Boyfriend for Hire (10 page)

Seriously? This was her friend’s idea of an emergency? They really needed to work on their communication skills.

Cherry dropped into the offered chair, hands covering her face. A sob escaped. “What am I going to tell Jason?” She shook her head, looking up at Tawny. “He really wanted to get married in the same church as his parents, especially since they’re gone. It’d be like having them there with us.”

Puh-lease. Jason’s parents married in front of a court clerk, but Ivan didn’t know that tidbit. Going by the pained look on his face, he was falling for the dramatics. Head over heels.

They needed to play this right. Even Neanderthals had feelings. No point crushing his. Almost as important, she didn’t want the story getting back to her mom. Cherry let out a little hiccup-sob before dropping her head down into her palms. Drama Queen much? The good part was it had the desired effect on Ivan. He stepped back, eyes darting back and forth. Probably looking for the nearest escape route. Men simply didn’t do tears well.

He reached out to Tawny, letting his hand drop before making contact. “Weddings are important. I will leave you to your friend and we can continue our discussion later. Dinner Friday night. I will pick you up at seven.”

The man didn’t ask, he assumed. Never big on alpha types, his presumption she’d be free made all the hairs on the back of Tawny’s neck stand. Her mother would be ecstatic if she said yes, and she’d be engaged by the end of the first course.
Sorry, Mom, going to have to let you down this time.

“Friday’s not good for me. Maid of honor duties,” she added quickly. “I’ll call you.” She purposely left off the when. This way she didn’t have to lie or break a promise.

Cherry let out a sniffle. With a curt nod, Ivan shut his mouth and left in a haste. Waiting until he left, Tawny let out a deep sigh.

“You deserve cake for your performance, girlfriend. What’ll it be? It’s on me.”

“Lemon chiffon and vanilla chai tea. Then you can tell me why you wanted Mr. Drop Dead Gorgeous with the chocolate eyes to leave.”

Tawny ordered Cherry’s cake and two chocolate éclairs for herself.
Their duty
.
Three kids
. Yeah, she deserved a double-dessert day. What was her mother thinking?
Ay ay ay
. Granted, he was good-looking and had a great body and a wonderful job. What about love?

She sat back down with the treats, took one look at her friend, and started laughing. Belly laughing until tears streamed down her face. “One word for you . . . duty.”

“What kind of duty are we talking about? It’s his duty to worship your body until you scream? Or it’s your duty to keep his clothes clean, dishes done, and food on the table when he walks through the door?”

“To give him and his parents babies. Lots of babies like his sisters.”

“Oh. Ooh. I liked my first idea better. You’d have to admit, practice getting to his goal had some potential.”

“Yeah, up until he mentioned the four-letter word, I had thought about staying.” She let the smooth chocolate cream soothe her senses. “Hey, what took you so long anyway?”

“Well, my emergency was sort of real. The place I had my heart set on called me while I was waiting. They really did overbook. Now I have to start looking again. Thankfully, I had a list of alternative locations, and I’ve already got an appointment for next Saturday.” She toyed with her cake, making little stabs at it.

“But?” Tawny asked.

“Jason and I were supposed to meet the baker for cake testing. I need you and Dave. Please don’t say no. I know he drives you a little crazy, but he’s Jason’s best friend and best man. We trust you two to pick out a cake flavor we’d be happy with. Say you’ll do it.”

Freaking fantastic. From Ivan to David, you couldn’t get more of a one-eighty. How was she supposed to get the guy out of her mind now? What if he decided to belatedly take her up on her drunken offer? Especially after the three-legged race? Thank goodness Cherry hadn’t asked them to taste-test champagnes.

Her phone buzzed. Seeing the unknown number on the display screen, Tawny hesitated to read the message. What if it was Ivan with more demands? Or what if her mom had picked up another stranger in the personal hygiene aisle? With a here-goes attitude, she pressed the envelope icon.

Would love for you to start Monday. 8 am. Luanne Spinelli
.

Hot damn. One problem solved.

Dave turned down the heat on the grill, laid out six hamburger patties, and cranked the tunes. The place didn’t look the same. Cherry had added her touch to his and Jason’s shared backyard. A couple of flower beds with a figurine or two and a bird feeder, nothing over the top or too girly, just enough to make the place feel like a home instead of a way station. Soon it would be her backyard too. Even with the Victorian split and him and Jason having their own space, he’d started to feel like a third wheel. Maybe it was time to look for a new place, something bigger he could call his own?

For now it was just him, his grill, and no demands. Jason and Brody would be out any minute. For a little while he could pretend life was as it always had been, the three of them together, giving each other shit and watching their backs. No responsibility, no cares, unlike now. The B&B project had kept him busy, which he didn’t mind as it kept his brain off of a certain brown-eyed beauty. He didn’t need the distraction, sweet as it may be. Too much rode on this job.

“Hey, Fubar, you got those burgers cooked yet,” Jason called out as he joined him on the patio and handed him a beer.

“Did I say they’re ready?” Dave snapped back at him. Shit, what was wrong with him?

“No problem, man. Brody stopped by his mom’s today. She hooked us up with her homemade salsa. We’ll chow down on some chips while you man the grill.”

Brody stepped out, took one look at the two of them, shook his head, and sat at the table. He propped his feet up and dug into the chips. Around mouthfuls he asked, “What did I miss? You two have a lover’s spat?”

Dave took a handful of chips, dug into the salsa, and headed back to the BBQ. “Nah, just Cupid nagging, as usual.”

“Where did you disappear to Sunday? I stopped by to see if you wanted to join a pickup game of lacrosse.” Brody joined him at the grill. Nudging Dave aside, he took the spatula and pushed the burgers around.

“If you cook them any longer they’re going to be hockey pucks,” Jason chimed in.

“You’re the one that turns everything black. Stick with your bread and wine making. Leave the grill to the real chef here.” Dave took the spatula back and slid the patties onto a waiting plate. “I had a thing with Tawny.”

The three guys gathered around the table, quiet as they chowed down on burgers and chips. Dave’s cooking skills wouldn’t get him on
Iron Chef
, but if it went on the grill he could compete against the masters.

“She finally caved and went out with you?” Jason pushed his empty plate away, a knowing smirk on his face.

What did Mr. Know-it-all know now?

“I’m hurt. You doubted my ability?”

“Doubted you had the balls to ask her out again after all of the times she cut you off at the knees.” Brody finished off his meal and joined in.

If Dave thought either really meant their comments, he’d tell them to pack sand. As it was, they were just giving as good as he had in the past and would again in the future. “She had a work thing she needed a friend to go to with her. No big deal.”

Jason snapped his bottle cap between his fingers, sending it sailing straight into the trash can. “Ah, that explains today if it was just a friend thing.”

“Explains what about today?”

“The blind date.” Jason scooped up another mouthful of salsa.

Blind date? His gut clenched as the air left his lungs. Jason might as well have sucker punched him. He rubbed the heel of his palm across his chest to loosen the tightness.

“You didn’t know?” Brody asked.

“I’m her friend, not her warden.”

“Sorry, dude. Thought she would have mentioned it. If it makes you feel any better, her mom set it up.” Jason said.

Dave rolled his shoulders. “How’s that better? She’s out with another guy.”

“Yeah, but she took Cherry along. I’m guessing to act as her lifeline in case he was a nut job. Tawny didn’t sound too thrilled when the two of them were talking.”

The tightness in Dave’s chest lessened a bit.

“Probably to appease her mom. Guess she got in the doghouse Sunday when it came out she got fired and hadn’t told her family.” Brody walked over, started scraping the brush across the grill, cleaning it.

“How the hell do you know that?” Dave asked Brody, but looked to Jason for an explanation.

Jason shrugged his shoulders and held up his hands.

Brody, finished with the grill, gathered up all the trash from dinner and tossed it before sitting down. Out of the three of them, Brody was the neatest. Everything in its place and no rest until the place was ship tight. The habit grew from an overbearing ass of a father who liked to get his point across with fists and whatever weapon happened to be handy at the time.

“Ran into George yesterday and he filled me in.”

“Didn’t she tell them about the job interview?” Maybe he should have taken her up on the invitation to her parents’ home? He could have run interference.

“Didn’t say. I’m guessing no, plus, based on his comments, the old argument of her being single and working came up. Seems Mama Torres is determined to marry off her youngest and procure more grandkids.”

And maybe it was a good thing he didn’t go. Getting to know Tawny better and spending time with her was great and all, but marriage? Kids? Not what he had planned for his near future. Someday, maybe, sure. Maybe when he hit his forties, after he did some traveling and sowed his wild oats.

“Hey, Dave, how’s the work on the B-and-B coming along?” Jason asked.

Dave drummed his fingers on the tabletop as he ran the week through his head. Nothing major had gone wrong yet, and as of right now they were still on track to finish on time. Of course, with every corner you turned in a rehab project, the odds changed, sometimes in your favor and more often than not, against. “Good. The team’s on it.”

“Good, because we picked up another job today. Smallish job. Pastor Perky called today. He’s got a parishioner who’s due home from a nursing home in a couple of weeks and the family needs the house outfitted. Ramps up to the front and back doors, bathroom makeover, that sort of thing. I told him we’d work it in between and around the current projects we’ve got going on. You down with that?”

As if he didn’t have enough going on now. “Yeah, sleep and social lives are overrated anyway.” And there went the odds in the opposite direction of his favor.

Chapter Seven

S
ix days after starting her new job, Tawny couldn’t decide if her desk looked like a bakery display case or like someone had died.

The second-floor office overlooked a flower garden at the back of NE Event Solutions. The windows slid open, allowing honest-to-God fresh air in, instead of recycled, germ-infested oxygen. Although right now, the row of welcome plants and flowers the staff had dropped off blocked her access. She loved it. Everyone had gone out of their way to make her feel like part of the family. People had invited her to lunch, dropped off their business cards with instructions to call, text, or mail anytime she had a question. They had popped in every time they walked past her office, asking if she needed anything. And to drop off gifts. Not just for her, but mostly for David.

On her way back to her office after making one trip to the car to drop off a teddy bear with a balloon attached, a chocolate cake, and a case of beer, she’d stopped by the copy room for a box. At this rate she’d be running back and forth for an hour to load up David’s goodies. She carefully placed an apple pie, two bottles of wine, a loaf of raspberry-banana bread, and a hummingbird cake (whatever that was) in the box when Mrs. Spinelli popped in.

“Oh good, I caught you.” The lady sat a plastic tub full of cookies (most likely those mouthwatering, delectably sinful, evil chocolate chip ones that had caused Tawny to gain two pounds) on the desk. “Monday I’d like you to start working with Kerri on the DeSalvo wedding. Repeat client, mother of the bride called today to set up the first meeting and advise that they have set a firm budget of two-fifty and will not pay a cent more.”

“Two hundred and fifty dollars?”

“Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

Tawny’s jaw dropped and bounced off the desk. A quarter of a million bucks for one day out of your life. Not that she wasn’t grateful to get a chance to work on a big-ticket event right out of the gate, she could just think of better uses for the money. She might be an event planner now, but clearly her brain was still hanging with the financial peeps.

The thoughts must have showed on her face, as Mrs. Spinelli chuckled. “I know, such a waste, especially when most marriages last a year, maybe two tops. They might stand a chance if they moved away from her family. It may seem cruel, assigning you to the Queen of Momzil-las for your first gig. If you can handle Camellia’s wedding, you can handle anyone or any event.”

Tawny nodded her understanding. She’d dealt with her fair share of difficult customers at the bank—everything from low-income applicants being turned down for loans to trophy wives having their credit card cut off by their husbands. “Thank you, I won’t let you down.”

Mrs. Spinelli walked to the door, turning in the entrance. “Don’t thank me yet. Wait until you survive your first meeting, which is Monday. Six sharp, at the River Club Restaurant. Feel free to come in around noon to make up for the late night. Kerri will take lead on the event, but I expect you two to work as partners, so speak up and add your ideas.” She turned to go, then stopped and nodded toward the cookies. “Please extend my personal thanks to your young man. If it hadn’t been for him—” Her voice choked up. “I would have lost my son.”

Dave wanted to hang himself from Mrs. Beller’s third-floor landing. The week had been a living nightmare. Why did he think he wouldn’t fuck up this project? He’d fucked up everything he’d ever touched in his life.