“I never said hooker, although if you knew a decent one, I guess that would be OK. But, what I meant was like a regular girl. Don’t you have friends? Just as long as she’s pretty, I have a reputation to uphold.” He spoke with the same detachment that he would while ordering a pizza.
I leapt out of my chair and pushed away from my desk. The air rushed out of my lungs as my hands reached out in front of me.
“Easy Lex.” Troy grabbed me as I lunged for Dan. “Take a breath, he’s an idiot, but he’s harmless.” Troy wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me off the floor. He kept me firmly against his body so Dan was slightly out of my grasp. “That’s it, nice deep breaths,” he whispered in my ear before turning to Dan. “Dude, do me a favor and stop talking.”
“Put me down Troy.” I wiggled furiously in his arms. Damn, he was strong. I could feel his arms flex under my struggle yet he showed no signs of discomfort.
“Are you going to hit anyone? ‘Cause I think I’m bound by the Good Samaritan act to stop any unnecessary violence.” He laughed as he contained me in a bear hug.
“I’m not going to hit anyone. Put me down.” I demanded, my legs swinging wildly in the air.
“OK, here we go. Nice and easy.” He gently released his grip as he slowly lowered my feet to the floor. “Everyone going to stay calm?”
“Yes, Yes. I’m calm.” I assured him as he removed his hands tentatively from my waist.
“So, where do we stand then?” Dan asked, oblivious to the fact that he had been inches away from a black eye. No really, I would have hit him.
“Do we need to go through this all again Dan?” I silently counted to ten, trying to keep a lid on my anger. One, Two, Three… Expletive, expletive, expletive.
“No, I know you said you wouldn’t go with me, but I still need a date.”
“Look, Dan’s gone about it the complete wrong way, but he is right, he can’t go to this wedding alone,” Troy interceded. I wasn’t sure if it was to aid Dan’s case or save him from having to come between Dan and any more of my potential murderous outbursts.
“Finally, you’re playing wingman. Thank freaking Christ.” Dan threw his hands up in the air in relief.
“Dude, seriously. Shut up. You ain’t helping your cause right now.” Troy smacked Dan across the back of the head.
“What’s the big deal, just ignore your family or tell them you aren’t interested.” I smoothed out my dress, before leaning up against my desk.
“You can say that ‘cause you’ve never met my family. They are relentless. I show up without a date and they are going to be screening every single girl from Jersey to Connecticut for potential wife material. It’s easier for everyone involved if I just show up taken.” He raked his hands through his hair. He seemed desperate.
Putting aside the fact that it was Dan, I guess I should be thankful he decided to come to me rather than someone else. Previously working in events and public relations I had received some odd requests, usually from prima donna clients who wanted you to jump through hoops, but I guess a date wasn’t such a big deal. Hang on a sec, I couldn’t believe I was actually considering this. Who would I even ask and how could I unwittingly unleash Dan on them? Granted it was a family wedding so I doubted he could get into too much trouble, but still, it was risky.
“All right,” I agreed, already regretting my decision to help him.
“You’re going to go with me?” Dan asked, his eyes brimming with hope.
“No, not me.” I shook my head. There was no way I was going on a date with him, no matter what the understanding was, the answer was still no.
“I’ll find someone suitable on the condition you act like a freaking gentleman, and don’t try and get into her panties.” Could I really trust Dan? I would have to think long and hard about who I would task with this ridiculous assignment.
“Hey I’ll act like a gentleman, but if she wants to let me into her panties, I ain’t saying no.” In true Dan style, he believed that all girls would eventually succumb to his charms and in truth, they usually did.
“Dan, if I’m putting my arse on the line for you then you better play this straight. Do not try me, your buddy Troy might not be around to stop me next time,” I warned, still unsure I wasn’t making the biggest mistake of my life.
“I’ll be good. I promise.” He winked as he moved out of his seat. “Just make sure she’s pretty.”
“Get out of here before I change my mind.” I could feel a migraine forming in my frontal lobe.
“Bye Lexi, call me later with the details and thanks.” He waved as he made his way to the door.
Troy hugged me quickly before making his exit. “Bye Lex, hope you enjoy the rest of your day.” His smile lingered as he pushed Dan out the door.
“Bye.” I sighed as I watched them both leave, absorbing the moment before reaching into my drawer and grabbing my phone. There was only one person I could trust with this. Someone who was sassy, intelligent and who wouldn’t take Dan’s shit. She also coincidently met the only criteria he had - she was stunning. I dialed her number and waited for her to answer, this was going to be the mother of all favours.
Chapter 10
Coffee and The Pitch
“ALRIGHTY THEN, what’s so important that you have to drag me to this god-awful coffee shop.” Sydney collapsed into the chair opposite me. Her slender frame was wrapped in the latest Italian design as usual, but she looked different. Her short blonde graduated bob had been lightened, making her piercing blue eyes sparkle behind the dark rims of her angular glasses. Her effervescence overflowed, as did her oversized handbag as it came crashing down nosily onto the table.
“I thought you liked coffee? Don’t tell me you’ve given it up?” I smiled. Oh how I’d missed Sydney. She was one in a million.
“Is the Pope bloomin’ Catholic? Of course I’m still drinking coffee, but this place is bloody terrible.” She grimaced as the tall latte I’d ordered on her behalf was placed on the table. She seemed unconcerned that her declaration had offended the waitress who slunk away in horror.
“This place comes highly recommended.” I sipped tentatively at my hot chocolate. Yuck. Sydney was right, this place was terrible. I don’t know how you can screw up a hot chocolate, but what was in my cup could only be described as hot mud with frothy milk.
“Horrible.” She licked the foam from the top of her coffee. “Whoever recommended it was trying to kill you. I suggest you add them to your hit list.”
“You don’t have to drink it.” I placed my cup back on the table resigned to the fact that it wasn’t fit for human consumption.
“It’s still coffee Lexi. And even the worst coffee is still better than none. Plus I’ve got a feeling I’m going to need it.” She winked as she took another gulp of the swill that was masquerading as a latte.
“So… are you seeing anyone?” I asked as I casually stirred my hot chocolate. I knew I should have probably eased into the conversation, but having never set anyone up, I wasn’t sure on protocol.
“You taking a survey? Since when have the romps between my sheets been worthy of a midday appointment?” She arched her brow, nothing was getting by her, and she knew my question was more than just conversation.
“So no boyfriend I take it.” I pushed a little further. There was no way I would subject her to a Dan date if she was in a relationship. No matter how desperate he was.
“Nothing steady, but I’ve got a few fellas on the bench.” She stretched her neck side to side as if she were limbering up. I’m guessing the lack of relationship didn’t mean lack of company. Not that I was surprised, she was gorgeous and guys fell over themselves when they heard her accent.
“Feel like dating someone who has graduated from high school for a change?” Sydney did have a
tendency to date younger guys. It had never been my thing, as I actually preferred they had stopped playing with Legos and moved out of home. Dan was slightly above the age pool Sydney liked to dip her toe into.
“The last guy was in college, not high school, thank you very much,” she corrected me, not taking my dig about her dating younger guys personally. Similarly to the way the band would call each other douchebags, we considered our volley of mockery akin to terms of endearment.
“Still, might be interesting to go out with someone who is more established. Isn’t variety supposed to be the spice of life?” I started to grasp at straws. How does one sell a date with Dan?
“If you are quoting fortune cookies, I know we’re in trouble. Who is he and what’s wrong with him?” She lowered her coffee cup down into the table front of her and pursed her lips with distaste. Whether it was the coffee or the topic of conversation, I couldn’t be sure.
“Why do you assume there is something wrong with him? He’s actually exceptionally good looking, has an amazing body and is highly successful. If I were single…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. In truth Dan was actually all of those things, but no matter how single I had been, I could never have dated Dan. There was a fine line between creative marketing and out-and-out lying.
“So what’s the catch? Does he have a strange exotic disease? Small penis? Why does he have the famous Lexi Reed shopping around for a date for him?” She questioned, knowing there had to be a reason someone so eligible was still on the market.
“No catch and by all account his penis… oh hell, I can’t talk about his penis, even in abstract. It’s Dan. Dan needs a date.” I figured honesty was the best policy, she was going to find sooner or later.
“Dan? Dan Evans, Power Station Dan?” She scrunched her brow as she sought clarification. Yep, unfortunately it was Dan freaking Evans.
“Yes, the very same. I’m sorry Syd, I wouldn’t even be asking, but he was having a nervous breakdown in my office.”
“Did he suddenly become agoraphobic? Isn’t he out every other night with a different bird? How does Dan Evans not have a date?” She had worked with Dan, therefore she knew of his reputation. What he lacked in style he made up for in charisma and could charm the pants off, literally, most girls he encountered.
“It’s some family thing, I don’t really understand it, but he can’t go by himself or his family will try and marry him off.” I regurgitated Dan’s rationalisation for the date for hire. “And he doesn’t want to bring a random ’cause meeting the family would lead her to believe…”
“That they are going to be picking out china patterns.” She completed my sentence.
“Exactly. He was so desperate he asked me to go with him.” I was still reeling in disbelief that he would even consider that an option.
“Still trying to get into your knickers, some things never change with Dan.” Her giggle peppered the air. Not that I needed a reminder of Dan’s less than subtle past attempts to bed me.
“So will you consider it? I know it’s a big ask, but he promised me he’d be on his best behaviour and you guys already know each other.” Who was I kidding? Sydney was my first and last choice. There is no way I could ask anyone else. She said no, and I probably would be hiring a hooker.
“Sure, why the hell not. At least he’s not bad to look at, granted he’s a bit lacking when it comes to the upstairs department, but as long as he doesn’t talk too much we should be fine.” She shrugged, agreeing with no need for further convincing or argument. I could have kissed her, but given the last time I’d kissed someone in public it had been all over the Internet, I thought I’d better keep my enamored expressions under wraps. Fairly sure that me involved in some girl-on-girl action would not so easily be quelled by the I-was-just-having-a-private-moment-and-it-was-caught-out-of-context line I was giving them for the other photos.
“Thanks Syd, I owe you.” I grabbed her hand and gave it a little squeeze.
“Yeah you do, and the first thing you owe me is a decent cup of coffee.” She moved her half emptied cup to the side. I guess even bad coffee had its limits.
“Next time I’ll let you pick the place,” I offered, happily willing to buy her coffee for a year for agreeing to do this and knowing I was pushing the boundaries of our friendship for asking.
“Brilliant. Now get Power Station Dan to give me a call like a proper date and we’ll work on the particulars.”
“I’ll call him when I get back to the office.” I wanted to put off that call for as long as possible.
“So onto important things, how’s the Viking doing?” Viking had been her nickname for Alex, a throw back to his Nordic heritage. “I saw your lovely happy snaps, nice wig but the Versace was a dead giveaway.” She flicked her hair out of her eyes, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
“You guessed it was me?” My face was barely visible in those photos. I’m not sure how anyone who didn’t have an intimate knowledge of my body—sadly there had been a lot on display—would have known it was me.
“Of course I knew it was you. You were going at it like a dog in heat. Who else could it have been? Besides if the designer threads weren’t enough to tip me off, the way he was looking at you sealed it. No man looks at a one night stand like that, not even one as talented as you.” Despite Sydney’s colourful summation, she was right. It still gave me goose bumps when Alex looked at me as if I was his world. The fact that no one else had seen that is what should have been surprising.
“Awww look at you with your back handed compliments. It’s just like old times. I’ve got to say, I miss you around the office.” I really did miss her and I was going to make a conscious effort to spend more time with her. We had worked well together, but most of all she had made me laugh. Her British humour, while not as easily digested by Americans, was a welcome distraction to my day.
“Don’t you have the Cowboy and your Aussie girl working for you?” I don’t think Sydney called anyone by their actual names. It was one of her adorable quirks.
“Yeah, but things have gotten strange. I guess the honeymoon is over and working and living together might not be all it’s cracked up to be.” I tried to cast my mind back to when things started getting weird between them. My return to the work place seemed to be the catalyst.
“It happens, still it’s working out for you.”
“It’s different for us. While we work together, we aren’t together every single minute of every day.” I loved Alex, but I was glad to still have my own space. Things worked between us because I was still able to be me and he supported that.
“True, good thing too or you’d never get any work done. Have you got any plans for his birthday?” She forgot she had disregarded her latte and took another sip. “Oh please take this thing away from me before I drink anymore.”
“His birthday? OH SHIT.” How could I have forgotten Alex’s birthday? And the worst wife of year award goes to… Lexi Stone, who’s too preoccupied with her own shit to remember it’s her amazing, wonderful husband’s birthday next week. Not to mention she had lusted after him for years and would have always had a cheeky cupcake in celebration every year on his birthday in a move straight out of the stalker’s handbook.
“Lexi, please tell me you didn’t forget Alex’s birthday is next week.” She looked horrified.
The waitress who had been previously wounded by Sydney’s earlier categorization of ‘this place is terrible’—which we now knew to be accurate—cleared our abandoned attempts at finishing our drinks.
“No, no. I didn’t forget. It just slipped my mind. I’ve been so busy with the tour and the press, I hadn’t even looked that far ahead on my planner.” I would have remembered, maybe not today, but I had faith that my brain had not completely lost its edge. Mental note—I need to utilise the reminders function on my iPhone. A cute little ping a couple of weeks before would be most appreciated. Let’s chalk it up to a learning curve and be thankful it’s not the day before.
&n
bsp; “Well you better plan something, and it better be epic. Tell me, what do you get the man who has everything?”
“You trying to give me a panic attack, let me plan the party and then I’ll worry about the gift.” What do I get Alex for his birthday? The typical present suggestions were pretty much redundant when your husband was a millionaire celebrity.
“As long as I get an invite. Considering I missed the wedding, it’s the least you can do.”
“Sydney, everyone missed our wedding, that’s what happens when you elope.” I still had to apologise for our lack of guest list, even months after the fact. I didn’t regret our spur of the moment romantic gesture, but it saddened me that we weren’t able to share it with a few more people. Especially Alex’s family.
“Yeah well, you’re here for his birthday so you’ve got no excuse,” she pointed out.
Wait a minute. Everyone would be here, well mostly anyway. I could contact Emma and Jackson and get them to fly up. Kate would too, if she could wrangle it. Sure a week wasn’t a lot of time, but I knew I could make it work. Under the guise of Alex’s birthday we could renew our vows, an encore performance. Allow our friends and family to share it with us this time. We didn’t even have to tell them, not wanting them to feel obligated to dress up or buy presents. I wouldn’t even tell Alex, it could be a complete surprise.
“Actually you are right… we are here and that is a perfect idea.”
“Of course it’s perfect, I thought of it.” I could see the cogs in her head turn as she mentally analysed our lack of conversation and tried to decipher which idea I was crediting her with. “What exactly is the brilliant idea we are talking about?”
“Alex’s birthday. What if we turned it into a surprise wedding? I’m going to throw a party so no one will be suspicious. They’ll just think it’s a birthday party. But what if we got all our friends and family and then boom, we renew our vows?” I shared my brilliant plan sparked by her suggestion. Sometimes I forgot that not everyone was privy to my internal, silent conversations. Technically it wasn’t always a bad thing as at least fifty percent of those conversations weren’t fit to be repeated.