by Demi Damson
And yet, she was gorgeous. The way she’d looked up at him when he stepped close to her. He smiled at the memory. She smelled like soap and lavender. Her eyes were wide open, expectant, her lips barely parted. He had come very close to kissing her and he was pretty sure she had come pretty close to letting him.
But then, she would, wouldn’t she? The realization doused his thoughts like a bucket of cold water. He had to remember that: she was used to being what men wanted in return for money. That was her job. The way she looked up at him set off all kinds of longing in him because it was intended to. She was just after money, same as Lauren—she was more honest about it. She wasn’t pretending to be in love with him or that she wanted to be with him. It was a straight forward transaction. And the fact that he got hard just thinking about her, well, that was his problem and he needed to make sure she didn’t find out. This was a business arrangement.
Business. Jordan picked up the report from corporate services. Laura had found an issue that affected three customers but when she tried to speak to retail to see if they had any customers with the same problem, they gave her the cold shoulder. Jordan was going to have to go over there first thing in the morning and knock some heads together. He was constantly fighting against the closed-ranks attitudes of the department heads, an attitude encouraged by his father and the competition he fostered in the upper ranks. The result was a management team who acted as if their departments were under siege, rather than working together.
He heard the sounds of the staff packing up and leaving for the day but did no more than offer Joyce a quick wave. He was making real progress. The quiet of the empty office at night would allow him to make even more.
His shoulders were stiff when he was interrupted by a call from the security guard on the front desk. “There’s a woman here to see you, sir.” The man sounded like he thought it was a date or something.
“Did you get her name?”
“Figured you’d know it,” he said. Then there was some brief mumbling and he was back on the line. “Charlotte Jones, sir. Said she spoke to you this afternoon.”
Yes, but not about coming back tonight. What was she up to? Jordan scowled. He didn’t have time to play games. But he didn’t have time to find someone else for the weekend, either.
Maybe he was being unfair. She might just be here to show off the new clothes she bought. He cracked his neck. He wouldn’t mind getting out of here, going out for a drink.
She walked in, wearing the same old jeans and blouse. He swallowed his disappointment. “Mr. Lovett,” she said.
“Jordan,” he countered. She didn’t seem to be intimidated by him at all, which he found both frustrating and refreshing. Would he be able to control her? “How did you know I would be here?”
“Your phone was ringing non-stop and your desk was covered in paperwork. You had 137 unread new mails. It didn’t seem like you’d be able to get away for 5:30.”
She’d looked at his screen? That was a bit forward. “And what do you want?”
“Look, there’s been a mistake.” She opened up her purse and pulled out some cash. Possibly the money he’d given her earlier.
Jesus, did she think it was not enough? Was this another bid for money?
“No way,” he said.
“I don’t know what you are thinking but—” she started.
“Look, it’s simple. I do not have time to both manage the business and handle a relationship.” As Lauren had proven. He carried on with her long after he should have walked away, because he didn’t have the mental or emotional energy to actually do anything. And now here he was drooling on the first woman who presented himself. If his mother were alive, she’d be very disappointed in him. He didn’t even want to think about what Mom would think of George’s engagement. But he wasn’t going to think about that.
He took a deep breath. Did she really think she could negotiate with him? “You came highly recommended by Buddy. If you aren’t capable of doing the job, then that’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’ll find someone else.” He had to repress a smile at the fiery look she gave him. That hit a nerve, did it?
“I’m perfectly capable of doing a job,” she snapped. “But Buddy—”
He cut her off again, unwilling to hear her excuses. Buddy must have told her it was work 5K to him. “The deal is, pretend to be my date for a short time, at an agreed rate and with expenses paid. That’s it. I appreciate Buddy referring you to me but he’s not a part of these negotiations.”
She stared at him in response.
“Stand up.” He stepped towards her, aiming to keep her off balance.
She held out the money towards him. He took it out of her hand and shoved it into her purse. He put his hands at her waist, being very careful where he placed them. As he inhaled the fresh scent of her hair, he wondered if this was such a good idea. He felt almost intoxicated. This woman was disturbingly good at her job. He held out his right hand. “Put your hand in mine.” She did and he closed his fingers over hers, as if they were dancing. “Great, it fits. You are perfect for this role.”
She opened her mouth and closed it again. “I...oh.”
He realized he was just standing there, staring down at her parted lips, holding her close. He abruptly let go. He was going to have to learn to keep his hands to himself around this woman. On the other hand, at least it was easy to be around her. He just had to be careful he didn’t get carried away.
Damn Buddy for messing up his negotiations. “Please be my date for the weekend. $5,000 and that’s my final offer. I don’t expect anything else. I just want you to be friendly for two and a half days. I’m sure you can manage that.” He went for broke. “I already told them you would be there. I don’t want to explain to my father why you dumped me before we even got there.”
For a moment, he thought she was going to say no but then she furrowed her brow. “Your father? The weekend is at your father’s house?”
“It’s his engagement party. I need you to protect me from his fiancée.”
“And you want me to go to your father’s house and pretend to be your girlfriend?”
Christ, she wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box, was she? He nodded and spoke slowly. “Yes, exactly. Just in public. No personal services are required or expected.” He needed that to be clear, although a part of him did wonder what she might be like under that cool exterior. But no. He’d never paid for a woman’s attention in his life. It was bad enough he was paying her to show up.
She gave him a weird look but no longer looked as if she was ready to bolt. She rubbed her finger against her wrist. Then she nodded and moved the cash into her wallet, as if she was worried it might disappear. That he might change his mind? Or that she would. “Fine.” She still sounded reluctant. “I’ll do it.”
He would have liked a bit more enthusiasm but he’d take what he could get. “Friday afternoon to Sunday night late, $5,000, no extras, no more haggling? I’m serious now.”
“We agreed $4,000,” she said.
The woman was insane. “You negotiated a better rate.” He stared her down. He didn’t feel like it was the money bothering her; there was something about this she didn’t like. “You’re making me nervous. Are you actually going to be here on Friday?”
“Yes, I will be here.” She rubbed her wrist again. The skin there was red and a bit puffy where she had a tattoo, presumably recent. It looked like just the letter R. Maybe a boyfriend? Is that what was bothering her? “And you are right,” she said. “$5,000 it is.”
“And you can keep the clothes.”
“Clothes? Right. I’ll go shopping tomorrow. Three days, yes?”
“And changing for dinner, yes. And get some new shoes, too.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, dear. I will make sure I am dressed appropriately for your family drama.”
He grinned in response. “I appreciate it. Honestly, Charlotte. It’ll be fun.”
“Yeah, fun,” she said. “Well, I better get go
ing.” And without a further word, she was out the door.
“See you Friday,” he called after her. He was pretty sure she’d be there. She didn’t seem like the type who could turn down a challenge. And $5,000 was hardly small change.
He hated that money was a part of it at all. Not that he was interested in this woman. She would keep Lauren away from him and he wouldn’t have to get involved with anyone. And when the weekend was over, she would take the cash and go away and they would both be happy. It was exactly what he wanted.
He rubbed his hands again and wondered why they felt so dirty.
Chapter Five
How To Be Ruthless, Lesson One
Charlotte stormed out of the office. That man! Talk about ruthless! He had just informed her he was going to pay her to hang on his arm and then send her on her way when he was done. He was seriously a prize asshole, just like his father. The epitome of the rich business man who can do whatever he wants and damn the consequences. The way he’d loomed over her. She’d almost thought he was going to kiss her! She pushed away the thought that she wanted him to, that she might even have leaned into him. That was ludicrous. He was totally not her type, all domineering and business first. Nothing mattered except the money, as far as he was concerned.
But you did as he told you to, whispered a tiny treacherous voice in her mind. And maybe she had, yes. But she only played along with him to get her own way. Access to his father’s house for a whole weekend; how could she resist that? Especially since she knew he’d moved all his business archives into his home. What an odd thing to do, she thought. Did the man have something to hide? She hoped so. She would love to be the one to find out.
She fought off a twinge of guilt. Snooping around his files was not really her style, not to mention illegal. But if she was invited in, well, then he brought it on himself, didn’t he? She hadn’t asked to be dragged to the family mansion for a weekend. Jordan Lovett had asked her. Jordan had insisted, in fact, refusing to take no for an answer.
She’d had enough of being the good girl. Her father was living proof of where that got you: her parents were barely getting by. She was doing her best to help them out but it was tough. Meanwhile, Lovett Industries was worth a fortune. If they went public, George Lovett would probably end up one of the richest men on earth. Her dad had set the original company up, working long hours throughout her childhood with his “partner”, George Lovett. Then once success was in reach, Lovett had pushed Dad out, claiming he was holding them back, and taken over the company without even a golden handshake. Now, her parents couldn’t afford the mortgage on the house they’d lived in for thirty years and Dad was a broken man. This was why Charlotte wanted to be ruthless. Charlotte needed to be ruthless. R was for ruthless and revenge and retaliation and righting wrongs. She would prove to the world that her father deserved better. The tattoo was only the first step.
Charlotte went straight to Josephine’s Coffee. Not that she had any intention of working at this time of night. She ordered a double chocolate chip latte with caramel syrup. It probably had enough calories to feed a small village but she felt she’d earned it. She had fully intended to walk into Jordan Lovett’s office and hand him his money back, with a short lecture on how stupid he was to assume. He’d apologize for thinking she was... whoever it was that he thought she was. Then she’d laugh and walk away. She’d decided her plan of working for him was not going to work, was never going to work. Especially not if she kept falling to pieces every time he looked at her. He had a way of really looking at her, not just a glance but as if he was drinking her in. It made her brain freeze up. Fine, it was a non-starter.
Except instead of turning him down and laughing in his face, she’d kept the cash and agreed to take $5,000 more! And be his date for the weekend. She still couldn’t get over it: famous playboy Jordan Lovett, paying for female company. She could probably make more than $5,000 by selling that to the tabloids. She couldn’t help but wonder why. He was tall, good looking and charming. When she thought about how quickly he pulled her towards him as if they were going to dance, her heart raced a bit faster. If he could do that to her, his sworn enemy, then she couldn’t imagine he had any problem getting women to do whatever he damn well wanted. Something flared in her at the thought. Jealousy? She certainly didn’t wish for this. A fling was the last thing she wanted, let alone with some rich guy used to getting his own way. No thanks.
Her iPhone trembled. She answered without looking at caller-ID, there was only one person who would call after working hours. Which reminded her, she should pick up a burner phone to use for the weekend. She didn’t want the Lovetts to be able to track her down. “Hi Mom.”
“Hi honey! You aren’t still working, are you? I just called to remind you Rebecca’s birthday party is on Saturday afternoon.”
“Oh.” Rebecca was her 9-year-old neice and the light of the family’s life. Her brother hadn’t done much right but he turned out to be the one with the family-rearing genes. Not like Charlotte. “Um, I have some work on.”
“On a Saturday? Surely you can spare an hour for the child. Come over and have a slice of cake, at least.”
She rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know, Mom. I have a weekend job on, like security detail type thing.” She winced at the white lie but if she told her mother the truth, she’d go ballistic. Time enough for that if she found anything.
“You work too hard. It’s not good for you. When are you going to find a man and settle down? You aren’t getting any younger, you know.”
“Oh, Mom.” She bit her tongue to keep from remarking that the money she was making this weekend was going to pay for her parent’s mortgage and get her caught up on the rent. Mom didn’t think women should concern themselves with finances and Dad didn’t like to worry her. Yet another reason why Charlotte would rather be self-reliant and single than in a relationship where she was expected not to worry about such things like keeping a roof over their heads. She was never going to give up her freedom to be with some man who thought she needed looking after. Especially some rich businessman who bullied everyone into doing what he wanted.
She shook Jordan out of her head. No, definitely not, why was she even thinking about him? She was just over-excited by the idea of a clandestine job. This went way beyond private investigator and completely into spy territory. She definitely wasn’t still remembering that moment when he almost kissed her. Definitely not.
Chapter Six
TGIF
Jordan was surprised at how long it took for Friday to roll around and more importantly, how nervous he was that Charlotte wouldn’t show up. It was laughable, really. But he found himself looking forward to sparring with her. Sure, she’d agreed to spend the weekend with him—for a fee, he wasn’t going to forget that. But he was pretty sure she was going to be a challenge. He hoped so, anyway.
At half past two, he gave up on concentrating on reports. Half the office was packing up for the day already, the benefits of the flextime system he’d introduced. Surely he could afford to knock off early, just once. Buddy had flown out of town for a fishing trip he claimed had been booked for months, but Jordan suspected it was just an excuse to avoid the engagement party.
“I’m heading off,” called Joyce. She’d stopped calling him Mr. Lovett, at least. That could only be his father, as far as Jordan was concerned. On the downside, she now didn’t call him anything at all.
“Have a great weekend, Joyce.”
“I will! My son is surprising me with opera tickets for tonight!” She beamed at him. “I’ve guessed but I won’t tell him that. He loves to surprise me. Last month he got us reservations at the top restaurant in Riverside! I’m lucky to have such a good son.”
“He’s lucky to have a mom like you.”
Her smile faltered. “I’m sorry, Jordan. I didn’t think.”
“Go on, you, enjoy your evening out!” He waved her away and shuffled his paperwork, to make it clear he was busy. She smiled apologetically an
d left.
Everyone here knew Jordan’s mother had died when he was seven, she was the boss’ wife, after all. George Lovett threw himself into his work, by all accounts. Meanwhile, Jordan was packed off to boarding school, where he’d spent the next ten years, coming home only for school vacation and only when he had to. Life in his father’s house was a countless parade of business meetings and going out with the boys for whiskey and cigars—nothing of interest to a young boy. Jordan was jealous of his friends who went camping or fishing or even on family holidays. Jordan was just expected to keep quiet and stay out of the way and for god sakes don’t get the cream carpet dirty. His only friend in the sprawling house was Maria, the housekeeper, who was always happy to see him and would make all his favorite meals. Maria was the only person he was looking forward to seeing this weekend.
And where the hell was Charlotte? He glanced at his watch for the seventeenth time. Still five minutes to three, she wasn’t even late yet. Nevertheless, he started gathering up his things and signed out of the computer. If she hadn’t arrived by 3pm on the dot, he was leaving without her. She’d better be there.
“Ahem.” Spoken as a word, not a clearing of the throat.
He looked up to see her standing there, a vision in cream. Her hair was pulled back loosely, with loose strands framing her face, which had just a smidgen of makeup. She was wearing a light suit with a knee-length skirt and matching heels. She looked completely different from before: sophisticated and confident. He was staring. Only now did he realize she was chewing her bottom lip, waiting for his reaction. “Wow,” he said.