The Fake Fiancée

“No, honey, he wasn’t. Even if he had been, it would still be wrong to kick him.”

Bobby’s bottom lip stiffened. “I’m the man of the house now. Just like on TV.”

Lisa’s chest tightened. How could she scold him for protecting her? She kissed his forehead. “I love you. But no more hitting, no matter what the reason. Hitting doesn’t make a boy into a man.”

He didn’t respond, but Lisa knew he’d heard her.

Now she glowered at Joe’s pretty young secretary, who kept her gaze on her computer monitor. The brunette might appear to be a bubblehead, but she’d guarded Joe like a pit bull, not letting Lisa speak to him. Lisa had hoped to make this distasteful arrangement on the phone or at her house, giving her home-field advantage. But Joe’s secretary screened his calls and relayed his messages, limiting her access—no doubt on his orders. He could only fit Lisa into his schedule if she came to see him that morning. Given Bobby’s increased violent streak, the sooner she received the advance money and could enroll him, the better.

“Lisa.” Joe’s deep voice shivered through her. He leaned against the door frame of his office, hands in his pants pockets. “I must admit I’m surprised to hear from you, but I’m very pleased.”

He radiated confidence, with a touch of smug victory. In a dark charcoal three-piece suit, he looked even more handsome than she remembered. Her mouth went dry. Nerves, not attraction, she assured herself. She nodded cordially. “I’d like to discuss something with you.”

A second man emerged from Joe’s office, sans jacket or tie, with his gray shirt unbuttoned at the throat. Dark blond hair brushed his collar.

“This is my partner, Dylan Ross,” Joe said. Turning to Dylan, he added, “This is Lisa Meyer, owner of Goodies to Go. We’re about to negotiate the fine points to her providing desserts for our first fiscal year-end party in Howard.”

“Nice to meet you.” Dylan stepped forward and shook Lisa’s hand.

“Are you staying for the meeting, too?” She darted a look at Joe, relieved when he shook his head. At least he hadn’t spread the tale of their distasteful pact.

“Sorry,” Dylan said, a teasing light in his blue eyes. “Joe conveniently forgot to mention how attractive the caterer was he had to meet with. How’d you let that happen, Sue?” he asked Joe’s secretary, who watched their exchange avidly. Dylan glanced at his wristwatch. “Come to think of it, I might be able to spare a few minutes.”

“No, you really can’t.” Joe took his arm and marched him a few steps on his way.

“See you again,” Dylan called with a laugh as he continued on his own steam toward the door.

“Nice to meet you.” Lisa was still smiling when she met Joe’s narrowed gaze.

“So you’ve reconsidered?”

She glanced at his secretary, who bent over her keyboard, actively not listening. “Under certain circumstances, I might agree to your…proposition.”

Joe smiled. “I’m intrigued. Shall we step into my office?”

Said the drooling wolf to the lamb. Not fooled by his charming facade, she ignored the warmth of his hand on her elbow, as well as the tingle chasing through her blood.

Lisa couldn’t decide what to make of his enormous office. Neutral colors and light wood tones blended into blandness. Dark glass in the windows cloaked the sunlight. No plants to add life; no photographs graced his desk. Although tasteful and professional, Joe’s office presented an impersonal face to his associates. It certainly chilled her.

“Thanks for meeting with me here,” Joe said after seating her on a tan leather sofa. He settled in one of the three chairs across from her. “Would you care for a drink?”

Lisa declined with a shake of her head.

“Perhaps I could take you to lunch afterward?”

She smiled with insincere sweetness. “That won’t be possible. I had to rearrange my morning to suit yours. I have work to complete this afternoon.”

He chuckled as she evened the score.

“The flower show is in four days, you know.”

He winced. “I remember.”

Lisa almost crowed with satisfaction. She had him. He’d have to agree to give her the contract.

“You said you’d help me under certain conditions.” Joe’s manner turned less personal. “I assume you’re talking about catering our company party.”

“Yes, but that’s not the cond—”

He held up his hand. “I assure you I didn’t mean it as a bribe at the time, and I don’t think badly of you for agreeing to it now. It’s just a—” he waved his hand vaguely “—an exchange of services.”

Lisa bit her lip. For two cents, she’d walk out and leave him hanging—for two cents and about half a million dollars, which she didn’t have. Joe might need her to extricate him from this tangle of lies he’d woven, but she also needed him.

Dammit. She’d worked her rear off whittling down that debt. They’d still have to live hand-to-mouth for a while, but she had started to rebuild her life. Maybe in a year or two she could get a credit card, although it would no doubt be a prepay deal. But to have a credit rating she could be proud of. To pay off her business loans. To take her children to the pizza place herself and not cower at the cost of the arcade games. Oh, she’d do a lot for that. She’d enroll Bobby in that enrichment program, then stuff the check for the whole amount, without any grants from the school district, right up Bushfield’s nose.

She took a deep breath. “First, let me assure you I wouldn’t do this if I could come up with another solution.”

Joe’s eyebrows rose.

“I stayed up all night, worrying over this. If there was any way not to have to make this deal with you, any way at all…” She clenched her hands together.

“Is this your way of asking me for a favor?”

Lisa’s face heated. She’d insulted him. Not a promising start. Rubbing her temple, she mentally altered her phrasing. “No, it’s my way of proposing a deal. I believe in honesty, and although I might agree to your deception, it goes against my nature. I want you to understand my desper—my position.”

Joe leaned toward her. “Go on.”

“You need me to pretend to be your girlfriend, to appease your mother. I need your catering contract, but I don’t want our arrangement to upset my children. My condition is simple. They’re not to be involved. You’re not to be around them. It’s out of the question.”

He studied her in silence. After an eternity, he said, “I don’t see how I can stay away from the children since we’ll be dating.” His tone laced charm with silken warning.

“I thought I’d just meet your parents once or twice. At the Garden Society exhibit and maybe one other time in a couple of weeks to cap off the pretense.”

He shook his head. “We’ll have to be seen out together. My mother has a network of friends. She wouldn’t believe we have a serious relationship if we aren’t spotted around town. We’re supposedly on the brink of getting married.”

Lisa sighed, conceding his point. “Fine, but no meeting the kids. They’re a little confused right now, basically due to their father’s desertion. Brad, my husband, wasn’t…He didn’t…”

She jumped to her feet, unable to stay still.

“It wasn’t an amicable divorce?” Joe asked.

She snorted, then caught herself and paced away. “No, it wasn’t. It’s been a year and a half of upheaval for the kids.” She leaned back against his desk and gazed into mid-distance between them as some of those upheavals ran through her mind. The children’s tears. Her shock at sudden bankruptcy. Their nightmares. Their confusion and hurt.

“Is there any chance you and your husband might—?”

“No.” She shuddered. Not even for the children.

Joe nodded. He tapped steepled fingers against his full lower lip. Lisa ground her teeth, both irritated at him for his relaxed position while her world teetered to disaster, while also impatient with herself for noticing his seductive mouth at such a time.