I Waxed My Legs for This?

by Holly Jacobs

Amelia paused then added, ‘‘On second thought, don’t need him too much. Stick to needing him for legal matters. He’s the sort of man who uses women up. Not that he’s mean, or anything. He’s just cold. And a woman can only stand a cold man for so long and then something inside her freezes as well. I don’t want to see that happen to you.”

  ‘‘It’s not going to happen because the only thing I need Elias Donovan for is his legal expertise. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  “Fine.” Amelia didn’t look convinced, but she headed toward the front door. “Up the stairs and to the right.”

  Sarah started up the long, marble staircase. Wagner, McDuffy and Chambers had a beautiful building, though it could use a little sprucing up. She’d replace those heavy blinds and let in some more light. And some of the furniture didn’t fit the stately grace of the building. She’d—

  Sarah stopped herself. She wasn’t here to redecorate the building, she was here to get some legal advice.

  She reached Donovan’s door and knocked.

  “Come in.”

  She opened the door, expecting something in line with the outer office area. Instead, what she found was clutter.

  Piles of paper, files, boxes of who-knew-what. The walls were white, and there were functional department store blinds on the windows. That was it. No pictures on the walls, nothing personal at all. The office was devoid of any indication of who its inhabitant was. She stood taking in the room until Donovan cleared his throat.

  “Miss Madison.” He gave a nod. “You said you needed to see me right away?”

  Sarah shifted nervously from foot to foot. “I do. I appreciate you seeing me so fast.”

  “Anything for a neighbor. Leland’s big on being a part of the community. That’s why he has that picnic every Memorial Day for the Perry Square Business Association and that’s why he’s forced me into...” He let the sentence trail off. “Never mind. You didn’t come here to talk about Wagner, McDuffy and Chambers’s role in the community and if it had been a normal kind of day, I wouldn’t be talking about it either. Have a seat and tell me what I can do for you.”

  Helplessly, Sarah looked around the office, and finally moved a pile of papers from the chair and sat. “I have a client, well, had a client. I redecorated his offices—an entire floor. It was an extensive job and he still owes me a considerable outstanding balance. Though I’ve sent him bills, called him on the phone and even sent a certified letter, he hasn’t paid me. I’m a small business owner, Donovan. I don’t have any assets to fall back on. I pretty much live from hand to mouth. I counted on that money, and things are getting tight.”

  That was a huge understatement. Things weren’t just tight, they were desperate. She took a deep breath and continued.

  “Anyway, I was wondering if you could draw up some paper, or sue him, or whatever it is you do when someone owes you money. And I’m hoping you can do it as soon as possible because I’m really hurting financially.”

  “You have a signed contract?” Donovan asked.

  She bristled a little at the question and the tone he asked it in. What did he think she was? Totally inept?

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “Did you bring it?” he asked, fingers steepled under his chin as he simply waited for her response.

  Okay, maybe she was slightly inept. She should have thought to bring the contract and copies of the letters she’d sent.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t think to bring it, but I can go get it for you.”

  “That’s not necessary. Send it over tomorrow.”

  “Donovan, I don’t know how this works. Do you need a retainer for something like this? If so, I...” It galled Sarah to admit it, but she did, “I don’t have it I’m down to my last nickel, almost literally. When I bought the building, it took most of my savings, and the start-up costs took the rest. I’m broke. I’ll pay you as soon as you settle. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  Donovan stared at his neighbor as she rattled on and on about money.

  Sarah Madison was an attractive woman. She was tall. She was only a couple inches shorter than his six feet. She had red hair. Her brows were about the same shade. He was pretty sure that meant her hair color was natural, not that it mattered. She had freckles, too. There was just a light sprinkling across her nose. And her eyes? Well, there was something about her grayish blue eyes that—

  He cut off the thought

  The color of her eyes didn’t matter. Not for what he had in mind.

  He’d been sitting in his office all day brooding about where he was going to find a fiancée. And then Sarah Madison had called him personally for an appointment and he’d known his fiancée was at hand.

  He knew her in a casual way. He nodded when he saw her on the square. And there was that one day...

  It had been raining. No, not raining, pouring.

  One minute the skies had simply opened up and dumped. Donovan had run into the first door—By Design. The sign had just gone up and as he let himself into the room, the bell on the door and the boxes littering the floor were the only indications that someone might actually be using the space.

  She’d popped up from behind a box, her hair tucked into a baseball cap, her nose smudged with dirt and had grinned as she said, “We’re not quite open for business, as you can see.’’

  She stood and extended a hand. “I’m Sarah. Sarah Madison.’’

  “Donovan,” he’d said, giving her hand a perfunctory shake. “I got caught in the downpour.”

  “Rain like that can’t last long. Make yourself at home until it slows down.” She’d nodded at a box, still smiling, as if she hadn’t noticed he’d given her hand the most cursory shake.

  Something about her made him uneasy.

  Not in an uneasy, run-for-your-life sort of way. But in a deeper, there-was-something-about-this-woman- he-couldn’t-quite-put-his-finger-on, sort of way. And he didn’t like things, especially feelings, that he couldn’t understand.

  Donovan made an immediate decision—he didn’t want to understand this woman. So rather than take her up on her offer, he took the coward’s way out and said, “It already looks like it’s slowing down. I’ll just be going.”

  “If it’s slowed at all it’s gone from monsoon to simple downpour. Why don’t you wait a few more minutes?”

  Donovan shook his head. “Thanks, but I have to be going.”

  He’d run then from her building to his and soaked himself in the process. Months later he still wasn’t sure why.

  She seemed easygoing...malleable. And she needed something from him and that gave him leverage, and that leverage made her perfect. Fate couldn’t have been any kinder when she’d announced she needed his legal expertise and didn’t have the money for a retainer.

  “Well, Sarah, we’re neighbors, and neighbors help each other out.”

  “Donovan, I know we’re not best buddies, but I had hoped you’d feel that way. And I’ll sign whatever you want, promising to pay you as soon as that dog Ratgaz pays me.”

  He drummed his fingers on the desk a moment, and finally said, “Well, maybe there’s something else you could do for me. You see, I have a little problem that’s right up your alley.”

  “A decorating problem?”

  He could see the relief on her face. She had an expressive face, one that he bet was accustomed to showing her every emotion. Would she be able to pull a fake engagement off?

  Sarah continued, “To be honest, I’d noticed when I walked in what a mess this room is. How on earth do you ever manage to see clients in here?”

  He looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time. It was a bit cluttered. “I see them in the meeting room, but that’s not—”

  “That’s not the issue. The issue is, how can you work in this...well, mess, Donovan? I’m sure your mother used to tell you a messy room makes for a messy mind. Mine did. Mom liked order. Not a cold institutional order, but a comfortable one. I inherited that from her, the need to make things c
omfortable, yet orderly. She didn’t have a formal business, but Mom decorated a lot of friends’ places. And I’ll do a great job on yours. I can take this room and do so much with it. Make it serviceable and yet attractive. And that way if you wanted to see clients here rather than in the meeting room you could do it without blushing with embarrassment.”

  “I don’t blush,” he informed her. “Like I said no one usually sees my office, but since you’re a neighbor, I thought it might be better to meet in here.”

  “I’m glad you recognize we’re neighbors, Donovan, though to be honest, we’ve never had a real conversation before today. There was that one day right after I bought the place, but you ran out, despite the fact it was still pouring. You must have had an important meeting. But that initial meeting must have been enough for you to recognize our neighborliness. But people say I’m easy to know, so that must be it, because they don’t say you’re easy to know. No, they say you’re—”

  She clapped a hand over her mouth, obviously embarrassed.

  “I know what people say about me, and that’s fine with me.” At least it had always felt fine until this minute as he watched Sarah hem and haw over it.

  Time to get things back on track. “Listen, this favor isn’t about my office.”

  Her embarrassment forgotten, she grinned. “The reception area then? Oh, that’s almost as good. I mean, this is such an old stately office, and yet the front desk looks like it came from a garage sale, or even worse, from a cardboard box—you know the kind with instructions and even the tools included? That desk doesn’t fit with the ambiance of the building at all, and since it’s the first thing clients see when they come in, you want it to make a statement. Something old, that will say to them, we’re established, and solid. Something—”

  He interrupted. “Sarah.”

  She stopped midsentence and took a breath. “Sorry, sometimes I get carried away. So, why don’t you tell me what you want me to decorate?”

  “My arm.” Donovan watched as Sarah tried to digest his cryptic statement. He should have been clearer, but he was nervous.

  Oh, he doubted she’d notice, and he certainly would never admit it to anyone, not even to Sarah, but there it was. After all, it wasn’t every day he asked a woman to be his fiancée, even if it was just for a night. He actually thought his palms were sweating, so he placed them on his slacks and covertly wiped them off.

  “Pardon?” Sarah finally said.

  He folded his now drier hands in front of him on his desk and leaned forward. “Okay, I’m going to lay it on the line, but first I need you to promise that what I say won’t go any further than this office, even if you decide not to help me.”

  She actually crossed her heart. “I promise.”

  If Donovan was the type, he’d think the gesture was endearing. But he wasn’t, so he simply said, “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” She smiled a tentative smile, and sat back and simply waited for him to start.

  He tried to think of the most logical way to present his case. He just needed to treat it as if he was in court making his summation to the jury.

  “I want to be a partner in this firm. I deserve to be. I bring in more accounts, more money than any of the other associates. And in another firm, there’d be no problem. I’d be partner by now.”

  “How is this firm different than other firms?” she asked.

  “Leland Wagner, that’s how. He’s living in the last century and doesn’t believe a man can be complete and happy unless he has a family. Balance. That’s what he calls it.”

  “And you don’t want a family?”

  “I don’t have time for a family. My job comes first, which is why I’m the biggest money-machine the firm has.”

  “If work comes first, then why would you choose to work in a firm that promotes family?”

  “I—” Donovan stopped short. She’d stumped him with the question.

  He’d never really been sure why he’d chosen to work at Wagner, McDuffy and Chambers. He’d had other offers, better offers in terms of prestige. Yet, something about this firm felt right.

  “Listen,” he said, “that doesn’t matter. What matters is Leland thinks I need balance.”

  “I still don’t see where I come in,” Sarah said.

  “We—Leland and I—were having a meeting, talking about partnership, and he was agreeing I had everything I needed to be a partner... everything but a wife. And that’s where you come in.”

  “I know I must appear dense, but I still don’t see where you’re going with this,” Sarah said.

  “Sarah, I know we don’t know each other very well. Actually we don’t know each other at all, but that doesn’t really matter. Leland insists I need a wife to become partner, and I want this position, so I want you to be my—”

  Her face lost its color and she asked in a shaky voice, “You want me to be your wife?”

  “Not wife,” he assured her. Donovan was happy with his life as it was and didn’t plan to marry for a long time, if ever. Right now he just wanted to concentrate on furthering his career, and in order to do that he need a... “Fiancée.”

  “Fiancée?” she repeated, making the word more of a question than a statement

  “Fiancée. And just for one night Leland and his wife are having a huge blowout anniversary party next week and I told him I’d bring my fiancée. The only problem is, I don’t have a fiancée.”

  “So you lied.”

  Donovan didn’t like the way she made it sound. “I embellished.”

  “Lied,” she insisted. “I’m not your fiancée, but you want me to pose as one. That’s a lie.”

  “You are my fiancée if you say you are. I mean, we could be engaged, for just one night. Then I’m not lying. We’ll simply dissolve our engagement afterward.”

  “What did you do? Look at your appointment book and say to yourself, the next single woman who walks in the door I’ll ask to be my fiancée?”

  Sarah looked annoyed. More than annoyed, she looked insulted.

  And the way she put it the proposal sounded insulting. Donovan said, “I—”

  “Why would you think I’d agree to this? I came here for legal counsel, that’s all.”

  “But this would help you,” he insisted.

  “How could my playing your fiancée for a night help me?” she asked. There was a furrow on her brow, as her face got all tight with annoyance.

  For the first time in a long time, Donovan wasn’t quite sure what to say to make this better. In the courtroom he was never at a loss. He prepared his case, knew it inside out and was so prepared that nothing could throw him off his rhythm. But he hadn’t had enough time to prepare for this. Actually all the time in the world couldn’t have prepared him for this.

  Mentally he tried to put some tactical offense together.

  “You said you were in financial straits,’’ he started.

  “I won’t be after this deadbeat pays me. Things will go back to being merely tight. But I knew things would be tight when I bought the store. I was willing to scrimp for a few years in order to own something... something that’s all mine. By Design has so much potential. All I need is to get it off the ground. If you can get Ratgaz to pay, I’ll be okay.’’

  “And I will. But you shouldn’t be so dependent on one job. Plus, sometimes the courts move slowly. And even if we reach a settlement, it could be a while. What if in the meantime you had other jobs? Jobs that would pay the bills while you waited?”

  “Pretending to be your fiancée would get me other jobs?” Sarah asked.

  “Leland Wagner is a very well respected man within the community. Anyone who’s anyone in Erie will be at this party. And I’ll promise to introduce you around.”

  “Really, Mr. Donovan—”

  “When did I become Mr. Donovan?” He was surprised by how much he didn’t like the cold distance in her tone.

  “The minute you asked me to play a role in your absurd charade.” She rose and sta
rted to the door. “Thank you for seeing me.”

  “Sarah, what about your case?” Donovan asked.

  “I’ll handle it myself. I’ll handle everything,” she said as she walked out of his office.

  Pick up A Day Late and a Bride Short