Louise held out the magazine to her, and she took it from her outstretched hands. The model’s hair was pulled back loosely with wispy tendrils and flowers tucked around the bun. Maddie could picture how lovely Louise would look with her long blond hair pulled back in such a style. She was just about to tell her that, but an ad at the corner of the page caught her eye.
Matchmaking/Escort Service
Match Made Easy is for people tired of the struggles of single life. Whether you’re looking for a lasting relationship or just a companion for a corporate event or wedding, we’ll save you the time and headache. Just answer our simple questionnaire and you’ll be assigned your own personal matchmaker. Making your Match is that EASY.
Give us a call or send us an email and start taking control of your love life today!
Maddie blinked. Yes, she could take control of her love life—or rather, have them take control of her love life. This was the answer to her big-fat-mouth prayers. An escort service.
“Well?” Louise nudged her with her elbow. “What do you think of the hairstyle?”
“Hairstyle?” She looked at her sister blankly. “Oh, it’s very ni— Uh, I mean, I hate it.”
Louise and her mother frowned at her.
“What are you talking about?” her cousin asked. “That’s the perfect hairdo for Louise.”
“Oh, no, she can do better. Much better.” Then to further prove that point and save the website information, she ripped the page from the magazine and shoved it down her dress.
“Maddie, what on earth is wrong with you?” her sister asked, planting her fists on her hips.
“You mean besides the obvious?” Veronica muttered.
Her mom cocked her head. “Honey, is something wrong? You looked flushed.”
Louise made a reach for the article but Maddie jumped back and pressed the paper farther into her bra. “N-nothing is wrong. I just don’t want Louise to make a major mistake with her hair. Better to not even be tempted by this dowdy style. It’s awful. We’ll find another one for you.” She pointed her finger toward the seating area. “There are a whole bunch of magazines over there.”
Louise continued to stare at her for several long seconds, then finally nodded. “Okay, I guess I do want to find the perfect style.” She frowned at Maddie’s chest. “However, your methods to express that seem a bit extreme…”
“Let me go change and then we’ll get cracking on looking for one.” Not waiting for an answer, Maddie hurried to the dressing room and, once she was behind the curtain, pulled out the crumpled page from her dress.
Maddie had seen commercials for Match Made Easy on TV. They seemed like a decent business and legit. She hoped. She prayed they weren’t out of her price range. Not that it mattered—time was running out. She’d pay anything to prove to her family she wasn’t cursed. Plus, Ryan would be there, most likely with that cheating blonde of his. She’d bet anything they’d both love to see her at her lowest point: jobless and dateless. Well, no one was going to feel sorry for her. Not her cousin and certainly not the best man, either. She’d show them all. And since she couldn’t find a wedding date to her sister’s wedding on her own, it looked as if she’d be forced to do the next best thing.
Hire one.
“What part of hell no do you not understand?”
When his cousin, Kennedy, just stood there gaping at him, Trent Montgomery shook his head in disgust. He didn’t have time for her matchmaking shenanigans. He was done helping out. He had his own business to run. From the looks of things this morning, Red Zone Fitness appeared to be a well-oiled machine; however, his gyms were slowly losing money. He needed to figure out why and what to do about it. But first he needed to talk to the spin instructor before her class began. There were some complaints about her music being too loud and it drifting into the yoga room.
He turned away, but Kennedy began to follow him through the gym like a puppy on the scent of bacon. “Trent, please. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate.”
Trent stopped to pick up a pair of hand weights somebody left in the middle of the floor, and she ran into his back. “Oof,” she muttered.
He turned around as she poked her purple-framed glasses back up her nose, and he had to stifle a grin. His cousin was only twenty-five but her matchmaking/escort business Match Made Easy, which had started out as a simple small business college project, had actually gained momentum and was becoming a viable company. Although, apparently not without a few glitches along the way. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be asking him for more help with it.
“Au contraire,” he countered, waving a mocking finger in front of her face. “You would ask—desperate or not. When you needed financial backing, who did you come to? Me. When you needed website help, who did you come to? Me again. And when you needed—”
“Fine,” she huffed. She flung her hands up in the air. “It’s established that I ask you for a lot of things, but it just so happens that I really am desperate now. I need you. So pleeeeeease help me out here. I’m begging.”
Trent glanced around his gym, and when he saw that the spin class had already started, he sighed, staring down at her. “Okay. What kind of help are we talking about here?”
“I need you for a simple escort job. That’s all.”
Trent wasn’t born yesterday. He knew how to read the fine print in any contract and also when to decipher his cousin’s definition of the word “simple.”
“And just how long is this so called simple job?” he asked.
She bit her lip. “Oh, that. Well…”
“Kennedy,” he warned. “How long is this simple job? Two hours? Three?”
“Four and a half days,” she coughed out through her hand.
He blinked. “Four and a half…days? That’s essentially five days. Are you insane?”
“I know it’s a bit of a commitment. But Trent, please. The family of the groom is hosting a ton of parties for this wedding and—”
“Wedding?” He glared at his cousin. “That makes it a double hell no and you know it.”
Everybody—especially Kennedy—knew he did not do weddings. Ever. He avoided them at all costs, along with cheap beer, Barbara Streisand music, yogurt, and any movie that had characters dressed up in Jane Austen time period garb. He shuddered.
“Sorry. No can do, kiddo. Weddings are a deal breaker. You’re going to have to find yourself some other escort fill-in. I’m out this time.”
“But—but I already tried, and I need someone extremely good-looking.”
He smirked. “Nice try.”
“Not only that. Someone smart and”—she fluttered her fingers around his chest and shoulders—“fit. This woman needs more than a simple escort. It’s her sister’s wedding, and family weddings are special. She can’t bring just anyone. She has to have someone who her family will believe is actually her boyfriend. And what mother wouldn’t love to have you date her daughter?”
He folded his arms, trying not to be amused. “Again, I’ll give you major suck-up points, but my answer is still no. Besides, why on earth would you take a job like that if you couldn’t fulfill it?”
Kennedy’s chin shot up. “Hey, I absolutely could fill it. I’m a professional here. Laird was all set and perfect for the job until the, uh, incident.”
“Incident?”
“Yeah. Toaster incident.” She wrinkled her nose. “Apparently, he and his girlfriend had a bad breakup over the weekend. Now that I think about it, I probably should send flowers. He’s still in the hospital. Laird suffered second degree burns”—with pink flushed cheeks, her gaze traveled past his belt buckle then bounced back up again—”in the frank and beans area, if you know what I mean.”
Trent winced. That must have been one hell of a breakup. “Don’t you have a backup guy for these kinds of…emergencies?”
“Unfortunately, no. Not yet. It takes time to build up an escort base as well as a client base. There are two conventions going on in Boston within the next few days and a
number of women who wanted someone to accompany them to various cocktail parties. I’m already using everyone I have. Besides, this client was pretty specific in her escort request. Laird was the closest man I had who fit her criteria. So, now we’re stuck.”
Trent lifted an eyebrow. “Correction. You’re stuck.”
“No, I mean we. You’re invested in this business just as much as I am. Normally, I would refund her the money, but this gig could be huge for me—us. The wedding is a very big deal. The bride is marrying Michael Lyons. That’s a foot in the door to advertise in Fenway Park. Plus, you have no idea how many celebrities and potential upscale clientele we could gain from this if she’s happy with Match Made Easy. It’ll look great to investors, too. And if business really starts to take off from it, well, the sooner you’ll have your money back that you need to renovate your gyms and pay off your business loan.”
“I don’t know…”
“I’ll be able to give you back your money with interest, and then you’ll have enough for that program you want to start here in the gym.”
The mention of his youth group idea suddenly had his attention. Ever since he graduated college and opened his fitness center, he had visions of starting up a after school program in his home town of Midship, MA. He wanted it for high school athletes who needed more than just physical training. He wanted a program in his gym that went deeper. That could serve as a kind of character coach for these young men. A place they could go for support if there was no family support. Something he could have desperately used himself when he’d been growing up.
Now he needed the money for updated equipment and to pay off his line of credit, which was coming due soon. Trent had the funds for it all a few years ago, but then his cousin came to him when she needed financial backing for her matchmaking business, and he’d given it to her. How could he not? Kennedy was the only person who stuck by him after he had suffered his football-career-ending injury in college. His own fiancée hadn’t even stood by him. That was when he found out who his true friends were.
And that he hadn’t had many of them.
Kennedy grabbed his arm and gave a little squeeze. “Trent, women love you and you know it. I don’t want to fink out on this woman. What if she reports me to ADAMS?”
“Who’s that?”
“Not who. What. ADAMS is the Association of Dating Agencies and Matchmakers. I don’t want a black mark against my name there. I’ve worked too hard, and I have a reputation to uphold. Plus, I don’t know, I kind of liked her. She seems really…really…”
“Nice?” he finished for her.
She shook her head. “Desperate. I want to help her.”
Desperate.
He rolled his eyes. That was the third nail in the coffin to this whole fiasco. Kennedy wanted him to pose as a paid escort (which embarrassed him) to a desperate woman (which scared him) and take her to a wedding (which nauseated him).
Oh, yeah, he liked that idea.
Trent closed his eyes as if that would help draw the strength he needed not to put his cousin in a headlock. He drew in a breath and, when he opened them again, he found her gazing up at him with big brown hopeful eyes. The word “sucker” reflected back in them, and she grinned as if she knew what his answer would be before he even opened his mouth.
Hell. Of course he would say yes. He didn’t have the heart to let her down. Plus, as much as he hated the idea of posing as arm candy for some strange woman, he had a lot riding on the success of Kennedy’s business, too.
“What’s this woman’s name?” he grumbled.
Kennedy squealed, jumping up and down, then threw her arms around his neck. “You are the best cousin ever,” she said, giving him a loud kiss on the cheek. “Her name is Madeline McCarthy. She’s about your age. Maybe a year or two younger. You’ll like her. She has a great personality.”
Trent tried not to make a face, but when Kennedy said “great personality” that usually translated to “boring” and quite possibly “allergic to working out.” But the name sounded vaguely familiar. Then again, when he was the star college quarterback for the Florida Fireballs, he’d attracted more women than a David’s Bridal wedding dress sale. He’d bet he’d probably met a hundred Madelines back then—when everybody loved him and thought he was some kind of freakin’ football god. Including his own fiancée. Then that bubble burst along with his future career. He’d eventually gotten over both. He’d become the successful business owner to three Red Zone Fitness Centers in the North Shore area of Massachusetts, and he now just enjoyed female companionship for what it was truly worth. A temporary means to an end. A fun and temporary means, but it all still led to an end—one that he always made sure to initiate.
No harm, no foul that way.
Kennedy reached out and gave his cheek an affectionate pat. “Hey, I’m sorry that it has to be a wedding. But maybe it’ll be good for you. You know, a hair-of-the-dog kind of thing,” she added with a wobbly smile.
Hair of the dog. Huh. If that were the case, he was about to choke down one supersized Bernese mountain dog kind of milkshake over the next few weeks. But if it was good for Kennedy’s business, it would mean the extra money he sorely needed, so he’d grin and dazzle this woman until her head spun. And pray it was the last time he’d ever have to help out with the “family business” again.
“I’m a big boy, Ken. I can handle a wedding event.” He hoped. “So when do I meet this desperate woman with the great personality?”
“I’m glad you asked.” His cousin suddenly dropped her hands, clearing her throat as if she had a wad of cotton lodged in it. “Now, don’t get huffy,” she began.
Trent frowned at her. “Huffy? You are not allowed to refer to me or any man as huffy. In fact, you telling me not to get huffy is getting me…well, huffy.”
Kennedy checked her watch. “Okay. Then don’t get upset with me, because I figured you would agree to play escort for me. Eventually.” She glanced over his shoulder then swallowed again. “It’s just that, well, your future wedding date just walked in.”
Chapter Two
Between lying to her family and hiring an escort service to save face, Maddie figured her life at this point had all the makings of an award-winning reality TV show.
Thank goodness she really liked and trusted the owner of Match Made Easy, Kennedy Pepperdine. Maddie needed someone like her in her corner. Kennedy was about her age and seemed professional and completely empathized with Maddie’s dateless plight. She assured her that she had her very best man lined up for the job—which was a huge relief. Maddie needed nothing less than a 100 percent perfect man, otherwise she wasn’t sure she’d be able to pull off this fake wedding date fiasco.
She was about to invest a good chunk of her savings on this ploy, so it had to go right. But it would be worth it to squash the family curse rumor for a while and to have her ex—Ryan—see that she’d found somebody else so quickly, especially since he was the one who had caused her to lose her job in the first place. The rat.
Her eyes burned from lack of sleep as she gazed around the gym. Maddie considered Red Zone Fitness as the meeting place a bit odd, but Kennedy assured her that neutral everyday atmospheres worked best for first meets. So here she was, looking out of place—and now that she thought about it, a little out of shape. She adjusted her running shorts, which seemed a bit tighter than usual. She could feel them inching up her butt cheek with the slightest of movements. What made her think she could meet her date, then squeeze in a workout?
It was Maddie’s first time there, but she liked what she saw of the gym. The workout area had a good mix of men and women of all ages. The treadmills faced the windows, which overlooked part of Massachusetts Bay, but had tinted glass so people walking along the paved path couldn’t see in. Despite needing a little TLC, everything looked clean and neat. She could see herself working out here. Maybe, if she enjoyed working out. Or if she ever just…worked out.
Maddie checked her cell phone for the tenth
time for any missed messages from Kennedy. Where is she? Maddie felt so desperate and shady, waiting to meet her hired “date.” Everyone who looked at her seemed to know exactly why she was here, like she had a giant L on her forehead. Ugh. She closed her eyes and prayed for the ground to open and swallow her whole. Then, when that didn’t happen, she prayed for looser shorts.
“Maddie!”
Her eyes sprung open when she heard her name called out from across the room. Kennedy bounced on her heels and waved her over from across the room. Finally! She pulled on her gym shorts one last time before heading over, but dread froze her feet to the ground when she noticed the man standing next to Kennedy.
Oh, crappity-crap-crap. She could never forget a face like that. Trent “Money” Montgomery. Please, let there be some mistake.
But then Kennedy whispered something in his ear, and he nodded. Oh, no. Before she could contemplate turning around and hightailing it out of there, Trent’s gray gaze caught hers and held for several long seconds before he offered her up one of those dazzling smiles she remembered him using on all the high school cheerleaders years ago.
Mama. And just like that, her traitorous knees did an odd little wobble.
Trent had been given the nickname “Money” in high school, because he was known for throwing passes that were right on the money. That name had followed him throughout his college career, too. Then he suffered an injury that ended his would-be NFL career. It was all anyone from town talked about when the accident had happened. Not that she paid any attention to college football talk. Or Trent Montgomery. At least not anymore.
That was a lifetime ago.
Physically, Trent hadn’t changed a bit—probably because of some deal he’d made with the devil or most likely because he was the devil. He was striking and sexy, in a cavalier jock kind of attractiveness. Football had given him all those ridiculous muscles, and even though he probably hadn’t played the game in years, he hadn’t lost one single ounce of that perfect athlete’s body.
Wedding Date for Hire Page 2
