Husband for Hire (2 page)

“Um, sure.” He came up to the bar separating the kitchen from the combination dining and living room. The counter was piled with paperwork. Around the room were a lot of moving boxes, taped shut.

“Did you just move in?” he asked.

“Five months ago,” she said, unwrapping the cheese plate. “I don't have much spare time. I'm gone more than I'm home, and it's not unusual for me to work twelve-hour days.”

“Julia didn't tell me anything about you. What kind of work do you do?” he asked.

“I'm vice president of operations and business development at Umbrella Masters, Inc. It's a computer cloud company.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

She had to explain what the business was so often, she'd memorized a response, which she recited as she poured two glasses of iced tea. “It's internet-based computing where our customers don't have to own the physical infrastructure but can rent usage from a third-party provider. Through the cloud, as it's called, the customer can use or borrow someone else's net work when they need it rather than buy it themselves. It saves the customers time, money and resources in a big way. It's a business still in its infancy, but it's creating serious revenue waves.”

“Do you like it?”

“I love it.”
I'm just exhausted all the time.
“I'm one of the founders, so the rewards of building some thing from the bottom up have been huge and satisfying.”

“What'd you do on your trip to Chicago?”

She spread some crackers on a plate, setting it
on the counter. “Negotiated a contract with a new vendor.”

“Successfully?” He carried the two plates as she took the glasses into the living room to put on the coffee table then sat down on the couch.

“Yes, very successful. Oh! I forgot the grapes.” She started to stand.

“I'll get them. If you don't mind?”

“No, that's fine. Thanks. They need to be washed.” Although she was hungry enough to eat the whole plate of food, she waited for him.

“How do you celebrate a success like that?” he asked from the kitchen, the water running, his voice suddenly seeming far away.

“Maybe with a vacation.” She nestled into the cushions a little and yawned. If she could only close her eyes for just a minute. Just a minute…. “I haven't gone anywhere in years because we were building the business. I've been dreaming about Hawaii….”

Gavin carried the grapes into the living room then noticed her eyes were closed.

He set down the plate. When she didn't budge, he inched closer. Asleep. She had to be completely worn-out to fall asleep in front of a stranger. He'd been that tired many times in his life. Too many. He resisted the temptation to move her shiny brown hair away from her face, where it had fallen.

Now what?

He carried the plate to the kitchen counter, moved some of her papers to the floor and then snacked a
little, feeling like an intruder. After a while he put the remainder in the refrigerator. His hands shoved into his pockets, he looked for a way to pass the time, but for all the stacks of reading material, everything seemed to be about business and computers, subjects that generally started him yawning.

He took out his cell phone and played Flight Control for a while but found he was too distracted by her to concentrate. She'd tucked her arms close to her slender body, as if chilled. He wondered if she needed a blanket over her.

Keeping an eye and ear open, he peeked hesitantly into the first doorway and discovered a bedroom, but it was crammed with boxes. The second door led to the master bedroom, which wasn't messy at all but lacked furniture. Without unmaking her bed, he didn't see a blanket, not even a decorative throw. He could go on a hunt, he supposed, but figured she wouldn't appreciate that.

Framed photographs drew him closer to her dresser. The largest frame held a picture of a couple in their wedding finery from years ago—her parents? There was a small candid shot of a maybe five-year-old Becca with the woman from the wedding photo, both wearing matching dresses. There was a newer shot of Becca seated in a red Ferrari convertible, waving both hands high in the air. Hers? Unlikely, given the cost of the car. Several other photos caught his eye, but he didn't take the time to look too closely, not wanting to get caught prying.

From all appearances, she seemed to be a successful woman accustomed to life's comforts, including a loving family. So, why the lie? Obviously she was exhausted, frazzled and disorganized—not endearing traits, at least for him. He liked women who had their act together.

And women who were honest.

She lived on easy street, and now she wanted someone to help her out of a jam she'd gotten herself into. By lying.

He wished he could just leave, but he waited her out. In the end, he needn't have worried about getting caught peeking. She slept for more than an hour, until the colorful sunset sky was framed by her floor-to-ceiling living-room windows, the view tempting enough to lure him onto the outdoor balcony.

But just then her eyes snapped open. She shoved herself upright, her dark brown gaze homing in on him, looking confused.

“Hungry?” he asked, not waiting for her answer, knowing she was embarrassed. He brought the plate to the coffee table. “I already ate,” he said, setting down an iced tea, as well.

He watched her stare at the food, saw the flush in her cheeks fade as her discomfort eased, then he told her the decision he'd made while she slept.

“I can't take the job. Good luck to you.”

He went straight to the door.

“W
ait! Please wait.” Feeling gut punched, Becca jumped up to stop him. They hadn't even had a conversation about the particulars of the job itself, and he was turning it down?

“We haven't talked yet,” she said.

“I know enough. I can see why you think you need a personal assistant or something,” he said. “But that's not why you went to At Your Service, is it? I can't play the part of a doting husband when I'm not. I'm sorry.”

The speed of his departure caught her off guard, as well as his judgmental tone. “You're here. You could at least hear me out.”

After a moment, he said, “You're right. I should
hear you out. It won't make me change my mind, Becca, but the floor's yours.”

He sat at one end of the sofa like a sculpture of the world's most perfect male, his arm stretched along the back, ankle crossed over one knee.

She should be figuring out what to say to him to change his mind, but instead she wondered how bad her hair looked. She'd had it cut to chin length recently, a style she thought would save her time, but which had ended up taking extra minutes to fix every morning.

Needing to pull herself together before saying anything more, she said, “Would you mind waiting a few minutes?”

A few beats passed, then he nodded, although he looked as if he wanted to sigh.

Becca shut the master-bedroom door behind her and leaned against it. He wasn't going to take the job. He was perfect, but he wouldn't be hers, not even for two days.

Unless she could change his mind. She'd been called tenacious but also sincere all her life. It was usually a winning combination. What did she have to lose?

She shoved her hair back from her face and headed into her bathroom then returned to the living room a few of minutes later with her armor on—her hair brushed and fresh lipstick applied. She'd seen in the mirror how tired she looked, so she tried to smile now, knowing that would help.

She also carried a picture frame. She sat next to Gavin and turned the photo around.

“These are my brothers,” she said. “Eric, Sam, Trent and Jeff. Eric is oldest. He's thirty-nine, and I'm the youngest. I'm thirty.” She set the frame on the coffee table facing Gavin. “They're coming to Sacramento on the Saturday after next to celebrate my wedding.”

“Which you didn't have.”

“That's true. But they need to think I did.”

“Why?”

“Because Eric—” she pointed to him in the photograph “—won't get married until I do. Actually I think it's possible that all four of them are waiting for me to marry first.”

“That's ridiculous.”

“I know it seems so, and certainly Eric has never confirmed it as fact, but he loves kids and he wants to be married. I know he does.”

“Why would his getting married have anything at all to do with you?”

“Because he won't give up feeling responsible for me until he's satisfied I'm being taken care of by a husband.”

“You do realize how archaic that sounds, don't you?”

“Of course. But our circumstances are unusual. You see, our parents died when I was thirteen. My brothers took over raising me. It was a group project, but Eric was the patriarch and he always had the last
word.” She traced a finger across the glass. “They love me. I've never doubted it for a second.”

“But?”

“But they also smothered me with that love, Eric most of all. He's been by far the most overprotective. I know there are worse things in life to complain about. I'm lucky in so many ways.”

“Do they live close?” he asked.

“No. In fact they're scattered around the country, but they remain in solidarity when it comes to me. It kills them that I'm living alone in a big city.

“And now that I've turned thirty, their desire to get me married and settled has intensified. Are your parents like that?”

“I'm pretty sure it doesn't matter to them. Although maybe my father would like the Callahan name to continue.”

“How old are you?” she asked.

“Thirty-four. And nowhere close to marriage. What do you think is behind Eric's need to see you settled down?”

“This is purely speculation on my part, but it's almost as if his job won't be done until then.”

“So you're feeling pressure to marry because you want him to do the same?”

“Not just him, but all my brothers, I think. I owe them a lot, Gavin, a whole lot, but Eric most of all. He was twenty-two when our parents died. He'd just graduated from college and would've been off to new places and adventures. Instead he stayed and took
care of us. We all went to college. He made sure of that. We're all successful.”

“Professionally,” Gavin said.

“Meaning?”

“Well, none of you have married, yet you're all in your thirties. Seems that out of five siblings, at least one would've taken the plunge.”

Her back stiffened. “Now you see my dilemma. Besides, that's an odd statement from someone who's thirty-four and happily declares he's nowhere close to marriage himself. Don't you consider yourself successful?”

“I'm not the one looking for a pretend spouse.”

He had a point. She stacked some cheese and crackers, giving herself something to do with her hands. “Well, I can't speak for my brothers, but I feel not only professionally successful, but personally, as well. I've been happy with my life. For the most part.”

She saw him look around her loft, as if reminding her how scattered her life had become. Now, she never invited anyone to visit other than Suki, yet at one time years ago, her home had been party-central.

“So, what are you looking for in a one-weekend husband?” he asked.

“Attentiveness,” she answered hopefully.

He laughed.

She smiled. “Seriously, I do have a plan. My brothers are flying in on Saturday morning and leav
ing Sunday afternoon. Your job would be to convince them we're really married, that you're the real deal, you know? A man who loves me. So, what I need is an actor, although this play is live-action. You need to be able to improvise in a believable way.”

He eyed her thoughtfully. “Why did you choose that particular course of action?”

Becca tucked her feet under her, facing him. She had to be honest or the situation wouldn't work. He needed to know everything—even though she was going to look foolish. She could only hope he would take pity on her.

“My brothers have an annoying habit of setting me up with blind dates, a situation that has intensified in the past couple of years. How they come up with these guys is a mystery, especially long distance, but one brother or another sets me up every few months. Every one of these guys is an extreme Alpha male, by the way, just like my brothers. I finally made up a boyfriend. A doctor,” she added, trying not to seem too embarrassed by her actions. “I knew he would need to be very successful in order to be found satisfactory. Then they started planning visits here to meet my boyfriend, so I pretended he was part of the Doctors Without Borders organization and sent him out of the country.”

Gavin looked surprisingly amused. “It's hard to imagine being able to pull that off for any length of time.”

“I know. I didn't think it through. I can be…
impulsive.” Which didn't describe her logical and methodical business persona, but did describe her in many other ways. “Eric didn't buy it. After a couple of trips to see me and meet the mysterious boyfriend who was always out of the country, he called my bluff.”

She took a sip of her now watered-down iced tea. “My friend Suki and I were out to dinner when Eric called to set me up with yet another blind date. It was the same old argument, with me saying I already had a boyfriend and Eric saying he didn't believe it. Suki said, ‘Tell him you eloped.' So I did.”

Gavin still looked amused, so she relaxed a little.

“Which Eric also didn't buy,” Gavin said. “Because as close as you are, he knows you wouldn't leave him out of your wedding plans.”

She nodded. The hurt in Eric's voice still haunted her. “I told him that my husband had been about to leave on a particularly dangerous assignment, and we wanted to marry before he went. I can't tell you how much I regretted the lie—
still
regret it. But in the end it served two important purposes. It got my brothers off my back about getting married, which I will do in my own way and time, and it opened the door for them to stop worrying about me and move on with their own lives.”

“I still find it hard to believe they haven't married because you haven't.”

“I know it seems like I'm reaching, but you don't
understand what happens when you lose both your parents at the same time, especially at such young ages. It created an unusual bond between us as siblings.”

“And yet you don't feel you can be honest with them.”

“I get that you probably think I'm crazy—or worse. Certainly I could've set things right since I made up the marriage. I could even pretend to get a quick annulment, but that would give my brothers free rein to start in again, and wouldn't accomplish what I want most of all—for them to put themselves first for once, especially Eric.”

Gavin picked up her iced-tea glass and headed into the kitchen. What was he thinking? Had she been too honest? Did she seem pathetic?

He returned in a minute with a fresh glass, ice cubes clinking, and handed it to her. He must have needed a moment to take it all in.

This made her hopeful. Except he didn't sit down again.

“I admit I don't understand your connection with your brothers,” he said. “My family life didn't and doesn't resemble yours in the least. I don't identify with your bond, not to the point of creating such a lie. And even though it sounds somewhat intriguing, you need to find someone else. I'm sorry. Good luck, Becca. Goodbye.”

He walked out, pulling the door shut quietly behind him. The moment it closed she felt as if she
were drowning in a silent pool of disappointment and, well, shame. His saying it all out loud
did
make her seem pathetic. Maybe no one else could ever understand the obligation she felt to her brothers, especially Eric.

Becca let out the breath she'd been holding. She picked at the food but had lost her appetite, so she cleaned up the dishes then carried her suitcase into her bedroom to unpack. Her eyes stung. She sat on the bed and tried not to cry.

What a mess she'd created for herself.

 

Gavin took the elevator to the basement-level parking and headed for the visitor parking. He couldn't believe he'd even entertained the idea of taking the job—even for Shana. What had he been thinking?

And yet…he was intrigued. Maybe because he'd watched her sleep, as vulnerable as a child. She'd lost the mother in the photo with the matching dress. She'd been left with domineering brothers who obviously adored her, even if they didn't acknowledge her as an independent adult.

But was that any reason to lie? Couldn't she just stand up for herself?

He reached his car but didn't unlock it. She'd also wanted a doctor. He laughed a little, the sound echoing in the concrete structure. He hadn't bothered to tell her he was a doctor—one on a break for who knew how long. He wasn't even sure he wanted
to continue in medicine, not after what he'd been through.

If he did the job for her he would have to take down his Facebook page….

Dammit. Why couldn't he just let it go?

He knew the answer. Because spending time with a scattered woman could be a good distraction right now while he made some life decisions.

Or, more likely, drive him crazy.

He climbed into his car, slid the key in the ignition. Really, why should he do it?

First, he recognized a workaholic when he saw one. He'd driven himself too hard, too, for reasons he'd never stopped to analyze beyond the usual escape-from-a-small-claustrophobic-town need that many young people feel after high school when the future is a blank canvas.

He certainly hadn't experienced the deep family ties she had, but he understood how important they were to her.

Second, he liked her. More than that—he was attracted to her, which could be problematic in the long run.

Third, as Shana had reminded him, he had no life at the moment.

Fourth, and maybe most important, he needed to feel needed.

After a minute, he started the engine, his mind made up. All the reasons he'd listed were self-serving. They were about him, not her.

And it really should be about her.

Just as abruptly, he turned off the ignition. He'd left with barely a goodbye, bordering on rudeness, which wasn't like him. For her sake he would go back and talk to her, explain why he was the wrong person, tell her the kind of person she should be looking for instead. One who wouldn't be in it for his own selfish purposes.

He owed her that much, and Shana and Julia, too. He didn't want to give the agency a bad rap.

Right. That was why he was going back upstairs to see Becca Sheridan.

 

Becca was back at square one, and she really didn't want to go through the process of explaining herself again, especially since telling him the story had let her see how truly pitiable it was.

Aside from that, Gavin had intrigued her, especially his integrity. She was offering a lot of money for a day and a half's work, and he hadn't jumped at it, which said something. He wouldn't take the job just for the money.

She had to take his lead and tell the truth. It was too late to call Eric tonight, but first thing in the morning—

Her doorbell rang.

Suki. She'd forgotten to call her. And now she'd find Becca looking red and puffy after a good, long crying jag. Becca didn't want to talk, not even to her best friend in the world, but she figured Suki might
call the police if she didn't get an answer, worried that the “candidate” had harmed her in some way.