Thea texted to say she’d found a guy who would be her date for the entire weekend for a thousand dollars. She tucked her phone away, not at all interested in some guy her sister found for her.
She glanced around and didn’t see her makeup artist, KT, and her stylist and personal assistant, Stephan, so she headed toward one of the tall tables in the back. She almost stumbled when she saw the hunky blond sitting in one of the large leather club chairs near the entrance. He had a clean-shaven, chiseled jaw. His hair was long and brushed the tops of his shoulders, but it was clean and lustrous and reminded her of a Viking...not the pillaging kind but the hot, yummy kind.
Make him an offer he can’t refuse.
Thea’s voice whispered through her head and she shook it to dispel her sister’s ridiculous idea. It absolutely wasn’t happening.
But now that Thea had planted the seed, Iris did sort of wonder if she could do it. She ran a multimillion-dollar business. She remembered something her mom had said when she had started to make real money as a social media influencer: don’t be afraid to pay people to do the things you need done.
Technically there was nothing wrong with showing up at a destination wedding without a date. But the wedding was going to be televised. She was getting ready to launch a domestic goddess–themed range of products and a book. Everyone from her management team to her own staff were looking at the numbers that said she was stagnating while her competition made advances. People like Scarlet O’Malley, the heiress and social media influencer, who was now married and expecting her first child. Iris’s peers—her competition—were moving on from single-girl-in-the-city to new-wife-and-mama and she was still stuck in...boring-and-basic land.
Ugh!
If she showed up with someone like the Viking on her arm, it would be a boost to her social image, and it would give her a man to pose with. She could even frame it as a business deal...
He glanced up and caught her staring and she smiled at him. He winked and smiled back. She walked over to him. She wished she’d paid more attention to that movie her mom had made them watch on girls’ night... Indecent Proposal. She needed to channel her best Robert Redford...or she could Pretty Woman him and be Richard Gere.
Confidence was key. She could be confident. Hadn’t she convinced her parents to let her start her own YouTube channel when she was fourteen?
“Hello,” she said. She’d charm the socks off him, she thought. Glancing down at his feet she saw he hadn’t worn socks with his loafers. Fate was giving her a sign that she wouldn’t mess this up.
“Hi. Want to join me?” he asked.
She glanced at her watch. She had about fifteen minutes until she’d have to call her team. And Thea’s idea was there, nagging at her...though really, if she was going to do this, she had to stop thinking of it as Thea’s idea.
“Sure, but only if you’ll allow me to buy you a drink,” she said.
“I’m never one to turn down a pretty lady,” he said, standing and holding out a chair for her to join him.
“You aren’t?” she asked.
“Not at all.”
“Have you ever regretted that?” she asked. This man seemed daring, just like the Viking she’d compared him too, but she knew that she might be seeing what she wanted to see and not the real man.
“Never. Sometimes it has turned out differently than I anticipated but that’s life, isn’t it?”
“Your life maybe. I’m pretty much always following a plan,” she said. She watched him, carefully trying to gauge his reaction. Was she seriously thinking about Thea’s outrageous suggestion?
Yes. She was.
“I’ve never been one to follow a plan,” he said.
“How does that work?”
“I go where the wind takes me,” he said.
“The wind?”
“I’m a sailor and compete in yacht races,” he said.
Hah, she thought. She’d known he was a Viking and instead of pillaging he was out there conquering the sea.
“Like the America’s Cup?” she asked. She really didn’t know that much about yachting.
“Exactly like that. I’m currently putting together a team and looking for investors for my bid in four years,” he said.
He needed investors...
“Why are you asking?” he asked.
She took a deep breath. If she was going to do this then she wasn’t going to find a better man than this guy. He looked good, he needed investors and she liked him. “I need a favor,” she said.
“And only a stranger will do?” he asked.
She noticed he had a pile of papers on the table in front of him and as she glanced down, she recognized it as a prospectus—the kind of document someone looking for investors would use to showcase their product. She quickly looked away as he sat back down and straightened the papers, turning them facedown on the table.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to read your stuff,” she said.
“No problem. But you mentioned you need a favor. I’m already intrigued. Please sit down and then you can tell me all about it,” he said.
She sat down, crossing her feet at her ankles and keeping her back straight. Her father had once said that posture was the first step to giving off the air of confidence. She swallowed and then took a deep breath. She had to be careful: sexual harassment went both ways and she didn’t want to come across like she was propositioning him.
“I’m going to make you an offer that you can’t refuse,” she said. Wasn’t that what Robert Redford had said? Was that right? Wasn’t that the line?
“What are you, the Godfather?”
“No, I’m trying to say I need a man for the weekend, and if that prospectus is any indication you’re looking for investors, you need some money, so... I’m making a mess of this.”
“Is this an indecent proposal?”
Two
She blushed and blinked at him and then sat up even straighter and tipped her head to the side. “It’s more of a business proposal that is personal in nature.”
He’d been propositioned before but usually by women who wanted entrée into his jet-set world.
“I’m intrigued,” he said. And he wasn’t lying. This woman was beautiful. And though the fact that she was offering him money out of the blue was crazy, it was a nice fantasy to think of someone like her sponsoring his America’s Cup bid, not a bloodless corporation or his controlling father.
“I’m going to a destination wedding and I need a date. It’s four days, three nights, and I’m willing to invest in your project there in return for you accompanying me. It would be strictly for show. I’m not expecting you to do anything indecent.”
“Too bad. I sort of liked the idea,” he said. Funny, he was about to attend a wedding that was scheduled to run for the same amount of time. Was she attending Adler’s wedding, too?
Her shoulders stiffened and she sat up even straighter if that were possible. He liked her, he realized. She was different from the sporty women he usually hung out with, and though she was polished and clearly moved in the same social circles he’d grown up in, she felt different.
“Well, that’s not on the table,” she said.
“Why are you hiring a guy?” he asked. Frankly she didn’t seem like the type of woman who had to pay someone to be with her, and if she was, what was he missing?
“It’s a long story,” she said. “And I really don’t want to get into all the details. Suffice it to say, I was dating someone, and he broke up with me and I don’t want to go stag to this event. It’s televised and I’m filming while I’m there so...”
“It’s about image?” he asked, a bit disappointed because she’d seemed to be more real than that. But he’d been fooled before so he shouldn’t be too surprised.
She shook her head. “Yes, but it’s not what you think. It’s my business. I�
�m a lifestyle guru... I have a show and line of products and my mentor’s sister designed the wedding dress so I’m doing an entire behind-the-scenes thing. If it was just me and not all the other brand stuff, I wouldn’t care.”
“Who are you?” he asked. “I hope you don’t mind me asking but I’ve been out of the country and spend most of my time on the water.”
“I’m Iris Collins.”
He had heard of her, mainly from his sister, Mari, who had mentioned her as someone she wanted to grow her brand to be like. Which Zac had freely admitted he had no clue about. “I’m Zac.”
“Am I right in assuming you need investors for your America’s Cup bid?”
“Yes, I’m trying to find investors to fund my run. I have some new people and ideas I want to try,” Zac explained.
“I think I can help you with that,” she said.
“Lifestyle guru-ing pays that well?”
“Very well,” she said with a laugh. “Which is another reason why I really need to present the right image. It would mainly involve you dressing up and holding my hand. Maybe there’d be a kiss or two but I just need someone to be my partner at all the events.”
He was 100 percent sure that his answer had to be no. He didn’t need Carlton Mansford—his father’s PR-spin doctor—to explain that hiring himself out as a date for the weekend wasn’t going to play well if it ever got out. And he’d been a Bisset long enough to know that this kind of thing wouldn’t stay a secret.
He had to come clean with her. Let her know he wasn’t desperate for money.
“I...”
He trailed off. He wanted to let her know it was a no-go but didn’t want to embarrass her. Under different circumstances he’d have asked her out to dinner, but this wasn’t that time. He had a problematic wedding of his own to attend, and he needed to really focus on getting serious investors for his team, not a nice lady who had some money to pay him for a weekend together.
She gave him a wry smile. “Don’t say anything else. I knew it was a long shot. My sister said I should be Richard Gere and find myself someone pretty to have on my arm.”
“She’s right. But I’m not that guy,” he said.
She nodded. “Thank you for your time. And the drink is of course on me.”
She got up and walked away with way more class and elegance than he knew he could ever muster. She held her head high and back straight as she went over to the bar area.
Then there was a commotion near the entrance, and he noticed a TV cameraman and several photographers entering as the seating hostess tried to stop them.
They made a beeline for Iris and Zac turned to watch them.
“Ms. Collins, rumor has it that you were dumped by Graham Winstead III?” one of the paparazzi shouted out. “Will this affect the launch of your new Domestic Goddess line? How can you claim to know anything about domestic bliss when you’re—”
“Boys, please. Rumors are just that. Rumors. I’m not going to deign to answer them. As my father always says, keeping your ear close to the ground and listening is good business, repeating what you heard is asking for trouble.”
Iris Collins smiled winningly at the cameras and then glanced at her watch. “I have to run. I’m meeting someone important.”
She turned and started to walk past the paparazzi, but bumped into a table and lost her balance. Zac was on his feet before he had a chance to remind himself he’d already decided this was a bad idea.
But somehow watching her maintain her poise and dignity as she dealt with the gossip had made him forget that. He wanted to know more about this woman. He caught her and pulled her into his arms, looking down into her startled face.
“Angel face, I’ve got you,” he said, making sure he only looked at her.
* * *
Angel face?
She clung to his big shoulders and automatically smiled but she was pretty sure she looked like Jared Leto’s version of the Joker from Suicide Squad. Being ambushed in person wasn’t something she’d ever get used to. She preferred to deal with this kind of gossip online when she could rant to her assistant, then just smile and type out a response. Even more embarrassing had been the fact that she knew that Zac had overheard it all.
She’d pretty much used up all of her stores of bravado talking to the paparazzi and the last thing she wanted now was to make things worse. There was a knot in the pit of her stomach, and she was angry. And she couldn’t help it; ever since she was a young girl, when she got mad, she cried. She blinked a number of times, refusing to let anyone see tears in her eyes.
Including Zac, but he seemed to get that she needed someone at her side. And here he was, holding her and calling her angel face. She had been doing photo-calls for her blog and TV show for the last five years so she was polished and professional or at least she hoped she was on the outside. Inside she wanted to hammer out the details. Did this mean he would come with her to the wedding?
“Thanks,” she said, straightening back up. But he continued to hold her close to him.
“Go with it,” he said.
“Did you change your mind?” she asked, staring into his blue eyes and hoping that he had. Though a part of her wanted him just for her own, this was easier. No messy feelings, no falling for someone who thought she was basic. Just a simple exchange of favors.
“Yes,” he said under his breath.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and planted the biggest, juiciest, showiest kiss on his lips that she could. She knew it had to look good for the paparazzi and she put everything she had into it. She thought he was surprised at first, but then he dipped her low, his tongue sliding over hers, and she forgot about the cameras and the game. Forgot everything but the fact that this man was holding her in his arms, and he made her feel alive.
He straightened them both up and she still felt dazed. She had no problem ignoring the paparazzi, who were calling out questions to them as they walked out of the bar. He just sort of directed her and she followed. As soon as they were on the street, a large Bentley pulled up and a driver got out and opened the door.
“Sir.”
“Malcolm,” Zac said as he held the door open and she slid in the backseat.
As soon as the door closed behind them and they were on their way, she grabbed her phone and texted someone. Then she turned to him.
“Sorry, I was supposed to meet my hair and makeup people back there. I just texted them to cancel. Now what’s going on? Who are you? Did you really agree to be my date for four days? I’m pretty sure you don’t need the money...unless you’re a professional gigolo—you’re not, right?”
He rubbed his finger over his lips and just stared at her as if he couldn’t stop thinking about their kiss. If she were 100 percent honest, she couldn’t either, but she wanted to pretend nothing had happened. She was beige, right? She didn’t kiss a stranger and feel instant passion like this. It was probably a fluke, she thought. Yeah, a total fluke.
“You asked me to help you out in exchange for investing in my project,” he said. “I wasn’t going to do it, but when I saw what you were up against, I couldn’t resist.”
“Are you doing this out of pity?” she asked. If so, she was turning into a total loser. She really should never have started this whole indecent-proposal thing.
“No, I’m doing it for money,” he said, winking at her.
Damn, he was so handsome for a minute she just smiled back at him and then his words sunk in. “But do you need money? You’re not a gigolo, are you?”
“I don’t know anyone younger than my grandmother who uses that word.”
“I don’t like the term man-whore,” she quipped. “Listen, just answer me. Do you take money from women to hang out with them?”
“Just you,” he said.
He was being cute, and she couldn’t blame him, but this situation had just gone from
a jokey idea to reality and she was committed because those photos of the two of them were going to go viral. Having him by her side would seriously save her bacon, but at the same time it created a bunch of issues she and her team were going to have to deal with.
“Glad to know I’m special. Where are we going?” she asked as she realized the driver seemed to be making a big circle around downtown.
“Wherever you want to discuss this,” he said. “Malcolm will keep driving until we give him a location, right?”
“Yes, sir. Ma’am, where should I take you?” the driver asked her, without taking his eyes from the road.
“Take us to Collins Commons,” she said, naming her father’s compound in the financial district. They could discuss the details in one of the conference rooms there. Her phone started blowing up with texts and she glanced at them. Her team wanting to know where she was and who that hottie was with her.
“What’s at Collins Commons?” he asked.
“My father’s office. We can discuss your project, my investment in it and what I will need from you this weekend,” she said. “I think it’s best to get that all in writing so that we don’t have any confusion.”
“This weekend?”
“Yes. The wedding is the Osborn-Williams one on Nantucket.”
Zac stared at her for a long moment and seemed to be pondering something but he finally just took a deep breath and nodded more to himself than to her.
“Your dad does this kind of thing?” Zac asked.
“Investments and contracts, yes. Hiring a man for the weekend, no. I think I’m the first one in our family to do this.”
* * *
Zac had to give her props for recovering quickly; he realized there was much more to Iris Collins than met the eye. She had handled the online-gossip-site stringers with more aplomb that he ever had. He had seen her mask slip only once and that was when he kissed her.
Her One Night Proposal (One Night Book 4) Page 2