Living the Fantasy

“I work in the PR department doing events. Health fairs and the like.”

“Health fairs?” His queen was…a PR girl? But that was perfect! She was in PR. She knew how to handle—

“Sorry. I’m just here for lunch.” She gave him a self-conscious shrug and turned to Elisa. “Are you free yet?”

“Uh…” began Elisa, but then from directly behind them, the head of OMG Action! spoke, her voice cutting through the foyer in strident tones.

“No, she’s not!” said Marilyn Madison. “Both of them are coming with me!”

Then the strangest thing happened. All three of them—himself, Elisa and his queen—all groaned at once.

2

ALI FLORES COULDN’T LOOK AT the cute guy who’d tried to flirt with her in the hallway. She’d figured out his problem. He’d assumed she was a model just because she was headed into the agency, and wasn’t that just too funny! The idea of her as a model cracked her up. She wasn’t tall, blonde or rail-thin. And she certainly didn’t have the style sense to do anything like modeling.

Still, she had to admit she was flattered, even if he really needed to get his eyes checked. She had been looking forward to giggling with Elisa about it over lunch when Mad Marilyn saw them. That was their code name for Marilyn Madison, owner of the agency and somewhat of a bitch.

Last week, Elisa had taken Ali out to lunch for her twenty-eighth birthday. It wasn’t until they were on their way back to the office that Elisa realized she’d accidentally paid using the corporate credit card. Sure, Elisa had refunded the money into the petty-cash drawer along with the receipt and the explanation, but Ali just knew the madwoman was going to ream them both out at the first opportunity. And now the time had come to pay the piper.

Too bad it had to happen in front of that cute guy she couldn’t quite look at.

Ali mouthed the word busted to her friend, then turned around to face Marilyn. Since she wasn’t employed here, Ali fully intended to take all the blame. She wasn’t exactly sure how she was going to manage that except that she was really good at constructing elaborate cover stories. She’d just have to make sure it was really good.

With that thought in mind, she pasted on an ultra-innocent smile and turned around. First off: start with flattery.

“Why, Miss Madison, look at you! You’ve lost weight!”

As expected, the woman stopped glaring long enough to shoot Ali an I-know-what-you’re-doing smile. “Thank you for noticing,” the woman said. “I’ve always thought you to be unusually perceptive.”

Ali blinked. She had? Since when? As far as she was aware, the woman didn’t even know her name. Then she had to mentally slap herself. Obviously, the woman was simply shooting back the same insincere flattery that Ali had given her.

“Now come along, you two,” the woman said, punctuating her order with a glare at Elisa.

Ali shuddered. This was not good.

Then the woman turned a dazzling smile on the sweet Blind Ken, as Ali had now named him in her mind.

“Mr. Johnson, please, if you would give us just a moment, I’m sure I can work things out just as you’d like.”

“But I’d like—”

“Yes,” Mad Marilyn interrupted. “I know exactly what you want, and I’m going to make sure you get it. But first, I’ve ordered some sandwiches and coffee. They’ll be up in just a moment. Why don’t you wait with your VP in the conference room. I’ll be just a moment.”

Blind Ken had a VP? Wow, he must be the difficult client Elisa had been texting her about. The guy who wasn’t happy with any of their usual models, but couldn’t say why.

She looked up at him, and immediately regretted her decision. He was staring intently at her. He obviously wanted to say something but wasn’t sure what. She could relate. She spent half her life thinking she ought to say something, but not knowing what would work.

The moment stretched on, and the pressure to say something—anything—built inside her. She took a breath at the very same moment he did, but then Mad Marilyn beat them both to the punch.

“In here please, Miss Flores,” she said in a freezing tone.

Nothing to do now but shut her mouth and follow the madwoman into her office. At least Elisa would be in there, too, but one look at her friend’s face and she could tell they were both equally clueless about what was going on.

She’d barely stepped into the large room when Marilyn started talking and rooting through files at the same moment.

“Shut the door, Elisa. Have a seat, Miss Flores. We really need to change your name. Never model under your real name. How do you feel about Flowers?”

Ali frowned, replaying the sentences in her mind. Nope. They still didn’t make any sense. But Mad Marilyn looked up to pin her with a glare.

“Well? Do you like Flowers?”

“Um, yes?” Who didn’t like flowers?

“Excellent.” Marilyn pulled out a thick contract, set it down on the desk and started writing. “So your name will be Ali Flowers. You’ll have the standard agency agreement, but before I can release you to Mr. Johnson, you’ll need some training. Emergency training, if you catch my drift. But lucky for you, I can simply deduct the cost of that from the contract with GQ.”

Elisa stepped closer after having closed the door. “I think you mean QG. Quirky Games.”

Marilyn looked up and frowned. “What? Oh, right. These games. Ridiculous name. Quirky. Whatever. Now, Ms. Flowers, will you please sign here, here, here, and initial here.” She pushed a pen forward into Ali’s hand.

Ali barely managed to grab hold of the pen, but beyond that, she didn’t move a muscle. She felt like an idiot—and a slow one to boot—but she had no clue what was going on and no interest in signing anything until she did.

So she carefully set the pen down. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. Why would I sign an agency agreement with you?”

“So you can be GQ’s Guinevere!”

“QG,” she corrected. It was the only thing she understood. That they were definitely not talking about Gentlemen’s Quarterly.

Mad Marilyn waved that away with an impatient snort. “Look, I understand you want more money. Don’t we all? But I simply can’t get you ready in time and forgo the usual agency cut. Believe me I’ll be earning every cent!”

Ali shook her head. “But I don’t want to be a model.” The idea was laughable! “And why would you—”

“Marilyn, please,” cried Elisa. Apparently, she understood what was going on. “Ali just came here for lunch.”

“Well, what has that to do with anything? Look,” she said, turning her laser eyes on Ali. “That man out there has a lot of money. He’s been looking all over the city for some woman to play his Queen Guinevere in a summer promotional sweep. And now he wants you.” She grabbed the pen and pushed it into Ali’s hand. “So sign. Then you and I can make a lot of money.”

Ali gaped at her. “Guinevere? Me?”

Marilyn rolled her eyes. “Yes, you!”

“But why?”

“Because he’s a crazy man! You’re not tall enough, you’re not trained in any way and you could stand to lose a few pounds.”

“Hey!” That was Elisa, not Ali. Sadly, Ali knew everything the woman said was absolutely correct.

“But I don’t understand why,” said Ali, her gaze going to Elisa. Sadly, Mad Marilyn wasn’t allowing anyone to talk but herself.

“It doesn’t matter why, Miss Flowers. It matters that you say yes!” This time she forcibly wrapped Ali’s fingers around the pen.