"Hello?"
"We're downstairs. Hurry down. I'll give you a ride." Justin hung up without allowing her to say anything else. She sighed. When he said he'd give her till that morning, he really meant that morning. She trudged down the stairs, her fingers trembling and her stomach felt like it was doing backflips on a trampoline. As she reached to open the door she paused, took a deep breath, and plastered on a fake smile. Outside, in front of her apartment was the hearse that will take her to her own personal funeral. Without a word, she slid into the Bentley beside her boss. He was pristinely dressed as usual, in his Armani suit and tie, and the car was filled with his masculine scent, a mixture of sandalwood and leather. Whatever you do, do not breathe, she warned herself and parted her lips. If she breathed through her mouth, she had no need to inhale his scent and she could actually think clearly. She hoped.
"Morning," he said with a smile that reached his eyes and caught her off guard.
“Morning Mr Dunne,” she attempted with her professional voice.
“Did you have time to think about my proposal?”
He said it as if he had asked her to marry him, if only it was that, but it was nothing but a business deal, and she felt as if she was on auction.
"I did," she said. Looking at him from under her lashes, "But I didn’t expect you to arrive at my apartment, it could have waited till I was at work.”
He chuckled and tapped on the front seat for the driver to get going.
"Perhaps, but I figured the sooner I know your answer, the better," he said and sunk back into the comfort of the seat, not once taking his eyes off her.
"Did you ever once consider that I may be unavailable on account of having a partner?" she said blankly as she stared out the window at the passing scenery.
"If you were, which you’re not, I would have made alternative arrangements,” he said.
She whipped her head around to look at him, "How would you know I am not involved?” she said, crossing her arms. "Have you been spying on me?”
"I wouldn’t call it spying, but truly, you work till late every day, and you’re always the first one at the office, you have picture of your cat on your desk, if you were involved, I would love to meet the lucky man willing to put up with a workaholic. It’s called being observant.”
What an arrogant ass, she thought and rolled her eyes.
"This is a terrible idea," she said, diverting her gaze to the outside world again.
“Is that a yes?” he asked.
She didn’t respond; for a moment, she contemplated her options and weighed the pros and cons. Doing this will change the dynamic of their working relationship completely.
"Look I'm sorry," he started, "I'm sorry about the way I've gone about this thus far. I should have been more considerate as to how this will impact your life, but I need your help Jennifer. I'm a desperate man with a lot at stake."
"At any given time, there are tons of interns working in various departments at your company. You could have picked any one of them,” she rubbed her hand down over her face.
"No," he shook his head, "I wanted you, you are smart, you can think on your feet and I’m confident that you are the only one who would be able to deliver a believable performance. I'm not going to trust any old wet-behind-the-ears intern with my future.”
Many people were rich. Jennifer knew this. Justin Dunne was not rich. He was wealthy. His riches had levels. From liquid cash, to assets, property, companies, the list went on. Whereas some were born with silver spoons in their mouths, Justin's spoon had been solid gold and diamond encrusted. Having a man that rich and powerful at her mercy should have given her more perverse pleasure but it didn't. She felt almost sorry for him. He was reduced to desperate measures.
"There have to be rules," she said, leaning back into her seat.
"Of course there will be, I have an agreement drawn up, which we both will sign once we agree on the terms.”
He left no rocks unturned, she realized, but if she was going to do this, she was going to make sure her terms were also met.
"Firstly, I don't want your money, I’m not a prostitute. I’m already on your payroll, that’s enough as is," she started.
"Fair enough, but extra money will come in handy."
She ignored that statement and continued, "I won't have sex with you," she said. "We need to look like a couple in public but behind closed doors nothing happens.”
Justin laughed at that and she scowled, “I’m serious, I’m not a whore."
“I had no intentions of getting physical with you, so trust me, your virtue will remain intact.” That stung a bit, he didn’t have to act like she had the plague. Maybe he didn’t find her attractive?
"I don't want this to get in the way of our working relationship…”
"I am going to be having someone else do your duties while this is going on," he interrupted and held up his hand.
“Excuse me? Then what happens when this is all over?”
“You’ll pick up where you left off; I’ll get a temp to take over from you for the time being. I can’t have my fiancée working like a normal employee.”
"And when it's over I get my job back? If this arrangement is going to cost me my bread and butter, I refuse to accept."
"Like I said, your job is safe. You can start again as soon as this is over."
How would she ever face the other staff when she returned? Everyone would be under the impression that they were an item, and if she just waltzed in and took over again, it will raise a few brows. Or worse, they would think Justin dumped her and that’s why she was back at work. She mentally groaned at the potential pitying looks that would be coming her way. But that was a bridge she would cross when she got there. There was always the slightest chance that she could find another job and eventually leave for good.
"Do you have any rules?" she asked.
Justin shifted in his seat and turned to look at her. She was paler than usual, and his gut twisted slightly, but in the long run he knew it will all work out.
"A few, firstly we have to stay in the same house. Same house... not the same bed," he said, seeing her eyes widen. "It gives more credibility to the relationship."
"Makes sense, what else?"
"You can't be involved with anyone else romantically during the time that we are together, I'm sure you can imagine why," he said.
She nodded, “Obviously.”
"One more thing, you have to wear a ring."
She raised her brows and rolled her eyes, “Seriously I don’t think wearing a ring or not would make any difference.”
“Of course it would, what man in his right mind would have a fiancée who doesn’t wear a ring? It’s like a promise of commitment or whatever you want to call it. The first thing anyone looks at is the ring when you tell them you’re engaged.”
She was modest, and he liked that about her. In all the time he got to know her, working with her, she was never one for flashy outfits and daily trips to a hair salon or a spa. Unlike the women he had dated in the past, all of which were always out to wear the most expensive outfits, drive the flashiest cars and owned shoes that would make Prada look like an outback retail store.
"Well in that case I have no problem switching fingers,” she said as she pried her birthstone ring from her right ring finger and put it on her left. It was a cute little piece of jewelry, with a small stone stacked on a band that looked like twined silver, the stone could pass as a diamond to the naked eye, but it was not what he had in mind.
“No sweetheart, that won’t do,” he leaned over and instructed his driver to take a detour to Harry Winston’s. If he was going to make this work, it was going to have to include all the bells and whistles.
Chapter 3
Jennifer had never had any reason before to venture into Harry Winston. She knew that it was a jewelry shop but that was about it. And now she was standing, hand-in-hand with her boss looking at rings. He had looked over four, five, six karat stones asking
her opinion on all of them. Only the commitment of her highest level acting skills had kept her from exclaiming loudly that he would be out of his mind to purchase one of those. It was a complete waste of money considering the fact that she’ll only wear it for a few months.
She tried her hardest to remain the calm and serene fiancée as they looked over rings that were more expensive than several years of her salary. She pulled out her best loving gazes and delighted faces in the shop, disguising her real feelings of utter shock.
After finally deciding on a ring that he wanted, and she simply agreeing with, they made their way out of the store. She felt fake, used and excited all at the same time. The kaleidoscope of emotions that flooded her was almost too much.
"Could you not have taken one of the less extravagant rings? Trying to impress people with material things is just a show boat.”
"Jennifer, please. The ring is nothing. I want to buy one. I’ll send for it to be collected as soon as it’s been resized and then we can make it official,” he said as he opened the door for her.
Jennifer slumped back in her seat and sighed. The words ‘make it official’ rang like loud church bells in her mind and she felt a headache slowly creeping up on her. When this is all over she’ll probably be tainted beyond repair, and if she does eventually meet someone, the lie will roll over and over and over. She would always be known as the one who was once engaged. She rubbed the back of her neck and forced herself to calm down. She can do this, she told herself and from somewhere deep down she found the courage to raise her chin and take on the challenge.
"Just by the way… not to rain on your parade or anything, the ring is beautiful and you have great taste but I think a family heirloom engagement ring would impress your future wife a lot more, just saying."
"Oh really?" he asked, amused.
"It’s much more sentimental, so if you ever do decide to propose for real, consider that as a winner.”
"My mother would sooner eat herself than part with Gran’s old jewelry," he said lightly.
"Your parents are still happily married?" she asked curiously. She knew Justin well enough but he had never made any mention of his parents.
"Yes, they will want to talk to you by the way. My mother would never forgive me if she heard about this in the news before we told her."
Great! She thought as she mentally constructed a list of things to conclude to make this work.
1.Tell the parents
2.Tell the news
3.Tell the employees
4.Pretend ALL the time
5.Sign the deal
6.Break off the engagement
She was sure that the list was going to grow sooner or later, but for now, those were the points she collected.
"Are they going to get the public or private version of the story?" Jennifer asked.
"I don't know yet," he admitted. "Your parents will probably want to know as well. Do they live in the city?"
"No. I moved here on my own. My mother and stepfather live in North Carolina."
"I didn't know you were from the South."
Jennifer burst out laughing and shook her head, what they knew about each other was minimal, she knew how he liked his coffee, what color ties he preferred, how he liked his eggs and steak. But those were minor details anyone could pick up on in one day. There was a lot more they had to learn about each other in order to look like the ideal couple.
"If you want people to believe we are about to get married there's a number of questions about me you have to be able to answer. I can type them up and send them to you to read at your leisure," she said and shrugged.
Justin chuckled, "That won't be necessary. We have today and tomorrow to get to know each other better. I'm not completely clueless."
"Yeah?" Jennifer sat up. "What's my middle name?"
"Mae. What's mine?" he laughed.
"Franklin. When is my birthday?"
"November 18th. When is mine?"
"Close, it’s November 16th. Yours is December 31st.”
Surprised that he was one step ahead of her, she laughed, "Okay then, so how did we fall in love?"
He looked at her, and smirked, “In my office, you dropped a pencil and bent to pick it up, and I liked what I saw.”
This time Jennifer couldn’t help herself, the mental image of her bent over and him staring at her backside was almost too funny to even consider.
"God no, we’ll have to come up with something random and corny. I suppose while working together, we were simply on the same wavelength and it was only a matter of time before you realized you couldn’t live without me,” she said and smirked.
"Or…” he started, “Your coffee was too good to resist, and you won me over with a cup and a donut?”
“Lame,” she giggled. "Okay, we can come up with something later. Why is this first that anybody is going to hear of me?"
He looked thoughtful at that. "So how did you end up here in the city?" he asked.
"I needed a break from home life. I was taking care of my father and going through the process of moving him into assisted living, and after that I figured it was time to start afresh."
"I’m sorry to hear that, it must have been hard to put him in a home,” he said and rested his hand on hers.
She didn’t pull away; his touch was gentle and he showed genuine sympathy. She looked down at their hands for a second then smiled softly.
"He has dementia. I go and see him every weekend I can, but most of the time he hardly knows who I am," she said.
"I'm sorry. I can't imagine how difficult that is for you," he said again.
"Don't worry about it," she said dismissively. "Where are we going?"
"I’m taking you home, so that you can settle in.”
“But I have work to finish and hand over to the temp,” she said nervously.
It was all happening too fast, first a yes, then a ring, now she’s moving in, all in one day.
“That’s all taken care of, we need to get the ball rolling, the dinner is Friday evening, and by then we need it all set up.”
"I don't have any of my things," she protested.
"Use the rest of the day to buy new things. Ryan will take you where you need to go."
"Don't be ridiculous. Just drop me off at home so I can pack."
"Jennifer, I'm offering. I'll cover the costs. Buy whatever you want."
"What's wrong with the clothes I wear?" she asked irritably.
Surely he wasn’t going to expect her to transform completely? she still had the right to cling to who she really was. Pretences aside, she was still Jennifer.
"Nothing…" he started.
"Then let me go home, I know where you live. I'll be there by this afternoon.”
"There is nothing in your house that you can't purchase something new of."
Seriously! Why was he so demanding and so impatient? It would take her an hour at most to pack, and at least that way she will have the last few minutes of her freedom without him hovering.
"I have to tell my landlord I am going to be away. I have to turn the refrigerator off. I have to organize for my mail to be delivered to a different address. I have things I need to take care of before moving anywhere, and don't tell me that you can hire people to do them for me."
Justin closed his eyes and sighed and Jennifer smiled inwardly. He was not going to run her life for her.
"Five o'clock. Be at my house by five o'clock," he said tersely. "We have a date."
Four-thirty, and Jennifer stood in front of the elevator in the upper-class apartment block. She had always known where Justin lived but she had never been here herself. She had packed modestly, figuring she would be able to go back to her apartment if she really needed to. Besides, Justin's offer to buy what she wanted was always an option. Since he was hell bent on turning her life upside down, maybe she should take advantage of some of his money after all.
She shook her head thinking about the argument they had had. She did
n't want to take clothes from him; the ring was already too much. She didn't want him to turn her into the kind of Fifth Avenue princess that he would ideally be suited to. That was not part of the deal. Pressing the 'PH' button in the elevator gave her a slight rush. What did the penthouse apartment of a billionaire look like on the inside? What would Justin look like when he wasn’t dressed up in his suit and tie?
The elevator pinged as she reached the penthouse level and the door swooshed open, leading into a short corridor, with only one door ahead of her. She felt intimidated by the grandeur of it all. She raised her hand to knock, but it hit air as the door swung open.
“Your impeccable time management is commendable,” he said as he stepped aside for her to enter.
He was dressed in faded jeans and a black V-neck T, wearing no shoes. His hair was still wet, which meant he had time to shower. Jennifer took a steadying breath and inhaled his fresh scent as she passed him and her stomach flipped. Why did he have to be so good looking, why couldn’t he just have been an average guy that didn’t look like he belonged on some Men’s magazine cover, she thought as she placed her luggage on the floor.
Being that high in the air meant he had no use for curtains. That further meant that natural light suffused the open, comfortable space of his home. His furnishings were surprisingly light, from the pine laminate floors, to the white of the walls and the upholstery of various creams and off whites. The living space was so big the von Trapp family could have comfortably called it home. It was bigger than a bachelor would have any use for.
“Glad you made it on time, let me show you your room,” he said and picked up her suitcase.
She nearly freaked out when she noticed one of her bra’s hanging out on the side; it was a black lacy bra. One thing she was always pedantic about was wearing comfortable but classy underwear. Her mom always used to insist that a woman’s underwear was her pride.
“Uh… let me get that,” she said and reached for her suitcase, but Justin smirked and pulled it out of her reach.
Stranded: A Mountain Man Romance Page 70