The Substitute (7 page)

Megan’s grandmother plopped in the seat next to his and studied him. “You’re not what I expected.”

He swallowed, keeping his gaze on Nicole, whose posture was finishing-school straight as she stood in front of the sliding glass doors. Nicole Vandemeer hadn’t been what he’d expected either. “Oh?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant. “How so?”

“Your smile.”

Josh blinked in surprise. “What does that mean?”

“Megan may not talk to her mother very often, but she talks to me. She tries to make out that everything’s okay, but something in her voice tells me otherwise.”

Josh stared at her, unsure of what to say.

Her grandmother patted his hand. “I’m glad you smile. Megan needs more smiles.” She cast a frown toward Megan’s mother, the older woman’s daughter.

Bart had just pulled up, saving him from answering. Josh tried to wake Megan and managed to hoist her to her feet, albeit unsteadily, for long enough to get her strapped into a seat in the SUV. The whole time she kept mumbling something about gingerbread houses. The derisive looks Nicole kept casting at her made him want to avenge her in some way. But that wasn’t his purpose for being here and it definitely wasn’t his problem.

Now, several hours later, as he stood in her bathroom doorway while she prepared for whatever social function the queen had organized, he realized he still felt that way. He wanted to help Megan—and not just because of what she could do for him.

“Go look at the itinerary,” she said, swiping mascara on her upper eyelashes. “We need to know what we’re facing down there.”

He walked over to the dresser and picked up one of two bound binders. The cover was inscribed with the words
The Wedding of Megan and Jay
in bold calligraphy. One booklet had
Megan
written in the upper right corner and the other read
Jay
.

He opened the book on top—Jay’s—and flipped through the pages. The next three days were strictly regimented with a minute-to-minute schedule and detailed descriptions of all the activities. The entries were color-coded with highlighters, and there was a corresponding color key at the bottom of the first page.

Oh. My. God.

But even worse was the fact that Mrs. Vandemeer had booked most of the next three days of his life. How was he going to find the evidence he needed if he was required to be at all the places listed on those pages?

“Well?” Megan called out to him. “What is it?”

Oh, God. Friday morning he was scheduled for a men’s mani-pedi.
Who did that?

“Josh!”

“Uh…” Terror washed through his body. What in the hell had he gotten himself into? “Uh…” He scanned the page. “Oh, your mom told me about this one. Seven p.m. Poolside cocktail party.”

“
A cocktail party?
”

“Yeah…”

“Shit.”

He looked over his shoulder at her, still in the binder’s horrific thrall. “Is that bad?”

She stopped applying her mascara and glanced over at him. “It’s not good. Do you have nice clothes? A dress shirt and a tie?”

He blinked. “Yeah.”

“Really?”

He shot her a sideways glare. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She stormed out of the bathroom and squatted next to her suitcase before glancing up at him. “What are you waiting for?”

He tossed the binder on the dresser, then hefted his overnight bag onto the bed and unzipped it.

Megan came over, holding a pale blue dress, and started to dig through his clothes.

“Hey!”

She tugged out a shirt. “The white shirt with the blue tie.”

“You’re
dressing
me?”

“You want to sign up for this gig, it’s part of it. She’ll expect us to be color-coordinated. Did the itinerary say if there was a color scheme?”

“
A color scheme?
” He shook his head. “God, no.”

“Good. Get dressed.” She left him standing at the foot of her bed as she disappeared behind the bathroom door.

He could wear his jeans with the shirt and tie, but suspected Megan’s mother would flip her lid. And while that would be amusing to say the least, he needed to stay on her good side, at least until he found his evidence. He dug a pair of dress pants out of his bag and set them on the bed, waiting for Megan to emerge from the bathroom so he could change. He heard Nicole’s muffled voice calling from downstairs.

“Megan!”

He decided not to wait for the bathroom to be free. His goal was to charm Nicole Vandemeer and so far, he was succeeding. No need to be late for the first event on her endless schedule. He stripped off his shirt and slipped an arm into one of the sleeves of the button-down shirt as the bathroom door opened.

Megan stood in the doorway in a light blue sundress and he stopped dressing, his second arm partially in the sleeve.

The sight of her sucked his breath away. Megan Vandemeer was a stunningly beautiful woman. And Jay Connors was a fool.

They stared at each other for several seconds before she looked away.

“You can use the bathroom now,” she mumbled, her cheeks flushing.

“Thanks.” But he stayed in place, pulling his shirt on the rest of the way and starting to button it.

Her gaze moved to the bed and then to his face. “Keep the jeans.”

“But I figured your mother would have a fit.”

Megan glanced up at him through long dark eyelashes, a mischievous grin lighting up her face. “She’ll hate it. That’s why you should wear them.”

“So you
want
me to piss your mother off? After you freaked out about upsetting her?”

“That’s different,” she said, picking up his tie off the bed. “You get to make an exit from this horror show. I have to live with her for at least another thirty years.”

She looped the tie around his neck and in that instant he knew he was in deep, deep shit. He forced his breathing to remain normal even though his heart raced. Did she even know how sexy she was right now, knotting his tie at the base of his throat?

She finished her task and appraised him. “I guess you’ll do.”

“You
guess?
”

She turned her attention to her suitcase and started digging around for something.

“We need a story,” he forced out.

“What?”

“People are going to ask questions. We need to tell them the same thing. Does your family know how you met your fiancé?”

She turned her head and gave him a wry grin. “So you acknowledge his existence now?”

He almost laughed out loud. How he’d enjoyed riling her up about her fake fiancé.

“You showed me his blurry picture, right? But I still question his existence, if only based on the fact that the man has to be an idiot of epic proportions.” Why did he admit that?
Focus, Josh. Focus
. There was only a week left until everything was lost. He needed to do what he’d come here to do and that was it.

She glanced down. “No. They hardly know anything.”

“So how did we meet?”

“Friends set us up.”

“Where was our first date?”

“At Six Seven Restaurant, overlooking the sound.”

“Classy
and
romantic. And how did our first date go?”

She stood, holding a pair of sandals in her hand. She flashed him a teasing grin. “You were smitten with me. I found you barely tolerable.”

He stared into her twinkling eyes as she looked up at him. “And did any of that really happen on your first date with your fiancé?”

Her smile faded, making him regret the question. “No. We met at a bar downtown for drinks. He declared us compatible. We each paid for our own tab and agreed to try dinner the next week.”

“Sounds very…calculated.”

“That’s Jay for you.”

He wasn’t sure how to respond. Based on what little he knew of her, he couldn’t imagine her happy with someone like that. “When did you guys move in together?”

“We didn’t.” He expected her to sound bitter. She only sounded resigned.

Rather than commenting, he moved on to the next question. “What do you do?”

She sat on the bed and slipped on her shoes. “I’m a fundraiser for an environmental nonprofit.” She glanced up, blowing away a strand of hair that fell in her face. “My mother finds it tacky that I’m paid to beg people for money. She says I could at least have chosen a well-respected cause. Suffice it to say, she wishes I would do something else.”

“I bet.”

“They know Jay’s an investment banker…that he works long hours.”

“What else did you tell them about Jay…ahem…I mean me?”

She smiled slightly as she stood, brushing out her skirt. “That you bought a condo in downtown Seattle overlooking the sound because it was a good investment. I was going to move in after the wedding. You’re from Seattle. You have one brother and two parents… Oh, and they aren’t coming to the wedding.”

“Why not?” he asked, astounded.

“They booked a cruise and got the wedding date mixed up. They would have lost nearly ten thousand dollars.”

He whistled. “Damn, it must be some cruise…”

“It’s a private yacht in the Mediterranean. And Mom had already booked the botanical garden, so she couldn’t change the date since we’re getting married in June. She was lucky she got the date at all.” Noticing his blank stare, she added, “That’s where the wedding and reception are. The Powell Gardens.”

“And my brother?”

“He’s not coming either. He couldn’t get away from work.”

“Wow. Was anyone from this jerk’s side coming to the wedding?”

She cringed. “A couple of friends. But obviously they aren’t coming now.”

From what Josh had heard he wasn’t surprised. What an ass. “Let’s try to stick together tonight. That way there’s less of a chance we’ll get our stories mixed up.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “Don’t you worry. I have no intention of leaving you alone. I have no idea what you are up to, but I’m going to keep an eye on you.”

He flashed her his charming smile and held his hands out from his sides. “I already told you; I’m trying to avoid my family drama.”

“By jumping into mine?” She sounded even more skeptical than before.

“Hey, anybody else’s family drama is preferable to your own. Besides,” he flashed her what he hoped was a beguiling grin, “I told you that this is mutually beneficial.”

“Part of me wants to believe you, but nobody goes to this much trouble for someone they hardly know.”

“Megan!” Her mother’s muffled voice called up the stairs and through the closed door, louder than before.

“Maybe I’m just a nice guy.”

She put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes as she studied him. “No. I don’t think so.”

He laughed. “You don’t think I’m nice?”

“Not in this. You’re up to something. But let me warn you,” she wrapped her fingers around his tie and pulled him closer until their faces were no more than a foot apart, “if you screw me over down there, I will make you suffer for the rest of your natural life. Do I make myself clear?”

The sight of her—her eyes wild and wicked with the promise of retribution—had the opposite effect of what she’d intended. His heart began to race and he had to restrain himself from closing the distance and kissing her. “Megan, I’m here to help you.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently rubbed the tense knots. “You need to relax.”

She released his tie and brushed his hands away. “I’ll relax after we’ve broken up. And we’re breaking up
tonight
.” And with that, she stormed out the door.

Oh, shit
.

Josh stopped her in the hallway. “Wait. Why are we breaking up tonight? I thought we were going to wait.”

She shook her head. She didn’t have time for this. Her mother was going to be plenty furious as it was. “My mother’s party is the perfect place—in front of all her friends. There will be tons of witnesses to see that I’m the innocent in this and you’re the jerk. There’s no way she can blame me.”

“Don’t you think you’re being hasty?”

And there it was again, the voice in her head that said something was screwy here. “You make it sound like you don’t
want
to break up. What the hell kind of family drama are you facing in Kansas City, anyway? It’s got to be pretty bad for you to throw your plans away and become my substitute fiancé. You don’t even know me. And don’t give me some bullshit answer.” She knew she could demand all she wanted, but she was at his mercy. She had no leverage in this negotiation whatsoever and they both knew it.

His eyes softened. “Have you have ever been in a situation where you couldn’t see a way out, so you gave up and left it to fate to work everything out?” His eyes widened in mock surprise. “Oh, wait. You
do
know what that’s like. You’re living it right now.”

Now he was just pissing her off.

He put his hands on her shoulders. “Believe it or not, that’s what’s going on with me too. You said I looked determined when I sat down on the plane. I came to Kansas City because my family business is a mess and I’m making a last-ditch effort to save it.”

When she didn’t answer, he continued.

“Megan, I sat down on that plane and realized I didn’t have a clue how to save my business. Then you waltzed into my life. I swear to you, I inadvertently told your parents I was your fiancé. But once your parents thought it was true, I figured what the hell? After all, you were in a messy situation too, and I had just given my life over to fate. I believe in karma. Maybe if I help you out, fate will help me out too.”

She had to admit that he was pretty convincing, but something was off. “If your business is really failing and you’re here to save it, why would you want to hang out at my parents’ cocktail party tonight?” Then she gasped. “Oh! You’re planning to sell your snake oil to my parents’ wealthy friends!”

“What?”

She poked her finger into his chest. “If you so much as hint that you aren’t an investment banker, or you try to sell insurance or vacation timeshares or crappy Tupperware to my parents’ friends, I will make you suffer. Is that understood?”