Aggie the Horrible vs. Max the Pompous Ass

by Lisa Wells

  She glanced up. Her expression unreadable. “Looks like you’re hiring a new assistant.”

  He advanced toward her. “I am. I screwed up and lost the best one I have ever had.”

  “Got her pregnant, did you?”

  Meemaw must have taught her the fine art of a poker face, because he could tell nothing from her expression about what she was really thinking. Why had she come? To make up or to read him the riot act? God knew he deserved the riot act. “That’s the rumor. And to make matters worse, I never even got a chance to grovel for forgiveness. I said things that were unforgivable. Things I didn’t mean. Things I regret with every ounce of my being. Things that were spurred by foolish pride. Things she should never ever forgive me for saying. Yet I pray she will.”

  She winced. “That does indeed make matters worse. Will those you interview be asked to take a test?”

  He wanted desperately to grab her into his arms and kiss her senseless. He didn’t. He couldn’t rush things and screw this up. “They will.” He’d been searching his whole life for someone like her. Hadn’t known he was searching until she left.

  She perched on his desk. “I thought you might still be up to that old trick, so I’ve reworked your test.” Was it his imagination or did he just catch a twinkle in her eyes?

  He was afraid to hope yet desperately needed to hope. “Why did it need reworking?”

  “Because your old one had a major flaw.”

  “Major, you say?”

  “Definitely. You need one that matches you with an assistant immune to all of your charms—not susceptible to them.”

  He certainly wasn’t immune to her charms. He resisted the urge to touch her. Not yet. Not until he knew he wasn’t foolishly misreading her signals. Which was quite likely. Hope could make an idiot out of a man. That and the fear of giving your heart away. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in applying for the job?” For eternity he stood in front of her, raw and exposed. Waiting for a “yes” or a “go to hell” or an “I’ve got a better idea.”

  She tilted her head to gaze into his eyes, poker face still in place. “Would I have to pass the new test? The one that doesn’t allow for the falling for your charms?”

  He briefly closed his eyes. He did not want her to pass that test. “I’ve been thinking, and I have another test in mind for you. That is…if you’re interested.” He waited for her to shoot him down. Tell him she’d just come back to give him a piece of her sharp-witted mind. She didn’t.

  Instead, she graced him with her slow-burning smile. The one that always scrambled his brain. This time was no different. The one she wouldn’t give him if things weren’t going to be okay. “A new test?”

  He nodded and boldly stepped into her bubble, forcing her to open her legs to make room for him.

  Her smile didn’t falter as she laid the résumés down behind her. Neither did it falter when they missed the desk and fell to the floor. Or when she reached up and loosened his tie. “There’s a distinct chance I might want to apply, if for no other reason than I do love to take tests. May I get a sneak peek at your new one?”

  He yanked his tie off and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt. “It’s not so much a written test as it is an action test.”

  She put her hands on his chest, sliding them up and over his shoulders before helping him to slip out of his jacket. “Like a skills test?”

  “Exactly.” His voice came out husky.

  Her hands went to his waistband. “I’m listening.” She unbuckled his belt.

  He groaned. His wild, beautiful bird had come back to him. “It starts with a kissing test. And then progresses at an appropriate pace.”

  “I’m a seasoned runner, you know.” Her hands undid the button of his pants. “And, as such, I like to do things at a reckless pace.”

  He placed his hands on either side of her on the desk and inhaled her perfume. The heady scent talked to him like a silent lover. “I can keep up with whatever pace you set.”

  She unzipped his pants. “And if I pass the test, is there a contract to be signed?”

  The sweet sound of her sexy voice sent his blood pumping. “I’m a strong believer in contracts.”

  “Me, too. How many months would this contract last?” She pushed his pants down until they fell around his ankles.

  God. It seemed like yesterday they’d stood in this room and squared off on which of them would blink first about the job. Bless the Universe they were both too stubborn to blink. “Life.” He kicked out of his shoes and his pants.

  …

  Aggie never knew her heart could soar while still throbbing with pain. But as much as she didn’t want to bring anything negative into this moment, she had to. She needed to know the storm had passed and the sky would stay blue after the sex they were no doubt about to enjoy. Lovers are in it for the sex. Period. Not your heart. Period. “Does that mean I’m redeemable?”

  Regret registered in his eyes. “Honey, you never needed redeeming or needed to be redeemed. You are a precious gem I found and foolishly lost. It’s me who needs redeeming, and I promise, if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving I’m worthy of your love.”

  She laughed. The first laugh since meeting Mom. “You’re awfully pompous to assume I’m in love with you.”

  He reddened. “Are you?”

  Was it possible he didn’t realize how hypnotized she was by him? “As it happens, I very much love you.” No need to be coy. “Can you ever forgive me for costing you the bid?”

  “What bid?” He swiped everything off his desk and pushed her down on the clean surface. “The only thing on my mind is how very much I love you.”

  Sometimes lovers are in it for your heart. New period. “You do? Even if Mom’s a felon? Which shouldn’t matter and shame on you—”

  “Agnes LaBelle Johansson, I love you. So. Fucking. Much. Your pedigree has never been an issue.”

  “And you’re not saying that because you’re after one of my world-famous blow jobs?”

  Epilogue

  Max’s heart overflowed with joy. Aggie sat next to him in a booth located in the back of Vinos and Pinots. They’d met here with a client. Not any client. Max’s pain-in-the-ass client. David Long. The one Aggie met with the day of the cat incident.

  David had asked to meet with Max and insisted he bring Aggie. He’d just left.

  “I can’t believe everything worked out,” she said, her voice full of awe.

  Neither could he. Not the contract part, that was icing, but with him and her. “I still can’t believe you came back to fight for us.”

  She fluttered her lashes at him. “You know…there comes a time in a woman’s life when she realizes she really is capable of being that woman, so if a man says he likes-her, likes-her, he actually means what he is saying.” She raised her glass of wine. “Here’s to your newest contract.”

  “Here’s to the wonder who turned one of my most difficult clients into my finest client.” David had given him a contract so big, had he won the bid on the other contract—the one not filed on time—he would have had to say no. Together, they would turn the amusement park into a tiny-house community, complete with its own shopping center and business opportunities. A community for people who wanted a hand up in life instead of a handout.

  “I am a wonder, aren’t I?” She giggled and sipped her wine.

  “In the office and in the bedroom.”

  She blushed. “I could say the same about you. I won’t, because it will give you a second big head, but I could.”

  “Are you ready to get out of here and go home and celebrate?” He loved the fact his home now contained female touches and dresser drawers full of female things. Like panties. Lots and lots of panties.

  …

  Aggie’s new phone rang. She glanced at Max. “It’s Meemaw. What do you want
to bet she’s with Ms. Grace and they are in the midst of scheming something?”

  “I know better than to take that bet.”

  She answered the call. “Hi, Meemaw. What’s up?”

  “I’ve got you on speakerphone. Grace is here with me. Are you, by any chance, with Max?”

  She put her phone on speaker. “You know I am. Don’t think we didn’t notice you’ve both turned on the tracking apps on our phones.”

  “Oh. That. Well, it’s for safety. You can track me, too, if needed. Unless I turn it off. In that case, be minding your own business.”

  “Hello, Grandmother and Ms. Hazel,” Max said.

  “Hello, darling,” Ms. Grace said. “Hello, Aggie.”

  Max dropped an arm around Aggie’s shoulders. “You’re cheerful, Grandmother. Is there something going on in your life you’ve failed to tell me about? Like the double-date you and Ms. Hazel went on over the weekend?”

  Aggie elbowed him in the ribs. She’d filled him in on how Meemaw ended up with one date too many Saturday night, and she had turned a lemon into sweet lemonade tea. But that had been said in confidence. Good thing she hadn’t told him the best part of that story. Halfway into the evening, the women realized they’d divvied up the men wrong. Ms. Grace was better suited for the police chief and Meemaw for Richard Harris. So they had swapped out dates right then and there.

  Max gave her a very unapologetic shrug.

  The grandmothers were silent for an unusual length of time.

  “Grandmother? Cat got your tongue?” Max teased.

  She gave a happy sigh. Not only did he like-her, like-her, but Pompous Ass was beginning to use some of her idioms. She’d conducted more research into the compatibility of a Reformer and an Enthusiast and came across a link that explained how the two types could actually be a really good mix if their values meshed and they were working for the same things in life.

  “That’s not what we called about,” Ms. Grace finally said. “If you want to know what’s going on in my love life, stop by and see me more often.”

  Max glanced down at Aggie and mouthed “love life.” His whole face a picture of shock.

  “I’ll be there tomorrow.”

  “I’ll come, too,” Aggie added. If Ms. Grace had fallen into instant love, she wanted to hear the whole story from her, not Meemaw, who would leave out the sex bits.

  “Aggie, darling, you’re welcome to drop by any time.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Grace.”

  “You two be a peach and call before you drop by my place,” Meemaw said. “I just might be entertaining a guy.”

  Aggie laughed. “Meemaw, why did you call?” She and Meemaw were once again okay. Aggie discovered just because someone’s mad at you didn’t mean they stopped loving you.

  “Bless your heart. You never have taken a hankering to the idea of my dating.”

  Her insides went gooey. Meemaw had put herself on the shelf for far too long worrying about being dumber than dirt. “You’re stalling. What’s up?” She tried to sound sharp and skeptical. Failed. It’s hard to be either of those things when your life is a bed of roses stripped of their thorns.

  “Are you two sitting down?” Meemaw asked.

  “Sitting,” Aggie and Max said in unison.

  “Max, dear,” Ms. Grace said, “Hazel and I have come up with the most delightful plan, and we need your help.”

  “What kind of help?” he asked.

  He dropped a kiss on Aggie’s nose. She loved when he did that. There wasn’t much he did that she didn’t love. Not that he’d suddenly become flawless. How boring would life be if you fell for a perfect person?

  “We want you to find us a spot to open our new business. At a discount, of course.”

  “What new business would that be?” Aggie asked.

  “We’re going to open a new matchmaking business. It will be called Singles Mingle,” Meemaw said.

  “Or Love the Old-Fashioned Way,” Ms. Grace chimed in.

  “It will be a place for people to meet without the help of an app. Your fate no longer lays in the up or down swipe of a screen,” Meemaw said. “We’ll have a venue for holding singles functions. Grace and I will host the events, and with our eagle eyes for love, we’ll guide those together who are meant to be together.”

  “Doesn’t that sound delightful?” Ms. Grace said. “We’re hoping the two of you will give us permission to use your story as a testimonial of our skills.”

  “This is a wonderful idea. Meemaw, you’re going to finally have a job that makes you happy.” A tear landed on Aggie’s cheek.

  Max pulled her into his arms. “Aggie and I will be delighted to help.”

  She glanced at him. “They could set up business in one of the shops we’re including in our new project.”

  “What’s that about a new project?” Meemaw asked.

  “We have some great news of our own,” Aggie said.

  The grandmothers laughed.

  “Bless your heart, are you pregnant? Max, did you go and knock up my granddaughter?”

  She rolled her eyes. That wasn’t happening. She was determined to be the first Johansson to get the cart and horse scenario in the right order. In that vein, she’d recently purchased a new box of hot-pink condoms, and at the rate they were going through them, next time, she’d have to buy them in bulk quantity.

  “Ms. Hazel—” he said. His cheeks were a bright red, and his Adam’s apple was working overtime.

  “Call me Meemaw.”

  “Meemaw, I promise to make an honest woman of Aggie before I make you a great-grandmother.”

  Aggie beamed up at him. They’d talked plenty about love but not marriage. Not that she was worried. As it turned out, she did indeed meet every one of his qualifications of the perfect woman.

  “Maxi Treadwell, are you going to tell us your news or what?” Ms. Grace said.

  Aggie placed a hand on Max’s. “Yes, Maxi, why don’t you tell them our news?”

  He gave her a strange smile. “If you insist.” He stood, went down on one knee, pulled a ring box out of his jacket pocket and said, “Aggie the Horrible, Aggie the Lovable, Aggie the very most perfect bane of my existence, would you do me the honor of being my wife?” He opened the ring box, showing her an insanely large, square-cut diamond wrapped with tiny lavender-blue stones.

  Sweet baby Jesus. She nodded, a tear dangling on her lashes. “Be a peach and slide that on my finger. Let’s see how it fits.”

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  Acknowledgments

  This book is the brainchild of the fabulous Liz Pelletier of Entangled Publishing and me. I love that Liz makes herself available to bounce plot bunnies around with her authors. It is a perk of writing for Entangled Publishing that I do not take for granted.

  Nor do I take for granted the wonderful editors who helped me whip this story into its sassy shape. During the process of bringing this book to the public, I had the privilege of working with editors: Robin Haseltine, Lydia Sharp, and Liz Pelletier. They are each a gem. And I have nothing but deep admiration for my copy editor, Jessica Meigs.

  A big shout out to cover artist, Elizabeth Turner Stokes, who designed the fun cover. I am a firm believer it should be on display at every brick-and-mortar bookstore if for no other reason than that the cover just begs to be fondled.

  My fabulous agent, Ann Rose, deserves all the accolades for believing in me. When I’m having a rough day, I remind myself she finds my writing fabulously funny.

  Then there are my writing buddies: Barbara Huddleston and Claudia Shelton. Via daily Zoom sessions, these ladies have talked me off more than one writing-related ledge during this past year and inspired me to write even on days the muse was not there. I don’t ever want to go back to a life where I don’t get to hang out with
them Monday through Friday via Zoom.

  And I need to thank my family for accepting me, quirks and all. They cheer me on every step of the way.

  And lastly, I’d like to thank my writing angels who hang out with me during every writing session and help me come up with plot ideas.

  About the Author

  Lisa Wells always knew there would come a time in her life when she’d pursue her dream career as a romance author. This is that time. Before this moment, she’s enjoyed a rollercoaster journey called—The Middle School Counselor—Dramas, Dreams, and Destinies. After many years of working with teenage girls, she knows when one comes in baffled because another girl hates her, the first question to ask is—“Did you steal her boyfriend?” Nine times out of ten the answer is some form of yes but… While Lisa enjoys working with adolescents, she writes for adults. Her books contain: Sex, Scowls & Sass.

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  The Attraction of Adeline

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