Instead, she turns around and smiles. “I forgot the most important thing,” she laughs, nodding to the banana bread on the table. “Can’t leave without it.”
I smile to hide my disappointment and watch her wrap up the loaf that I made for her. Then, she kisses my cheek and walks out, leaving Naomi, Ariana, Ben and me on our own.
“What happened in there?” Ariana says, laughing. “Did you forget it’s her birthday? Mama Naomi is out for blood.” Ariana winks at me, and Naomi rolls her eyes.
“I didn’t know she would leave. You know she’s not drinking much these days, she probably had just had enough.”
Ariana makes a noise, nodding. She glances at me and shrugs apologetically. Something tells me if Naomi hadn’t been here, I would have my lips crushed against Meg’s, and Ariana would be cheering us on.
Disappointment roils inside me, but I try to ignore it. Instead, I order another drink and talk to Naomi as Ben and Ariana hit it off. After another hour, I head home. There’s not much point in me being there.
I don’t hear from Ben until late the next day. He calls me, and I can hear the grin in his voice as soon as he says hello.
“So you and Ariana, hey?” I ask.
“I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Like fuck you don’t.”
He laughs. “Hey man, just because you didn’t get any doesn’t mean you have to be all bitter about it.”
“I’m not bitter,” I say, but I know my voice sounds strained. Maybe I am a little bitter—well, not bitter, exactly. I just don’t know how to break through the wall that Meg is throwing up. I know she wants to keep things professional, but I just… don’t. I don’t care that she’s my physical therapist. Worst case, I can find another one. My shoulder isn’t even that bad!
I haven’t been this excited to be around a woman in a long, long time.
Ben tells me about the rest of his night, leaving out more than a few details about his time with Ariana. Good for him, I guess.
But as soon as we get off the phone, I find Meghan’s business card. I stare at her number before saying ‘fuck it’ under my breath.
Andrew: Hey, you get home okay last night?
I stare at my phone for a few moments, and then let out a sigh. Pathetic. Am I just going to stare at the screen until she answers? I’m about to toss my phone aside when it buzzes. My heart jumps.
Meghan: Yeah, thanks. Sorry for running away.
Andrew: You don’t need to apologize.
I hesitate, and then keep typing.
Want to grab a bite to eat today? Lunch?
Three little dots tell me she’s typing a message. They disappear, and then reappear again and my heart starts to thump. This feels like a rejection. It feels like she’s erasing her message and retyping it, maybe getting the ‘sorry’ and the ‘let’s keep it professional’ to sting just a little bit less.
Meghan: Sure. 2 o’clock?
“Yes!” I shout out into my empty apartment. I laugh, sending her the address of my favorite sandwich spot. It’s casual but delicious, and a great place to bring your physiotherapist-slash-crush on a first date. Is this a first date?
Who cares? I’m seeing her again.
It’s even harder for me to get ready for this date than it was last night. I change my shirt half a dozen times, and switch from dark wash jeans to slightly less dark wash jeans.
Finally happy with my appearance, I wipe my hands on my thighs and head out the door to see the most beautiful girl I’ve met in a long time. Ever since things between Hannah and me went south, I’ve stayed away from women. In a way, this feels like a new beginning.
As if she can sense me moving away from her, Hannah calls me just as I unlock my car. I sigh.
“What do you want?”
“Wow, not even a hello for the woman you were supposed to marry,” she says sarcastically.
“I sent you the money, Hannah. Is there something else you needed?”
“I just wanted to remind you of the obligations that you had. The money you accepted before going to Penn State would cause quite a splash in the media, if that story were to get out. You know as well as I do that you’d have been kicked out of college if anyone found out.”
“The money your family paid me, you mean,” I say, my hand tightening on my phone.
“I just don’t want you to get lazy with these payments. You’ve been late twice now.”
“I’ve already paid everything I owe, Hannah. This is extortion.”
“It’s interest, which has accrued over the past ten years. Interest is expensive. Plus, there’s the emotional damages that I sustained when you broke up with me. I’m being generous by allowing you to pay me back with something as simple as money.”
Anger flashes through my chest and I take a deep breath to calm myself down.
“Point taken,” I say through clenched teeth. “Thank you for the reminder.”
“Just remember what’s at stake here, Andrew. If you don’t pay, then the press knows that you took money to go to Penn State. You’ll lose your career.”
“I’m aware of the stakes.”
“Good.”
The phone clicks as she hangs up on me. I bend over at the waist and scream as loud as I can. My scream reverberates through the garage and I stand there, panting. Once I’ve calmed down, I open the door and drive to see Meg.
She’s already there when I arrive. She stands up and I almost gasp. With her long, blonde hair tumbling around her face and a tight white tee shirt leaving nothing to the imagination, I think I’m in heaven. She’s casual and sexy and irresistible all rolled into one.
“Hey,” she says, smiling. “How you feeling today?”
“Not bad, I went home pretty early.”
“Did you hear about Ben and Ari?”
“Yeah,” I grin. Meg laughs, shaking her head.
“Just tell Ben that he might get his heart crushed.”
“I was going to say the same thing.”
“Maybe they’re perfect for each other.”
“Maybe they are,” I say. We hold each other’s gaze for a few moments, and a blush warms Meg’s cheeks. We’re still standing, so I clear my throat and motion to the seats.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I say after an awkward silence.
“What do you mean?”
“After you ran away last night—”
“Ran away?!” She laughs.
“I’m just using your words.”
Meg giggles, shaking her head. “I was being responsible.”
“And what do you call this?” I ask, motioning to the restaurant. “Is this responsible?”
Her blush deepens, and she shakes her head. “This is a business lunch,” she laughs. “Although I am slightly disappointed that you didn’t bring any banana bread.”
“Am I supposed to bring you baked goods every time I see you?”
“It wouldn’t hurt.”
“I may have set the expectations too high. Soon, you’ll be expecting a full five-course meal every time I come in for my shoulder.”
Meg grins. “That sounds pretty good, actually.”
I laugh.
We order our food and fall into easy conversation. I love her smile. It brightens her whole face. By the time our sandwiches get to the table, my cheeks hurt from laughing so much.
“So Naomi said you didn’t drink much,” I say before taking a bite of my sandwich. “Is that just a personal choice?”
“I work out a lot,” she says, shrugging. “Can’t you tell?” She flexes her arm, showing off a fairly impressive bicep bump.
I lift my eyebrows. “I can. Very sexy.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “Nah, I just don’t really like the feeling of getting drunk. I used to drink a lot, but then I just decided that it wasn’t worth it. Hangovers suck.”
“They do,” I say. “Even after a couple drinks I could feel them this morning.” I look at her curiously. “What about your family? Do they live aroun
d here?”
She shakes her head. “Vegas, actually.”
“Vegas!”
“I come from a family of showgirls.”
“What? Really?”
“No,” she grins. “Vegas is actually pretty normal outside the strip. I moved out here after college. Needed to put some distance between me and my family.”
“I get that.”
She tilts her head and stares at me for a few moments.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she says, grinning. “It’s nothing.”
“Tell me.”
“You’re going to think I’m a crazy person.”
“We met because you confronted me about a slice of banana bread.”
“I don’t see the connection.”
I laugh, and Meg flashes that knee-weakening smile at me. Finally, she nods.
“Fine. But you have to promise not to judge me. It was a fleeting thought, nothing more.”
“I never judge.”
“I was just thinking what it would be like if you came to Vegas with me, to my sister’s wedding. I was picturing the look on her face if I walked in with a guy like you on my arm.”
A grin starts spreading across my face. “Yeah? You guys have a bit of a rivalry?”
“I wouldn’t call it a rivalry,” she says. “More like they look down on me because I didn’t marry one of the men they had chosen for me. And then a bunch of shit happened and yada yada yada they disowned me.” She starts laughing and shrugs. “Just your regular old family trauma.”
“Is that why you moved away?”
“Among other things, yeah. Career opportunities were better out here. But it played a big part.”
I nod. “When’s the wedding?”
Her eyebrows twitch upwards. “My sister’s wedding?”
I nod.
“Not this weekend but the one after.”
“Done.”
She laughs, frowning. “What do you mean, ‘done’?”
“I mean I’m in. Let’s do it. I’ll be your man-candy, but only if you promise to objectify me every chance you get.”
She laughs then, and I mean really laughs. It makes my heart sing. She’s still laughing when she shakes her head.
“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”
“I can handle it.”
“Andrew,” she says, her face getting serious. There’s still a glimmer in her eye, so I just grin.
“Meg.”
“Are you being serious right now?”
“Completely. But I do have one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“I have a family reunion that weekend in San Diego. After the wedding, we head down to California and you can be my arm-candy in return.”
She chews her lip.
I grin. “I’ll book us a couple plane tickets now,” I say, pulling out my phone.
“I already have a ticket,” she laughs.
“First-class tickets,” I say. “How do you feel about rolling up to the wedding in a limousine?”
“This is crazy.”
“Just like you.”
Meg laughs. “Shut up, jerk face.”
“So that’s a yes? I’m your man-candy.”
She’s grinning. “Fine. We can be each other’s arm-candy. But I think we should establish some ground rules.”
“Okay, like what?”
“Number one, we keep it professional.”
“We keep what professional?”
She laughs. “Us, Andrew. We keep this professional.” She waves between her and me. “I’m not going to lie, I’m attracted to you. And I think you might be attracted to me, too. But you’re my client, and I don’t want to make this thing messier than it needs to be. We’re just exchanging arm-candy services, with no extra obligations.”
I nod. “Sorry, can you repeat that? I didn’t hear anything after you saying you thought I was attractive.”
Meg laughs, shaking her head. “This is a bad idea.”
“It’s a great idea. I’m in. We’ll keep it professional. I’ll get us a limo. Arm-candy services only.”
I extend my hand across the table. She looks at it for a few moments and then laughs.
“Fuck it,” she says. “Deal.”
10
Meghan
I don’t really believe that Andrew is serious until I get an email from him with my itinerary with a business-class ticket. ‘They didn’t have first class on this flight’ he writes in the email, as if he has to explain himself.
I’m sitting at work, staring at my screen when I get the email. Naomi must see the look on my face.
“What’s so funny?” She asks.
“Nothing,” I say. I glance at my screen again and can’t keep the smile off my face.
“What?” Naomi asks again, pushing her chair back. She walks around her desk and comes towards me. I turn my computer screen in her direction, chuckling.
She looks at the screen, frowning. I can see the wheels turning in her head as she reads the email, and finally her jaw drops.
“Meghan.”
“What?”
“Why did Andrew Davis buy the two of you business-class plane tickets to Vegas on the weekend?”
“Well…”
I bite my lip. Naomi’s jaw is on the floor, and she keeps looking from my screen back to me. She starts chuckling harder and harder as she shakes her head, until she’s laughing so hard she has to lean on the desk to support herself. I giggle with her, staring at the screen and putting my hand over my mouth.
This is ridiculous, I know it is.
When Naomi finishes laughing, she sighs and looks at me.
“Jesus, Meg!”
“At least I’m not fake-marrying him,” I joke. Naomi’s cheeks redden—even though it was over a year ago, she still gets red when we talk about her arrangement with Max Westbrook.
“That’s true.”
She looks at me, grinning.
“So, am I right in assuming he’s going to your sister’s wedding with you?”
“That’s the plan, yeah.”
“And how did that come about?”
I chuckle. “I don’t even really know. I just sort of mentioned it and before I know it, he’s sending me a first-class ticket to Vegas.”
“Business-class ticket,” Naomi grins.
“Right, my bad. We agreed on a strictly professional relationship. Arm-candy only. He’ll come to my sister’s wedding and I’ll go to his family reunion.”
Naomi arches her eyebrow. “What could possibly go wrong?”
I grin. “Just like my sugar baby days. That all turned out fine, the worst thing that happened was my entire family turning their backs on me and not talking to me for six years.”
Naomi laughs and shakes her head. “I don’t know anyone else who can laugh about these things the way that you do.”
“Hey, if I’m not laughing, I’m crying. I know which one I prefer.”
Naomi takes a big breath and shakes her head again. “Just be careful, Meg.”
When Andrew says he’ll pick me up to go to the airport on the morning of the flight, I’m not expecting a limousine. My eyebrows shoot up when it turns the corner.
“No way,” I say under my breath.
But yes, it’s for me. The driver gets out of the front seat and tips his cap at me before opening the back door. Andrew steps out. He leans down towards me and kisses my cheek as his hand rests on my hip.
Electricity sizzles wherever he touches. He just barely brushes his lips over my cheek, but it feels like it left a trail of fire. I haven’t seen him since our physio appointment on Monday, and my body is automatically drawn to him.
Strictly professional, though, right? This is going to be a long weekend.
The driver grabs my suitcase and throws it in the trunk while Andrew helps me into the limo. I look around and whistle.
“If you’re trying to impress me, it’s working,” I grin. “Although the ban
ana bread was more my style.”
Andrew chuckles. “Well at least I know for the future.”
“No need for all this,” I grin, waving my hand around the massive back seat. The leather seats are gleaming, and the shiny wood paneling gives the whole limo a secluded, seductive feeling. It reminds me of something my parents would rent, except this is classier.
Andrew slides closer to me. His thigh touches mine where we sit, and my heart skips a beat. I take a deep breath and smell a hint of his cologne.
He leans over to the side and pops open a hidden compartment in the side of the limo. He pulls out a bottle of champagne and I start laughing.
“It’s not even eight o’clock in the morning yet.”
“Jimmy Buffett once said ‘it’s five o’clock somewhere’, and I tend to live my life by that mantra,” Andrew grins. I laugh, nodding.
“Go ahead, then,” I laugh. “Got any orange juice for that? I wouldn’t mind a mimosa.”
He pops open another hidden compartment and produces a full bottle of orange juice. I laugh again, shaking my head.
“Color me impressed, Mr. Davis,” I say.
“Banana bread-level impressed?” He asks as he hands me a flute of champagne and starts pouring.
“Getting close.”
We clink our glasses together and my heart flutters.
I’ve been dreading this weekend for months. Ever since my sister called me and told me she was getting married, I knew the whole weekend would be torture. I’d have to endure questions and comments and insinuations about my past that just aren’t true.
But now? Now I’m actually looking forward to it.
I never thought I’d say those words, but it’s true. I actually want to go to Vegas for the weekend. I want to spend time with Andrew, and I want to see the look on my sister’s face when she sees me walk in with an NFL player on my arm.
Call me immature, call me bitter and vindictive, call me whatever you want. When I sip my mimosa and stare into Andrew’s deep, blue eyes, I can’t help but be happy about it.
Engaged to Mr. Perfect: An Accidental Marriage Romance (Mr. Right Series Book 3) Page 5