Dealing in Deception

by Samantha Joyce

  She recrossed her legs and I spotted a flash of pink between her legs. Underwear today. Dark pink underwear.

  I swallowed hard. Stay on track, Linton.

  “Well,” she said after a moment, “you’re certainly passionate about your cause. I’ll give you that. But I’m sorry. I think you were right the first time. I don’t see this endeavor going anywhere, with or without my help.”

  She jumped out of the chair and headed for the door. I lunged off the sofa and stopped her before she made it out of the room. She stood only inches away from me, her hips almost against mine. A gasp popped out of her mouth, sexy as hell and weakening my knees, but I maintained my stance at the door.

  “I thought you said you could beat any challenge,” I said. “Isn’t that why you came in here with me in the first place?”

  She placed her palm on my chest, almost like she was going to push me out of the way, but her hand stayed flat. I wondered if she could feel my heart pounding at her nearness.

  We stood like that for a full minute, challenging each other with our eyes and bodies.

  Something licked my hand then wriggled between us. Ari let out a bark. I patted him on the head to let him know everything was fine and the strange woman in front of me wasn’t a threat.

  Or maybe she was the biggest threat I’d ever encountered.

  Veronica’s fingers left my chest, and she sank into the chair. “You’re right. I can pull this off. But we do need to discuss price. You said you had some money saved up, but something like this won’t come cheap.”

  “Scott said you charged him three thousand?”

  I took my seat on the couch as she studied her nails. “Scottie was an easy one. This job is a longer stint, and it will require some major acting on my part, as well as getting in touch with some of my contacts to get meetings with potential investors. Five times the work, at least. So, fifteen grand.”

  “Whoa.” I exhaled and leaned back. That ate into most of what I had left. I’d need to take on a few consulting jobs from home to make ends meet, maybe finally sell off Clare’s engagement ring, but it was doable. Guess I wouldn’t be paying off that maxed-out credit card anytime soon.

  “I knew you couldn’t afford this when you walked in yesterday,” she said. “Something about the hole in your sleeve.”

  “I didn’t say no. I just needed to think about it. I do have it. But I get a full refund if you’re not successful, right?”

  Ari resettled beside her and placed his head in her lap. She didn’t shove him off. I found myself suddenly jealous of my dog.

  “And what exactly are the terms?” she asked. “What do you want?”

  “I want my blankets bought and mass-produced to help the needy.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  “Then walk away. It’ll be our little secret you failed before you tried.”

  Her cheek twitched. Victory was mine. “Fine. We have a deal, Baxter.”

  “Bax,” I corrected. “Baxter makes me feel like someone’s dog.” The corner of her lips tilted up, ever so slightly, and satisfaction bloomed in my chest that I might have actually made her almost laugh.

  “We’re done here.” She stood and pulled her phone out of her purse. “I only take cash. We’ll meet downtown tomorrow. Here, input your number and I’ll text you the details. Bring the money and we’ll start right away.”

  I handed her the phone after entering my details, and walked her to the door. Ari trailed behind us. “If you can actually pull this off, it will be a miracle.”

  “No kidding. This is the dumbest thing I’ve agreed to.”

  I held out my hand. “Well, thanks, anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow, Ronnie.”

  She spun on her heel, her eyes darkening beneath her long lashes. The anger on her face knocked me back so far, I almost tripped on the dog. “Don’t call me Ronnie. Ever. Or this deal is off, got it?”

  “Got it.” I held the door open for her. “Have a good evening, Veronica.”

  She walked down the street and got into her car without another word. Goose bumps raced up my back as I watched her silver vehicle exit my street. The look on her face when I’d called her Ronnie had chilled me to the core. She hadn’t exactly been a basket of puppies when we’d met, but I’d definitely hit a nerve with my attempt at a friendly nickname.

  Ari whimpered as her car disappeared from view, and I rubbed his ears. “I agree, buddy. I just made the scariest deal of my life with the most terrifying woman I’ve ever met. That book was wrong. The devil doesn’t wear Prada. I’m pretty sure she wears Chanel.”

  Veronica

  I tapped my foot and pulled out my phone for the twentieth time. Bax was late. Shocker.

  Just another thing about him to drive me crazy. I shouldn’t have gone to his house yesterday. I shouldn’t have made this impossible deal with him. And I definitely shouldn’t have admitted my real name. I’d never done that with a client.

  I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered in the frosty air. It was colder than October should be. I couldn’t figure out why Bax got to me, how he managed to find weak spots in my armor. He was nowhere near my standards. He needed a bigger apartment, a plumper wallet, and a personality that didn’t make me want to gouge out my eyes. Yet, here I stood, trying to ignore the butterflies of excitement flittering around my stomach at the thought of seeing him again.

  “You should be wearing a jacket in this weather.”

  I spun at Bax’s voice and huffed in annoyance. “You’re late.”

  “Sorry. Metro issues. Out of my control.”

  “You took the Metro here?”

  “Yeah, I take it everywhere. Who needs a car in this city? Parking and insurance are expensive. Besides, this is better for the environment.”

  “Ugh,” I said. “Don’t you ever get sick of being Mr. Save-the-World?”

  “No. Why, do you ever get sick of waiting for the Wizard to bring you a heart?”

  “Well, at least I’m not missing my brain.” His eyes widened with what looked like appreciation, and I smirked. “Yes, I know The Wizard of Oz. It’s a movie about priceless shoes, so of course I’ve seen it. Now, please tell me you couldn’t get the money together and we can walk away from this and pretend we never met.”

  He reached into the messenger bag at his side—I thought only paperboys from olden days wore those—and pulled out an envelope. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I have it all. And you gave me your word. No backing out now, Veronica.”

  I peeked inside the envelope and did a quick flip through the bills. Dammit. How had a guy who lived in a closet come up with this kind of cash? Stashing the money in my purse, I nodded at the store behind us.

  “Okay, let’s get to work, then. The first thing you need is a new wardrobe.” I scanned his blue jeans with holes in the knees and worn brown jacket. “Your first impression is important when you meet with investors. The last thing we need is for them to think you’re one of the homeless people you’re trying to save.”

  He wrinkled his eyebrows at the men’s clothing store. “This place looks kind of fancy. I don’t have the budget for it. Maybe we should start with Goodwill? I’ve found some great stuff there.”

  “Right. Because I’d set foot inside a Goodwill.” I held up my purse. “And don’t worry about the cost—I included this in your bill.”

  The bell above the door chimed our entrance into the brightly lit store. Hundreds of suits lined the walls, clumped together by color, ranging from light to dark. I closed my eyes and inhaled the scent of expensive fabrics. Classical music—Vivaldi’s Four Seasons—tinkled above our heads, soothing my earlier anger.

  A small Italian man rushed to my side. “Ah, Miss Cassandra! Welcome back! It’s so nice to see you again.”

  I took the man’s hand. His overly tanned skin made mine look like I’d ordered the Snow Whi
te special at the tanning salon.

  “Rocco! Lovely to be back. I need some suits for my friend here, and maybe a tux. We have some important meetings and events to attend. I’d like him to look like he belongs on my arm and not living in a tent in the woods.”

  “Wonderful! As always, we have just what you need.” Rocco’s thick accent echoed through the store. He headed to the back, and we followed his head of all-white hair.

  Bax eyed me. “ ‘Cassandra’? Do you ever tell anyone your real name?”

  “Not in places I visit with clients. Believe it or not, you aren’t the first one who’s required a makeover.”

  “Oh, that’s what this is? After this, do we get to go eat ice cream in our pj’s and pillow-fight?”

  “Sorry, I only share my pillow with people I actually like.”

  “Wait. There are people you like?” The corners of his mouth twitched up, and laughter flickered through his eyes. “Who are these magical beings, and do they live on this planet?”

  Heat spread down my arms and up my throat, cutting off any insults I could think of to throw back at him.

  As Rocco pulled Bax onto a pedestal to take his measurements, I flung myself into a plush chair near them and tried to figure out why I hadn’t kicked Bax to the curb yet. Maybe it had to do with the fact that not a single client dared to speak to me like that. Ever. Most of them became tongue-tied or flirted. Some had even asked me out, but I had a strict rule against dating clients.

  Not only did Bax not flirt, he barely seemed interested. And he definitely got off on annoying the hell out of me.

  Rocco told Bax to remove his jacket, and he wrapped a measuring tape around his chest. The movement made Bax’s Coldplay T-shirt ride up. I held in a gasp at the sight of his toned abs. He wasn’t as muscled as the actors and rock stars I’d dated, but he was lean, and angled in the right places.

  “Like what you see?” Bax asked.

  I rolled my eyes to the white ceiling. “You mean a stomach that needs more sit-ups and fewer carbohydrates?”

  It wasn’t even close to true, but the gloating grin disappeared from his face and I sat back in my seat, satisfaction coiling in my stomach.

  Rocco looked up from his measuring. “Don’t listen to her, young man. You need more pasta, not less.” He patted Bax’s stomach, then his own puffed-out gut. “A man with a big belly is a man who can afford to eat the foods that made it that way.”

  Bax met my eyes, his lips pressed together to suppress a laugh. Rocco moved to his inseam and must’ve hit a sensitive spot because that was it. Baxter laughed. The sight of him giggling as an old Italian man struggled between his legs was too much. I found myself joining in.

  He stopped, staring at me like I’d spilled tomato sauce on a one-of-a-kind Versace. “Holy crap, it knows how to laugh.”

  “Oh, fuck off.” I tried for venom, but couldn’t stop my mouth from twinging up with amusement. “Of course I know how to laugh. Hell, I’ve been laughing at you since you walked into my office.”

  “My, you are a cute couple,” Rocco said, writing Bax’s measurements on his clipboard. “Such tension. My wife and I are the same way and have been married for forty years. We still cannot keep our hands off each other. I think tension makes for the best sex, no?”

  Bax lost his footing and almost fell off the pedestal and I shook my head. “We aren’t a couple, Rocco. He’s a client. And there will definitely be no sex.”

  “Thank God.” Bax wiped his brow. “Glad I dodged that bullet. I hear your kind eats their mate when they’re done with them.”

  I dug my fingernails into the velvet seat and narrowed my eyes at him. “You should be so lucky.”

  “Okay.” Rocco held up his palms, the measuring tape dangling to the ground. “I only comment on what I see. We are done with your measurements, young man. Go into the changing room there and get undressed. I shall bring you some things to try on.”

  Bax went into the room and pulled the red curtain closed. It didn’t quite shut all the way, and a gap between the fabric and the wall gave me a glimpse of his back as he pulled his T-shirt over his head. Muscles pulsed in his shoulders, rippling down the bare skin to his hips. He undid his jeans and shoved them down to his ankles before kicking them off. He sported black boxer briefs that gave me a clear view of his toned ass and legs.

  I fanned my face with my hand. Someone must’ve turned up the heat in the store to battle the chill building outside. That explained the sweat building at the base of my neck, and the sudden warmth between my thighs.

  Rocco rushed past me with suits draped across his arms. I quickly pulled out my phone and averted my eyes to the screen as he called to Bax, “May I come in?”

  Bax gave his assent and there came the scratch of the curtain rings against the pole. I kept my eyes on my phone, even though the screen was dark, and all I could make out was my own reflection. My face was flushed, cheeks pink and glistening. Damn, I’d have to tell them to turn the heat down.

  The curtain slid closed again and Rocco came to my side. “Can I get you a drink while you wait, Miss Cassandra? Your usual champagne?”

  The store actually served sparkling wine, but I nodded. The cold drink would be good for me, and the bubbles would clear up whatever was happening in my head.

  Rocco returned in moments with a flute of sparkling liquid and I took a grateful sip. The bubbles danced on my tongue and down my throat, waking up my palate. I moaned in pleasure at the taste of the sweet grapes and took another drink, emptying the glass.

  I held it out to Rocco and he ran to get me a refill.

  The curtain screeched open and I glanced up as Bax emerged. He raised his shoulders. “We good? Does this meet your approval?”

  Rocco had chosen one of the finest suits they sold. Gray, with a hint of silver that glinted in the light, the jacket fit perfectly, accenting his shoulders and chest. I bit my lip. There was nothing like a guy in a suit to get me going. They looked like money. I raised my eyes. Bax sported a self-satisfied smirk that calmed any hint of lust in my body.

  “Oh, it’s a perfect fit. I knew it would be.” Rocco manifested beside me and handed me another glass of champagne. He nudged my shoulder. “What a handsome young man, no?”

  I took a sip of the drink and shrugged. “It’s fine. Basically, we’re wrapping a penny in silver. Anything looks better when you shine it up.”

  “You really can’t give a compliment, can you?” Bax’s nostrils flared.

  “I spend my life with besuited men much more impressive than you,” I said, resting my glass on the arm of the chair. “Now go try on the rest so we can get out of here.”

  He let out a frustrated growl but returned to the changing room.

  “Excuse my interference,” Rocco said, “but you are a little hard on him, no?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but he gives as good as he gets. You saw it. He may be a client, but it doesn’t mean I have to like him.”

  Rocco nodded and brushed at something invisible on his lapel. “You know, my wife always says we like to hide our true feelings behind anger and hatred, since those things are easier to show than love and acceptance. In fact, when I met my wife, we were but children. I thought she was cute, so I pulled her braid to annoy her because I could not say I liked her. Perhaps that is what you are doing right now? Pulling each other’s hair?”

  The image of Bax in bed with me, pulling my hair in just the right way as I screamed his name, flashed through my head and I pressed my thighs together at the tingling sensation between them. Ugh. Get it together, Veronica. Besides, his bed probably smelled like dog and had five-thread-count sheets on it.

  “No.” I shook my head. “There’s no hair-pulling. Not now, not ever.”

  “Fine, fine. Just the observations of an old man.” The doorbell jingled and he glanced at the door. “I have ano
ther customer. Call me if you need anything, okay, Miss Cassandra?”

  I polished off the last of my sparkling wine and placed the empty glass on the red carpet beside Bax’s ugly messenger bag.

  “Shit.” Bax’s voice pierced through the changing room curtain.

  “What is it now?”

  “Well, the rest of the suits are fine, but I’m having trouble with the tux.” He exited the dressing room in black tuxedo pants and a white dress shirt, fiddling with the bow tie. “I’ve never had to tie one of these damn things before. I usually use the button ones.”

  I blew out a stream of air and jumped out of my chair. “Here, I’ll show you. It’s easy. If you can tie your shoelaces—which I assume you can—you can do this.”

  Grabbing one end of the tie, I pulled it so it was longer than the other. “You want to start with them uneven, like this, see?”

  He nodded, watching my hands as I looped one side around the other. “How did you learn to do this? Your dad? Brother?”

  I froze, the ends of the fabric still curled around my finger. A dull, familiar ache throbbed beneath my rib cage.

  “Veronica? You okay?”

  Bax’s voice pulled me back to the present and I swallowed before continuing with the tie. “No siblings. And my dad took off when I was a kid. I learned by dating men who practically sleep in these things. That’s all.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. That sucks.”

  “It does.” I clamped my teeth together, cutting off any other remarks on the subject. Shit. What was wrong with me? I made a point of never talking about my family with anyone—not even those rare people I called friends. I shouldn’t have shared as much as I did. This was why I gave fake names—so my real life and work life didn’t get mixed up. Bax was a client, nothing more.

  I finished up the bow tie in silence, trying not to focus on how close we stood to each other. His chest rose and fell beneath my fingers as I worked, the hint of flavored coffee still on his breath. He must’ve used some sort of body spray that morning, as the scent of something citrusy clung to his skin.