Bridesmaid for Hire

by Chance Carter

  Anyway, it was over. Max and I would probably never have another moment like that again, and while the thought made me sad, it was also a bit of a relief. I didn’t think I could be that close to him again and come out intact.

  Chapter 9

  Max

  One second I was lost to the world, hidden behind a wall of bodies while I held the most beautiful girl in the club in my arms. The next second she was gone.

  I should have been less annoyed that Emma’s friend had come to steal her away from me. We hadn’t been acting professionally. All I’d wanted was to make her feel better, to wipe the sadness from her face. I couldn’t bear to see her so choked up about some loser who didn’t deserve her. Making her smile was the most intoxicating feeling. I was drunk on her, on the music, on the moment. And then she was gone.

  I stood on the dance floor a couple minutes longer than I should have after she left. I needed some time to collect my thoughts. Even though I knew it was wrong, and that I’d probably end up regretting it, I realized something under the flashing neon lights that I knew would haunt me if I didn’t act on it.

  I wanted her. I wanted to make her mine.

  “Hey!” someone shouted into my ear.

  I looked over, annoyed to see Jeremy standing next to me.

  “I struck out with that hippie chick,” he said.

  “I noticed.” Shoving my hands in my pockets, I began weaving my way back across the floor toward our table. I grabbed my jacket and tossed Jeremy his, draining the rest of my beer as I did.

  “We’re leaving?” Jeremy asked.

  “Yes.” I left no room for discussion. It was non-negotiable.

  Outside, Jeremy kicked a beer can and it went scuttling into the street. “She was smokin’ hot and seemed pretty into me. I thought for sure she was going to come home with me. Remind me to ask Emma what her friend’s deal is.”

  “You’re not going to inundate my assistant with your stupid personal questions.”

  I hailed a cab, and Jeremy slid in behind me.

  “What’s your problem?” he asked. “You’re being a dick.”

  I probably was being a dick but I didn’t care. I was irritated. I could have had Emma tonight. It probably wouldn’t have been wise, but wise didn’t factor into it anymore. There was something about her, something so magnetic and beautiful in her innocence. In many ways she seemed experienced, ready to conquer the world, but she was also so soft and vulnerable. I wanted to protect her from the pieces of scum out there like her ex-boyfriend. I wanted to keep her for myself. And at this point, it looked like the only thing stopping me from doing so was my own professional morals. If there was one thing I’d learned about myself over the years, it was that nothing stopped me from getting something I wanted—even myself.

  I dropped Jeremy off at his place before heading home. We didn’t speak much on the ride, but that had more to do with the restless energy that had doubled in intensity just below my skin since earlier this afternoon. Being so close to Emma and not having her had only made it worse.

  I remembered the way her eyes had filled with such deep sadness when she read that text in the club, and wondered if she could handle my desire. She was already so heartbroken, and I knew I could never give her what she wanted. I could give her what she needed, which was a hard fuck against the wall and my teeth in her neck, but I couldn’t be the groom on her wedding cake. Did it matter? It wouldn’t stop me. Nothing could stop me now.

  I started stripping off as soon as I entered my penthouse, dropping clothes down the hall as I went. It was too hot to be wearing clothes, and they itched at my skin something fierce. I imagined how soft her skin would feel, how her body would slide over mine and make me shudder with pleasure. I was naked when I reached my room, and my cock was swollen and throbbing with need. I pictured her as I lay across my bed and started to stroke my erection, imagined it was her mouth swallowing my cock instead of my own hand.

  She would look up at me innocently, in that way she always did, but I bet she was an expert cocksucker. If not, I could teach her. She was always so eager to please. My meat was heavy and hot in my hand. I increased the pressure and moved a little faster, and my hips naturally rolled up on the bed as my fantasy Emma sucked me down to the root and held me there, cheeks swollen with my girth. Fuck, she was hot.

  My hand went faster, and I pictured her rising up to kiss my chest and straddle me. Her hot pussy sinking down on my cock, gripping so tightly. I moaned, sweat prickling at my forehead. Her breasts would be perfect, round with puffy pink nipples that bobbed above me as she rode me into oblivion. I could almost feel her muscles squeezing me, milking me.

  Fuck. Yes.

  I was going to cum. Emma was going to make me cum.

  My balls tightened, and waves of pleasure buffeted me as I came all over my hand. I kept stroking myself, eking out every last bit of my pleasure. I was shaking, my chest heaving with the force of my breathing.

  It wasn’t the real thing, or even close to the real thing, but I would jack off to the thought of Emma any day. I just hoped I wouldn’t be jacking off to the thought of her forever. Sometime soon I would need to taste her, feel her.

  Someday very soon.

  Chapter 10

  Emma

  By the time Monday morning came around, I was happy that I hadn’t given in to my desire on Friday. I couldn’t imagine how awkward it would be to come in to work and see my boss, while the same time remembering the way his kiss had tasted. Coming in to work and remembering the way his body had felt under my wandering hands was embarrassing enough.

  I didn’t have much time to stew in this embarrassment, however, because as soon as I got to my desk I noticed a big bag of gourmet pretzels sitting on top of my keyboard. I frowned at them, wondering if somebody had misplaced part of their lunch. Then I saw the note.

  The little piece of paper was tucked under the corner of the bag, and I lifted it out to read it.

  Just in case.

  I knew right away that the pretzels were from Max, and was touched that he’d remembered my weird love of pretzels and Pinterest. It was an unexpectedly kind gesture, not because I thought he didn’t have it in him, but because I’d never expected him to take the time to remember something so trivial about me. He was surprising me with stuff like that a lot, lately. I would have never pegged him as a guy who pulled his new, awkward assistant up for a dance to make her feel better about a lousy ex, either. Maybe I needed to re-evaluate how I thought of him.

  I turned on my computer and put down my things, moving the pretzels to the side of my desk. I thought about opening them up right then and there, just because I could, but it was the morning and I wanted to save them for their true purpose. I knew that this time when I was sad and eating pretzels while Pinterest-ing, it would take less time than ever to feel better.

  I took a few minutes to settle in before I went to thank Max. I was still all fluttery from the dance on Friday, and now that he’d given me such a sweet gift I needed to gather myself a bit before I saw him. I could almost feel his presence behind the heavy oak door of his office. A couple days ago there’d been nothing between us but a few inches of empty air, and now it was like I was extra tuned into him. I wondered if he could sense me too. Was that crazy?

  Once I’d set everything up at my desk for the day, I couldn’t put it off any longer. Nervous or not, I needed to go thank Max for the gift. I wanted to go thank Max for the gift. I wasn’t entirely certain what I was going to say to him, but I’d figure it out. I just wanted to see him.

  I rose and started walking for the door. My hand was just resting on the handle when I heard a disturbance behind me. I turned out of curiosity and saw an elegant middle-aged woman with dark hair strutting down the rows of cubicles toward me, her heels clicking loudly. She walked with her head held high and her shoulders back, like a true aristocrat, and barely even glanced at the people she passed. The disturbance I’d heard was her kicking a trash can out of her way, e
videnced by the little black bin rolling in a semi-circle by the elevator.

  She was headed right for me. Or for Max, more likely than not. Was I supposed to stop her? Who was this woman?

  I walked back over to my desk, but stayed standing, greeting the woman with a friendly smile. She looked familiar somehow, but I couldn’t place her stormy blue eyes.

  “Hello, can I help you?” I asked.

  The woman narrowed her eyes and gave me a once over. “You must be Emma.”

  I recognized that voice. Instantly, it all clicked in. Who else could this woman be besides Paulina Westfield? I should have known from the way she walked—like she owned the place—and the cloud of expensive perfume now tickling my nostrils.

  “Mrs. Westfield, it’s so nice to finally meet you.” I extended a hand for her to shake, which she did with a claw-like grip.

  “Likewise, darling. I’ve been looking forward to seeing Haddie’s successor in person. However are you? And please, you know you can call me Paulina. I insist upon it.”

  Paulina and I had built quite the rapport over the phone these past two weeks. She’d been calling every couple of days, and loved to chat if her son wasn’t available—which he often was not.

  “I’m great, thanks. Did you have a nice weekend?”

  Paulina smirked. “You wouldn’t believe the weekend I had if I told you. Let’s just say I’m a little peaky this morning, and that’s the good news. It was a blast though, simply a blast.” She winked. “I’ve come to see my son, though, I’m afraid. Since he rarely takes my calls, I must take matters into my own hands.”

  “I’ll go check if he’s available.” I turned and walked to Max’s door, but I realized a moment too late that Paulina was following me.

  She cackled. “Oh, no need for that. If he’s not available, I’ll make him available. I brought him into this world. He didn’t get his dreadful manners from me, mind you.”

  With that, Paulina cut in front of me and busted into Max’s office. I stumbled in after her, blanching when I saw the look of irritation that crossed Max’s face.

  “There is the prodigal son,” Paulina crooned. “Working hard, I see. Do you have anything to drink?”

  She made a beeline for his liquor cabinet as I mouthed to him that I was sorry. He merely smiled and shook his head in a bemused fashion. I supposed there was no stopping Paulina Westfield.

  I took my leave then, silently pulling the door behind me. I would thank Max after Paulina had left.

  Paulina had already started loudly proclaiming the purpose of her visit, before I even closed the door. “I’m setting you up with a lovely girl named Constance Klein for the charity dinner on Friday, and I absolutely will not take no for an answer. She’s beautiful and of course comes from a very good family. You need a date you know and you could...”

  Now that the door was closed, the rest of what she was saying became muffled. Not that I wanted to hear any of it, anyway.

  What could be more of a reality check than this visit from Paulina? Max would never go for a girl like me. The dancing, the pretzels, it was just him being nice to me. But when it came down to it, Constance Klein was the kind of girl he’d be taking out on a date, not me. I was his employee. Nothing more.

  I slumped down into my chair and started working, half-tempted to rip into the bag of pretzels. If only they hadn’t been marred now by my foolish hope. Thank God Paulina had showed up. I had been about to go in there and thank him, and maybe we’d talk about Friday and even flirt a little. And where would that get me?

  Heartbroken. Again.

  This crush was no good. I needed to put my foot down and stop giving in to the little fancies I had that told me there was something between us. Even if it had felt like there was on the dance floor.

  Even if I wanted it more than anything else in the world.

  Paulina left about twenty minutes later, in triumph. She chatted with me on her way out, proclaiming that her job there was done, but that she’d see me again soon.

  I figured it was best to catch Max just after she’d left, since then he wouldn’t have a chance to get back into whatever he’d been working on. I knocked lightly on his door, and a second later he called for me to come in.

  “Hey,” Max greeted, running a hand through his hair. He stood up when I entered and gestured for me to come sit down.

  I shook my head politely. “I actually just wanted to thank you for the pretzels.”

  All traces of stress eased from his face, and his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. My heart thumped. After two weeks of working here, I still hadn’t gotten used to seeing him. I still reacted every time.

  “I’m glad you like them. It seemed like the least I could do.” He thrust his hands in his pockets, and nodded in the direction his mother had gone. “She’s something, isn’t she?”

  I hadn’t intended to come in for a chat. It was supposed to be an in and out kind of job, wherein I’d thank him for the pretzels and get back to my desk—before I got another woeful reminder that he was so far out of my league we weren’t even playing the same sport. But bringing up his mom had the opposite effect.

  I nodded. “Yep, she’s one hell of a lady.”

  Max hid his laugh with a cough.

  “Well, I better be getting back to work.” I turned on my heel, not waiting to see his reaction.

  Starting today, I needed to put more of a professional wall up when it came to Max. It had been so easy to slip into in the kind of casual environment that existed before I got here, to blend in like an extension of Haddie. But I wasn’t Haddie. She didn’t have a crush on Max, and I doubt she’d ever been as close to kissing him as I had been on Friday night. Fool that I was. He wasn’t interested in kissing me, even if sometimes it felt like he was. He was just being a nice guy. The only way I could get that message through to my body, however, was to put him at a distance.

  So that was what I was going to do.

  Even if it killed me.

  Which it might.

  Chapter 11

  Max

  “Yes, Mother. I know which roses to get for a date. I’m not an idiot.”

  “Don’t be like that, Maximilian. You know very well I worry about these things. Constance would be a very smart match, and I don’t want you screwing things up by bringing her yellow roses like a cretin.”

  I rolled my eyes and crumpled another piece of scrap paper on my desk, tossing it across the room to the waiting recycling bin. It bounced off the side and went tumbling across the floor. Damnit.

  “I have to go, Mother. I’m very busy.” I started crumpling another piece of paper.

  She sighed, “Yes, I suppose you are. I’ll see you at the dinner tomorrow. Remember to look sharp!”

  I mumbled reassurances to her and hung up the phone, throwing the paper toward the basket. This time, it was a perfect shot.

  Emma must have noticed that I was off the phone now, as she knocked on my door a second later. I perked up and called for her to enter.

  She looked particularly pretty today. Her long brown hair was tied back from her face, but with a couple strands left down to frame her apple cheeks. She was wearing a plain black dress, but the fit of it more than made up for the lack of embellishments. I admired how it tucked in at her waist and curved with the swell of her hips, cinching back in to hug her toned thighs.

  Emma didn’t notice me checking her out. She was already walking across the room, her face focused on the paperwork in her hands. She was talking too, but I’d zoned out the moment I saw her.

  “Sorry?” I said. “Could you repeat that?”

  Emma looked up when she reached the desk and passed me the papers. “Accounting sent these over. They need your approval so they can submit the financials for the quarter.”

  “Ah, right.” I smiled. “Thank you.”

  Emma nodded and turned. Before she could reach the door, she bent and picked up the paper ball from the ground and tossed it toward the bin. It went s
traight in, and I saw a victorious smirk on her lips before she turned and continued out the way she came.

  A week ago, there would have been a little more back and forth between us. She’d barely talked to me since Monday, and I couldn’t help but wonder if getting her those pretzels had been a mistake. She said she liked them, though, right? Why would she be mad that I bought her pretzels?

  It wasn’t the pretzels though. It couldn’t have been. So that left only one other option—she was upset at me for Friday night. That didn’t make sense either. We were having fun, a great time, and even though things had gotten a bit sexual for a while, neither of us actually did anything worth being upset over. We were having fun. Or at least I thought we were having fun.

  This was vexing me far more than I would have expected. On top of that, I was pissed off that Paulina had backed me into a corner with the charity dinner. I was expected to go, and since I was already going, there was no reason I couldn’t bring a woman of my mother’s choosing as a date. It wasn’t like I had anyone else to go with.

  I leaned back in my chair and sighed, wishing I could take Emma instead. Though sober reflection the morning after our nightclub encounter reminded me that aggressively coming on to my employee could wind up earning me a lawsuit. Although, I still hadn’t given up on the idea of pursuing her.

  No, it was more her cold attitude over the past week that had put the brakes on that plan. I’d begun to think that I’d been misinterpreting something from her. It was driving me mad. She was all I could think about, which made the prospect of taking another woman to the stupid thing tomorrow even more unappealing.

  Fuck it.

  Fuck. It.

  I sat forward and jammed my finger down on the intercom. “Emma, can you come in for a second?”

  “Of course,” she said back.

  I stood up and straightened my tie, walking around the desk to lean on the other side of it. I was going to sort this out once and for all. And I was going to ask her to come to the dinner with me. I didn’t want to go with Constance. I wanted to go with Emma. And I was too old and too fucking successful to not do what I wanted to do.