“Nope. And Bryn can attest to that.”
“To some degree,” she agreed. “But you’re super picky. No one is perfect and you let the tiniest quirks annoy you.”
“I think sleeping with someone under an assumed identity is classified as a whole lot more than a ‘quirk.’ ”
“True. But you’ve tossed away some fine men because of dirty socks on the floor and chewed fingernails.”
“I refuse to settle and live my life dealing with things that annoy me.”
Ryan . . . er . . . .Oliver hadn’t thrown his socks on her floor like all the other interviewees had. Well, accept for Logan. He’d worn flip-flops, which was a whole different irritation all together. But Oliver had folded his socks with his suit pants and placed them on her chair. And his nails were suitably clipped and filed, no jagged edges, no girlie manicure like Kyle. Stop thinking about Oliver!
After he’d left her apartment the night before, an uncontrollable sadness crept into her otherwise furious heart. So, she’d allowed herself ten minutes to bawl her eyes out. When the pity party was over, she pushed him from her thoughts and added him to the pile of discarded men she had no use for.
But damn it, her heart kept digging him out and bringing him back to her conscious mind. The thought of their encounters together had her wishing she’d taken home one of the new vibrators from the shop.
“So, what do we do now?” Penny asked.
“First of all, I call the real Ryan and find out what happened.” Mia reached for the phone, his resume sitting on the table in front of them. “If he’d shown up, none of this would be happening right now.”
Three minutes later she hung up and tossed the résumé into the trash. “He stood me up to stay faithful to his girlfriend.”
“See, there are good men out there.” Bryn gave her the smile she gave her kids when they needed to be coddled.
“Hardly. The coward couldn’t even call to tell me he’d chickened out.” Mia fanned the other models’ photos across the break-room table. “Now we make our decision based on the other interviewees. We have two models to choose from.”
“This guy’s cute,” Penny said and pointed to Kyle’s photo.
“He is, and very suave with the ladies, but he is a bit immature. I can almost see him taking off and leaving us high and dry if some other opportunity comes along. That or a horny soccer mom.”
Bryn’s eyebrows furrowed. “Huh?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“O . . . kay. So what about blondie here?” Bryn asked. “He’s hot, too.”
“I liked Logan. And he’s got the reality show thing he’s working on. Who knows if it will actually come to fruition, but it could be a perk.”
The women stared at the photos for a while, flipping between face shots and photos of their bodies and genitalia.
“Well, you said Logan has the longer dick, so I vote for that.” Bryn was so blunt sometimes, but Mia secretly liked it. She often said what was on Mia’s mind.
“I think he’s the better option, just for his maturity level. And yes, his length was a definite perk.”
“Okay. It’s settled then,” Penny said. “We should get the process started. I already have posters and flyers ready to go. We just need to load the photos and add his name. Who’s gonna call and deliver the good news to him? And the bad news to everyone else?”
Mia looked to Bryn. “I’ve done all the hard work so far. You can take it from here.”
ANOTHER DEPRESSING day at the office was over. Oliver had slept like shit the night before, the scene with Mia replaying over and over again.
He drove but had no desire to go home. But where else to go? Any of his usual after-work hangouts would only bring him face to face with friends and colleagues. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. As if on autopilot, the car headed toward The Red Brick Inn, the dingy bar he’d met Mia in, the place he’d gone several nights just hoping she’d walk in. Was he hoping for that again?
Even if that did happen, she’d just give him more of the same. And he deserved it.
He pulled into a parking lot and turned around, heading back toward his condo.
“What took you so long?” Alexiana barked the second he opened the door. “We have dinner ressies in half an hour.”
Fuck. What boring get-together was she dragging him to now? “What for?”
“I told you last night. We’re taste-testing entrée selections for the wedding. Mommy and Daddy will be there, and the wedding coordinator, too. Go change. I laid out your Gucci suit and a new shirt and tie I bought today.”
Oliver would rather take the new tie and make a noose out of it, but trudged to the bedroom anyway. He flopped onto the bed next to his suit.
The click-clack of designer shoes on hardwood echoed in his ears.
“Get up! You’re going to wrinkle your suit.”
Alexiana went to her vanity, searching out her signature scent and spritzed. “Oh, I wanted to ask.” She released a snorted giggle. “Have you heard about that job yet?”
“No.” He lied. He’d received a very brief, very polite message from Bryn earlier that day, telling him they would not be needing his services.
“Whatever. Even if they hire you, there’s no way I’m letting my husband be some underwear model. That’s just disgusting and degrading.”
“You may be my fiancée, but you don’t tell me what I can and cannot do.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, let me just call your mother then. See what she thinks about this little side job of yours.”
“These threats are old.”
“Trust me, it’s not a threat.”
“You know what? Go ahead. Tell her.”
She huffed and crossed her arms across her chest. “I don’t have time for this now. You’ve got five minutes to change and be ready.”
She stepped toward the full-length mirror, smoothing a skin-tight dress, not one bump, lump, or ripple. He didn’t know much about being pregnant, but he assumed by now there would be some evidence of a growing life.
“Hey. When’s your next prenatal appointment?”
“I don’t know. Why?”
“I want to go with you.”
He thought he saw a brief moment of panic in her reflection. She turned to him. “Why?”
“Isn’t that something dads-to-be do?”
“Maybe, but that’s not how I’m doing it. I don’t want anyone there with me. It’s a doctor’s appointment. It’s private.”
“Okay. Fine. I get it.” He’d have to give up that idea. Maybe he could try another angle. “Have you had any cravings? What about weight gain and bloating and stuff like that. Aren’t pregnant women supposed to be tired, too?”
“I don’t know. Why do you care all of a sudden? Not all pregnant women are the same, you know. I’m handling it my own way. Now get ready. We have to go.” She headed for the door.
“Nah. Go without me,” he said, trying not to smirk. “I’m tired and my stomach hurts.”
She spun around, the fire of hell in her eyes. “You’re lying. You look fine.”
“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. I’m handling it in my own way.”
“I can’t go alone. How will it look if the groom can’t be bothered to show up for the food tasting for his own wedding?”
“I don’t care how it looks.”
Alexiana clenched her jaw. There was more she wanted to say, but she kept it in. Thankfully. She stomped to the bathroom and when she returned, Oliver was in cotton lounge pants and a T-shirt. He’d neatly hung his suits back in the closet.
“So what are you going to do all night? Just sit here?”
“Yep. That’s what tired people with stomachaches do.” He grabbed the remote and flipped on the flat screen, flopping onto their king-sized bed and its lush bedding. “Tell me all about it when
you come home.”
She huffed and stalked away. Good riddance. He was no closer to finding out if she was faking her pregnancy, but he sure had pissed her off. What other things could he do to annoy her enough to leave him? The brainstorming session briefly took his mind off Mia. But then he was right back there thinking of her, which made his gut ache for real.
Was there any way he could make it up to her? Could a woman find a way to trust a guy who’d lied to her, who’d assumed another person’s identity to get close to her? A regular woman, maybe. A strong independent woman like Mia? Probably not.
What if he begged her for the job? Showed her he was the right man for it and proved how trustworthy he could be. He’d royally screwed it up with her, but he could change her mind. He had to try.
CHAPTER Ten
Mia went to the shop on her day off. Logan was coming in to sign his paperwork and she wanted to be there. This was an exciting, yet nerve-racking, day in Classy ’n’ Sassy’s history. It would be known as either the day they turned it all around or the day that started their spiral into hell.
Logan came into the shop and right away Bryn fawned over him. He insisted on hugging her instead of a normal handshake and she ate up every second.
“Mia didn’t tell me you were such a charmer. You’re perfect. Ready to woo some ladies into buying copies of your cock?”
“Yep! And I have a meeting with a producer next week for my reality show. I think I found a company to take it on. It’s gonna be totally awesome.”
“So exciting! Will we be in it, too?”
Mia shook her head at Bryn. She was addicted to reality shows, the tackier the better.
“Of course. My show won’t be complete without my sexy bosses.”
She giggled like she had freshman year when Sean the star hockey player had asked for her number.
Enough of the flirting. Mia stepped in. “Okay, here’s how it will work. You’ll sign a six-month contract to be our model, which can be renewed if the project goes well and both parties agree to continue the working relationship. You’ll be paid a flat fee for molding services, then get an hourly fee for store appearances, etcetera.”
“Great. Hand me a pen.”
“Not so fast. We have a few requests before anything becomes official. First of all, go a little lighter on the spray tan. Maybe nix it altogether. And would you be open to cutting your hair shorter, or at least having it styled and gelled back, something a bit more sophisticated? We may be selling dildos, but we want to keep it classy.”
Logan nodded. “Sure. Whatever you say, boss.”
The door chime sounded and all three looked toward it. Mia’s stomach sank and Bryn whispered, “Oh, shit.”
“Mia, can we talk?” Oliver asked.
“No. We said everything the other night. Get out.”
“Please. I really want this job.”
“Too late, dude. They already chose me.” Logan smiled like he’d just won a beauty pageant.
Oliver looked him up and down then locked eyes with Mia. “Is this surfer guy really who you want to represent your shop?”
“He was the best one out of the small pool of suitable candidates.”
“You know I’m best for the job.” He stepped toward her, voice dipping a few octaves. “He’s not the one you want.”
A lonely butterfly did a lap around her heart, but she squashed it. “It doesn’t matter. We chose Logan. You need to accept it and leave.”
“But look how he’s dressed. You can’t have a guy in ratty jeans and a T-shirt selling merchandise.”
Mia started to speak but Logan beat her. “Dude, I’ll be naked. No one will give a shit what my clothes look like.”
Bryn snickered. “He’s got a point.”
Oliver ignored Logan and Bryn and concentrated on Mia. “Come on. You know I’m better for this job. I know what will happen if this toy line tanks. Do you really want to trust this guy?”
“Well, if you’re gonna go there, he’s never lied to me. He didn’t pretend to be someone else in order to sleep with me. So yeah, in the trust department, he’s definitely ahead of you.”
“Okay, okay. Let’s stop this bickering,” Bryn said. “I have a solution. Let’s use both guys.”
“No,” Mia and Logan said at the same time.
“Why, afraid of a little competition?” Oliver asked, staring Logan down. He had a good four inches on him.
“I don’t want some other dude on my reality show.”
Oliver looked to Mia. “What is he talking about?”
“He’s trying to get some reality show and use the job as one of the focuses. But it doesn’t matter. We’re having one model. One signature toy. End of discussion.”
“I don’t know, Mia. Different women like different dicks.” Bryn put her hand on Logan’s arm. “Some women may like the laid-back tan and blond hottie, with a long thin cock.”
Logan’s smile wide, he pushed back his shoulders and puffed out his defined pecs.
Bryn then moved to Oliver. “But others want Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome, the businessman, with his big, thick, powerful dick.”
Oliver’s cheeks went pink. “Uh, yeah. I agree. Women have different tastes in men. Why not give them different toys to buy?”
Mia was backed into a corner. Think. Quick! “What about the money? We can’t afford to pay two guys.”
“I’ll find the money somewhere,” Bryn said. “I’ll get rid of cable and internet at home for a few months.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“Then we’ll figure out something else. We need to do it this way. Go big or go home, right?”
“Or close up shop.”
“It won’t come to that.” Bryn looped an arm through each of the guys. “You know it’s a fabulous idea.”
Mia looked to the three people before her. “Whatever. Do what you want.”
She left the showroom and escaped to her office. But looking at her chair, all she saw was Oliver’s naked body. Before she could leave and go somewhere else, Bryn was at her door.
“I’m sorry. If you’re really not okay with this, we’ll kick Oliver to the curb.”
“It’s just . . . well . . . he can’t be trusted.”
“Are you talking about the shop, or being trusted with other things? Like your heart?”
“Don’t even go there.”
“I know you like him. Deny it all you want. But you need to get over your issues with him and do what’s best for the shop. I think having two models is a great idea. They’re so different.”
Bryn did have a point. Mia hated when Bryn was right and she couldn’t find a reason to support her own argument. Well, a reason other than the fact that she couldn’t be around Oliver for fear of melting at his feet and forgiving his sins like a pathetic sap of a woman.
“Okay. You’re right. Two dicks are better than one. Let’s start the paperwork.”
MIA LED the men into the break room.
“I don’t understand,” Logan started. “Why can’t it just be me?”
“We have a wide variety of customers and we feel it would be beneficial to have two different models and two different toys. That way we have something to satisfy everyone,” Bryn explained.
“But I can satisfy them all myself.”
Oliver snickered.
“Dude, what’s your problem?”
“No problem here. I think you’re the one who has issues.”
“You don’t even know me, bro. I’m trying to make a career for myself. One that’s not a death sentence with a striped tie for a noose. Why are you even here? Go back to your computer or wherever you go that needs a stuffy suit.”
“You don’t know me either, bro, so don’t assume you know anything about my life. I want this job just as much as you do, and obviously I deserve
it.”
“This was supposed to be just me. I’d be the star. A one-man show.”
“Well, first of all . . .” Mia interrupted the testosterone fest. “This is about the shop and us making money. And Bryn and I decided the best thing for the shop is to have two models. I don’t care about the reality show. So cut the crap.”
Mia sat at the table, pulling the pile of paperwork toward her, and Oliver took the seat next to her. Bryn sat, too, and with a huff, Logan followed.
“Whatever. I’ll probably sell more toys because of my show, then they’ll have no need for you.”
“Oh, you want to make a little wager on that?”
“Sure. The most dicks wins.”
“Well, I’m already looking at two dicks right here. Can we cut the playground crap, please?” Bryn begged. “Seriously. You remind me of when I volunteer at my kids’ school.”
Grant came into the break room. “I printed another copy of the contract the lawyer emailed us.” He set it in front of Logan as Mia slid the other toward Oliver. “Sign and date the highlighted sections.”
“Done.” Logan finished first, closing the booklet and setting his pen on top, like he’d been racing Oliver.
Mia rolled her eyes as Grant looked over the pages, making sure he hadn’t missed anything.
“Okay, so, the next step is to, um, take the impressions,” she said.
“How do you do that?” Logan asked.
“Well, there’s this special powder that we mix with water and it makes a soft gel-like substance. It goes into a mold and you, um, stick yourself in it.”
“I gotta stick my dick into some gunk?”
Grant sighed and shook his head. “Can I go now?”
“Yes. Thank you for your help,” Bryn answered, covering her smirk.
He left, mumbling under his breath, “Why me?”
“Anyway,” Bryn said, returning to the query at hand. “Yes. And it’s gotta stay there for sixty to ninety seconds. Can you sustain an erection for that long?”
“Pfft. I won’t have a problem.” He turned to Oliver. “What about you, Suit Boy?”
“I’ll be just fine. Don’t you worry your pretty little head.”
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