Leo Maddox (26 page)

He chuckled and handed a mixed drink to a customer down the bar. When he returned, he looked as if he was waiting for me to say, “Gotcha,” but this was no joking matter. I waited for his response, and when it became clear I wasn’t messing around, the easy smile left his face.

“That's an odd request. Why me?”

I twirled a curl of my hair between two fingers—something I often did when under scrutiny—and tried to keep an even face. “I want something...um,
someone
different. Look, my reasons are kind of personal and I don't feel like getting into the details. I understand it's a lot to ask on such short notice, but I'm kind of desperate. Can you help me or not?”

“You're a pretty girl. I’m sure you've got the boys lined up. Besides, as you can see,” he said, indicating the dirty dive bar with a wave of one of his strong arms, “I'm kind of working.”

My eyes were having trouble leaving those arms. He certainly wasn’t a boy and I certainly wasn't after a boy. “I could pay you for your time. A couple hours, that's all I'm asking. Can you find someone to cover your shift? I'll wait if I have to.”

His jaw tightened, telling me his answer was ‘no.’

“Pretty please.”

“I can't,” he stated, his voice firm and unwavering. “I'm not an escort service.”

Shame
rose to my cheeks. He was right. I hadn't realized the insanity of my request until now. Did I really think I could pay a stranger to be my date? My life wasn't an eighties movie and this sure as heck wasn’t
Can't Buy Me Love.
This guy had morals. Where were mine?
Maybe it was because of his good looks, but I suddenly felt all the embarrassment I should have earlier.

“You're right, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have wasted your time.”

I turned tail and hurried for the exit, past all the lingering eyes, and back into the cool night air.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
As fast as my Jimmy Choos would allow, I raced to my Porsche 911, aka Baby, desperate to put Mike's Pub and Dean in my rearview mirror. But it wasn't my outlandish idea that bothered me so much, it was how quick Dean had turned me down. I'd known the guy for all of five seconds and somehow he'd gotten to me.

Digging for my keys with shaky hands, I dropped my purse and its contents onto the gravel.
Dang it!
I bent over to gather my things, put my purse back in order, and when I made it back on my feet, a cry of shock left my lips—Dean.

Taking no notice of the heart attack he'd just given me, he crossed his arms over his broad chest and said, “I could trade a favor for a favor.” Gone was the apprehension I'd seen moments ago and instead, amusement lingered on his lips. Was he bipolar or something? “Money turns me into a slut. A favor, that's different.”

“What? You'll do it?” I asked, though inwardly wondering if I even still
wanted
him as my date. This guy just took confusing to a whole new level.

“That's what I just said.”

I cocked an eyebrow at him. “What kind of favor?”

He shrugged. “One to be redeemed at a later date.”

“What exactly does
that
mean?”

“It means I don't know what I want right this moment. Nothing sexual or illegal, of course.” He cocked
his
eyebrow at me. “But maybe later I'll want something in return. Does that sound fair to you?”

I stared up at his face and tried to decipher his motives. He wasn't just some backwoods country bumpkin. He was smart—smarter than his bartending job might lead one to believe. I could tell that much from the moment he first opened his mouth.

“You want me to cash you a blank check?”

“When you put it that way, you make me sound like some sleazy politician. But yes, I want a blank check. Those are my terms.”

“Nothing sexual or illegal, right?”

As he nodded, I realized that I was fine with the whole favor-for-a-favor thing, and I certainly wouldn’t complain if I had to see him again in the future. So at this point, we were just wasting time.

“Deal.” I jutted out my hand out for him to shake. “One favor to be redeemed at a later date.”

“Deal,” he said, taking my hand in his. “Pleasure doing business with you, Miss Maggie Ryder.”

AN HOUR HAD PASSED since I made my agreement with Dean and I'd spent every minute of it waiting. Waiting for him to find a replacement to cover his shift at the bar. Waiting for him to make a random phone call—probably to a girlfriend or something. Waiting for him to shower and change into some decent clothes. After what seemed like forever, he finally came out of his apartment and got in my car.

“You're worse than a girl,” I mumbled, shifting into gear and pulling away from his rundown apartment complex.
Who knew hiring a date would be so much work?
Trying to make up for the lost time, I drove my car like I stole it, pressing heavily on the gas and zipping down the empty streets. We were so late, I wasn't even sure if it was still worth going.

“Beauty takes time,” he said smugly. “Besides, you didn't want me going in my smelly clothes from the bar. And you've got to admit, I do clean up rather nicely.”

He looked so cramped in the small space of the Porsche that I couldn't help but smile. And he was right; he did clean up well. Maybe even a little
too
well. He now wore a black suit, white dress shirt, and a black tie. All of it non-designer. All of it simple. But I doubted anything ever looked simple on this guy. He could make a paper bag look good, but the suit was more appropriate for the occasion.

The fresh scent of soap and mint filled the air between us, causing me to momentarily forget everything else. I caught myself sneaking glimpses of him out of the corner of my eye and urged said eye to stay on the road. Fortunately, a potentially embarrassing situation was interrupted by a voice belonging to the object of my not-so-stealthy observations.

“Out of curiosity, who should I be thanking for the pleasure of your company tonight?”

I'd been waiting for him to ask this question. It sure took him a while to get around to it. “My friend Anita, who is also the manager at the club’s restaurant. She told me about you.”

“I don't know an Anita. Should I?”

“She didn't she say she knew you personally. She just knew
of
you. Or had seen you around town…or something to that effect.” I flipped the gear stick down into second as I rounded a tight corner. We'd be at Dad's country club in less than a minute. My nerves started to creep in on me now that we were getting so close. Would tonight be a horrific failure or a brilliant success? Everything hinged on the stranger seated next to me.

“What all did this Anita person tell you?”

“Not much. Just that you were handsome, wild, a local, and that people would notice you. I can't remember the exact details.”

He chuckled low to himself. “Wild? Interesting description. Are you hoping for a taste of my wild side, Maggie?”

“We're here,” I announced, completely avoiding his question.

The car jolted to a stop as we pulled into the valet parking zone, and a wave of nausea hit me like a punch to the stomach. I'd been wrapped up in the conversation with Dean, but now that we were here, all I could think about was my impending doom.

“Oh God, I don't know if I can do this,” I thought aloud.

“You can,” he said, his voice sounding kind. “Trust me, you'll be fine.”

I didn't know him well enough to trust him. And he'd only just met me so I'm not sure why he seemed so convinced I could do this. Going inside meant I'd be facing Andrew Wellington—my ex—and a major reason as to why I'd gone searching for Dean in the first place. I dated Andrew my senior year of high school and throughout the past three years of college. We did the long-distance thing, which seemed to work for us, and I figured we'd be together forever. Then he dumped me last semester and I learned that our whole relationship had been nothing more than a colossal waste of time. He'd be here tonight.

But the icing on the cake was Clara—his brand new girlfriend. Her betrayal hurt more than anything Andrew could have ever put me through, and she was the real reason I needed a person like Dean at my side. I think I'd be fine never seeing Andrew again, but I had to prove to everyone that Clara couldn't hurt me. More importantly, I had to prove to Clara that she couldn't hurt me.

“Maggie?” Dean asked. I guess I must have zoned out there for a moment. “Did you hear me, Maggie? Are you okay?”

I gulped, watching as the valet guy—Kevin—came hurrying toward my car. “Yeah, peaches,” I muttered without thinking, “just peaches.”

“Peaches? Don't you mean ‘peachy’ instead?”

I didn't answer him but jumped out of the car, followed by Dean. Without hesitation, I handed over my keys to Kevin and gave him a quick hug. He was one of Dad's loyal employees and I'd known him for years. Kevin drove my car away and I hurried for the door. Ready or not—this was it.

“Wait.” One strong hand wrapped around my arm, forcing my determined stride to a halt.

“We're already late, Dean.” My voice came out rather shaky. “Can't it wait until we're inside?” I squirmed, trying to shake off his grip, but it was no use. Dean had a firm hold on me and wasn't letting go.

“Look at me, please,” he demanded.

“No. Let. Go.”

“Sorry, but not until you look at me first.”

I twisted and turned, but he still wouldn't budge. What was his problem? Now heated, I glared up at him. At five foot nothing, I had to crook my neck just to get a good look at his face, and I was surprised to find that something protective shown in his eyes.

“You should take a breath,” he said in a soft voice. “Calm down for a moment. You're so distracted that you're blind to what's right in front of you. I don't know who your boyfriend is, what the bastard did to hurt you, or why you thought I'd be the solution to all your problems, but you need to calm down before you go inside.” His words were sincere, hardly expected from a big guy like him.

“Ex,” I corrected.

“Who cares? A woman in a red dress came into my bar tonight, and never in my life had I seen someone with so much confidence or command over a room. Where is that woman now? Get it together, Maggie. I know you're stronger than this.”

He stood over me, unmoving, while his relentless eyes continued to hold my gaze. I took in a couple of deep breaths, trying to decide if I should be flattered or angry by his comments. Never before had I been spoken to like that—at least not by a stranger. His honesty was brutal and I finally landed on angry.

“I'm fine,” I assured him through gritted teeth. “You can let go now. And don't ask any more questions because I'm done answering them. Peaches?”

“I still don't understand what that means.”

“It means let go of my arm—please.”

I yanked away and this time, he let me break free without a fight. It had been a mistake bringing him. A big one, I decided. I couldn't believe Dean had the audacity to grab me in public like that. No one had seen us—everyone was inside—but still. I rushed for the door, planning to leave him outside, but he kept close as if nothing strange had just happened, walking inside with me.

“Since you're still determined to be my date, there's one last thing you need to know,” I whispered to him as we entered. “My ex, Andrew Wellington, will be here tonight with his new girlfriend. Oh, and just a head’s up…his new girlfriend is my twin.”