Seven Day Wife: A Fake Marriage Office Romance

by Mia Faye

  I reached up and tried to drag him closer to me, deepening the kiss. Pick me up, dammit. Pin me against something and take me! Instead, he let the motion of our embrace sway him forward and then backward, and he let me go, breaking the kiss with a final peck as chaste as the first one. My eyes fluttered open, and I knew I looked furious, if only because he was grinning that devilish grin of his.

  “We should head back,” he said, looking out the window as if expecting to see the faces of our co-workers plastered on them, peering inside.

  “Right,” I said in a small voice. A voice that betrayed the frustration, the anger.

  He was teasing me. Toying with me. He knew my reservations about this, about us, and he was telling me he didn’t respect them. Showing me. Daring me to resist him because he knew I couldn’t. He could turn me into mush with a single word, and we both knew it. It set my blood to boiling.

  “Tournament’s starting in a few, by the way,” he said casually as we walked back out into the corridor.

  I nodded absently. The tournament. Right. The faint outline of a plan was forming in my head. He thought he could toy with me like that? Well, I would toy with him right back. I didn’t know the policy on switching teams, but I was going to be on the team playing against Cam. And I would be damned if I was going to let him win.

  Chapter 10

  Cameron

  There was a reason everyone looked forward to the annual company retreat, and specifically the flag-football tournament. It was an opportunity to get everyone’s aggression out in the open, to channel the frustration that came with the job, which we were normally forced to suppress while working.

  On the field, however, there was no room for decorum or professional courtesy. It was the one time during the year when you were allowed to run over whoever you hated from the office. You were encouraged to, actually.

  By the look of things, this year’s event wasn’t going to be any different.

  The aggression started early. Joshua Jackson, Head of Sales, walked up to the table where I was seated and tapped me not-so-gently on the back.

  “I hope you’re ready for your annual beatdown, Palmer,” he said, loud enough to draw the attention of everyone around us. He looked down at me with his trademark grin, and I had to actively resist the urge to punch him in the face.

  Josh was the closest thing I had to a work enemy. Not that we were enemies in real life; I actually liked Josh. He had an intensity and single-mindedness that made him an excellent department head. In another lifetime, we would even have been friends. But at some point in time, one of us had thrown down the flag during a tournament, and the competitiveness that ensued pitted us solidly against each other from that moment on.

  I shared that trait with Josh; both of us were fiercely competitive to the point of ridiculousness. Once, in the lead up to the annual tournament, Josh and I had stopped speaking to each other completely, even in the context of work. We would use interns or aides to send messages to each other or leave voicemails when we had to communicate. It got so absurd we refused to attend meetings where the other would be. Always, we went back to being work colleagues the moment the retreat was over. But in the lead-up to it, and on the day of the tournament, there wasn’t anyone in the world I despised more.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t be so smug if I were you,” I told him.

  “Let me guess,” Josh said. “This is the year you finally end the losing streak?”

  “Worse. This is the year I break your spirit.”

  “You know, Palmer, I actually hope you do. It must be incredibly embarrassing to lose three years in a row. I can’t imagine anyone would still have the will to live if they lost four.”

  “It’s a good thing we won’t be losing, then.”

  “Well, I just came over to wish you good luck. You’ll definitely need it.”He leaned in a bit so he could whisper to me.“I have a little surprise for you, by the way. I hope you like it.”

  “What are you talking about, Jackson?”

  “Oh, you’ll see,” he said, his voice crackling with glee.

  “Your mind games won’t work, you know. They never have, and they never will.”

  Josh straightened up and grinned. “I’m almost tempted to tell you what it is, but no. It’ll be way better when you walk up to that field and see it. I can’t wait to see the look on your face when you do.”

  He gave me another hefty clap on the back, then turned and walked away.

  I looked around to see several eyes on me, as expected, and as Josh had intended, several people had been watching the interaction. Our hosts, Mr. Flores, gave me a small smile from the head of the table, then he turned and went on speaking to his wife. My eyes scanned the room, looking for, and eventually finding Yvette. She was seated on the other side of the room, literally as far from me as she possibly could be.

  I couldn’t help smiling.

  I had not meant to tease her at all. I had somehow found myself standing right behind her, far too close to her, and the contact had reminded me of our night of passion. Up until that point, I had been doing a very good job of keeping her out of my mind, primarily by keeping her out of my sight. It all came rushing back, the feel of her, the smell, the way she moaned in short gasps. It was all I could do to suppress my boner when Brian called me up to the front. I followed her as we proceeded into the house, my eyes trailing her as she found a wall and leaned against it. Shy? Or maybe she was stunned by the sheer enormity of the house; I had been too, the first time I came here.

  The thought slipped into my mind unbidden. I needed to touch her, to hold her. I needed to feel that porcelain skin underneath my fingers, to fill my nostrils with her essence. Once I thought about it, there was no going back.

  The kiss wasn’t part of the plan, either. Not that I’d had any plan other than to get her alone. In fact, I knew the kiss had been a bad idea. She had been very clear about it; she didn’t want anything romantic to happen between us. I had every intention of honoring her wishes. But as I stood in front of her, it suddenly felt like those were not her wishes at all. Her body was saying something different to me, and I made a snap decision that I was going to listen to.

  All of which meant she was angry at me. She had been angry the second I broke the kiss, and she was still angry now. There was a clipped, formal quality to her words when she spoke to me. I had been with Vicki too long not to recognize the danger behind that cold, rigid smile.

  I stood up and walked over to her. She watched me quietly, her lips pursed, and her eyes flashing. I didn’t know what to make of it, but I felt suddenly afraid of her.

  “The team’s meeting out front in ten minutes for warmups,” I told her.

  There was no response from her. She looked away from me as if she hadn’t heard me, and after a few awkward moments, I took the cue and walked away. Yup, this year’s tournament was definitely shaping up to be explosive.

  Yvette didn’t show up for warmups. I waited as long as I could, as long as the rest of the team would let me. After about eight minutes had elapsed with no sign of her, I was finally forced to name someone else to start in her place. I had been looking forward to seeing how Yvette performed during the warm-up; it would give me a sense of her athletic ability, and I could come up with a game plan for that. The one thing I knew for sure was that she was incredibly flexible. Not that her ability to lift her leg over the back of her head was something I could apply on the field. And it was probably a bad idea to go down that road, I reasoned.

  At exactly noon, a bell sounded somewhere in the distance, signaling it was time for the tournament to begin.

  She wasn’t coming. Even after picking someone else, I kept looking over my shoulder, expecting her to suddenly bound up to where we were stretching.

  “Come on,” I said to the team. “Let’s go. We’re playing the first game.”

  Morale was low, even by our standards. Like me, the team had assumed we would have this secret weapon on our side, and when she didn’t
show, it was a harsh wake-up call. I could see it in their expressions, the way their shoulders slumped as they jogged wearing their identical red T-shirts with the company logo. None of them believed we could win.

  “Listen,” I said, stopping and signaling for them to huddle up around me. “I want you guys to remember that this is supposed to be fun. We’re supposed to have fun. I know there has been a lot of pressure over the years, but this is not about the competition. I mean, would it be nice to finally silence those idiots over in Sales? Without a doubt. But you know what would be even better? If we all left here having had the time of our lives. Okay? So, let’s do just that. When you get out there on that field, don’t worry about anything other than making sure you’re enjoying yourself. The rest will fall into place.”

  It wasn’t the most motivational speech, but it would have to do.

  Indeed, by the time we got onto the field, the team looked considerably sharper. I had recruited the fastest people in the department, three men, and a woman. One of the earliest lessons we had learned was that speed was everything in the game; Sales constantly beat us because of it. So, I had sacrificed a bit of strength and athleticism in favor of speed.

  The Sales team took the field to considerable cheering. Already, the rest of the guys had gathered around the field on either side and were making their voices heard. It wasn’t hard to figure out who they were cheering for. I looked through the faces, scanning the sidelines, looking for Yvette…

  My mouth fell open. I saw her walking on to the field in a bright blue T-shirt, along with Josh and a smug-looking group of Sales department guys, and I was momentarily speechless.

  Josh’s words came ringing back to me, his taunting at lunch; this was what he had been talking about. They had found a way to snatch the slight advantage we had hoped to have.

  Yvette caught my eye, and there was a savage pleasure in the way she smiled at me. It hit me then, what this was really about. This was payback for out little encounter back in the storage room. I thought I had detected a little stiffness in her gait as we left the room, and her eyes had definitely flashed with something resembling anger. I hadn’t really thought of it as leaving her hanging, but I could see why she would take it like that. An unwelcome tease that violated our initial agreement not to get intimate in the office. It had been impulsive on my part; I couldn’t help myself. Not that there was any way to convince her of that now.

  The ref for the day, a pimply young man I recognized as one of the interns, signaled for the teams to come together, and we walked to the center of the field.

  “I was right to wait,” Josh said as we faced each other down. “It was worth it just for the look on your face. Priceless.”

  “You can’t just switch teams,” I said, turning to Yvette. “You work in Editorial.”

  “Ah, I thought you might say that,” Josh cut in as if Yvette was incapable of speaking for herself. “I think the ref would agree with me that the lady can play where she wants?”

  We both turned to the youthful ref, who instantly turned red at the attention.

  “I’m just supposed to ref the game,” he mumbled in a small voice.

  “There you go,” Josh declared happily.

  I knew it was pointless to argue. There wasn’t a rulebook or anything of the sort. He was right; the lady could play wherever she wanted, and none of the expressions of disgust and betrayal I threw at her could change that.

  The ref quickly listed the rules of the game. We were to play two ten-minute halves. We each had a light paper flag attached to a belt around our waists, and the objective of the game was to score without losing the flag.

  After reminding everyone to keep themselves safe and avoid endangering each other, the ref put the whistle to his lips and started the game.

  I knew it was going to be difficult, but I couldn’t have anticipated just how much. Yvette immediately stood out. I wasn’t surprised at her athleticism, but her speed seemed to come completely out of the blue. She was skinny and tiny but incredibly elusive. On the first few plays, Josh simply handed the ball to her, and she danced and dodged her way through our entire team to score twice in quick succession.

  It took her by surprise too; she was constantly looking around and gritting her teeth as if expecting someone to hit her, and then she would spin or shimmy and find herself alone, and the joy would spread through her face. She was like a little kid stepping onto a field and realizing she was better than everyone else there. It was adorable to watch and very frustrating.

  On the third play, I walked over to the guy who was supposed to be guarding Yvette and tapped him on the shoulder.“Let me deal with her,” I told him. “You go over to that side and guard Sheila. They’re using her as a decoy, so you don’t need to worry about her getting the ball.”

  He nodded, more than a little relieved.

  Yvette’s eyes locked on me as we switched places, and I stood right across from her. I smiled and gave her a little wave, and then just before they snapped the ball, I gave her a little wink. Josh, who was playing quarterback, dropped back, scanned the field, and then turned and handed the ball over to Yvette. Except Yvette was busy looking at me, distracted by the faces I was making.

  I took off right at that moment. I covered the distance between us in a few short bounds.

  The handoff wasn’t clean, but Yvette recovered in time. She grabbed the ball and immediately looked up, searching for a running lane. But there wasn’t one. I was bearing down on her fast, and I could see someone else from my team sprinting in her direction as well.

  She realized there was no way she was going to getaway. She tried a little sidestep, turning her hips almost completely to the side and trying to work around me. If I had gone for her, it might have worked. But I lunged for the flag instead. It was dancing just behind her, swaying invitingly in the wind. My fingers closed around the very tip of it, and I yanked, grinning as it came away.

  The ref blew the play dead.

  “Nice try,” I said to Yvette, giving her a playful pat on the butt. “But I’m on to you now. No more easy runs.”

  On the very next play, Josh tried a quick pass, but it sailed harmlessly over his receiver’s head. It was the turning point in the game. Seeing me tracking Yvette so closely forced him to go elsewhere with the ball, and by halftime, we had pulled within six points of them. It helped fire up the ‘troops.’ We entered the second half with more energy and a real belief that we could win.

  And we did rally. I had come up with a smart strategy for dealing with Yvette’s speed. I shadowed her wherever she went, making sly jokes that only she could hear. Inappropriate jokes as often as possible. I reminded her of that night at my place, and then the morning in her office. The idea was to distract her as much as possible, and it worked like a charm.

  If I could get her off her game even a little, it gave me an advantage. I could see where the ball was going and get there immediately. As soon as Josh handed it or passed it to her, I was right there, disrupting the play. With Yvette out of focus, the game was surprisingly more evenly matched. Josh grew increasingly frustrated as his passes went uncaught, and as Yvette got de-flagged for lost yardage.

  On our side of the ball, we were finally having some success. We moved the ball well, mixing in runs and passes at random to keep them guessing, and with a minute left to play, the game was tied.

  “This is it, guys,” I said to the team as we huddled up for the last time. “All of you have played a great game. We’ve actually kept them in check pretty well. This is it, though. Final drive. Stay focused, and let’s put together a winning drive. Stacy? I need you on this one. They’re not expecting us to pass to you, so we’re going to do just that. I’m going to buy as much time as I can. Get downfield as fast as possible. Run your ass off. Okay?”

  Stacy nodded, though she looked terrified.

  It was a good strategy. Josh’s team had identified her as the weakest part of our team, as I had hoped they would. What they didn�
�t know was that Stacy had great hands. If I put that ball in the air, chances were she was coming down with it.

  “I bet you’re regretting your decision to switch sides now!” I called over to Yvette.

  She shrugged but didn’t respond. Smart. Refusing to take the bait because she had been doing so all game.

  As soon as I got the ball, I dropped back, looking in the direction opposite from where Stacy was supposed to be going. I held the ball, dancing on my feet, trying to draw the opponents to me, sucking them in. And then I let it fly.

  It happened almost in slow-motion. The ball left my arm, spiraling through the air like a dart. Twelve pairs of eyes all went up at once, tracking the ball, watching it cut through the air, and then begin to dip.

  There was one defender who had been running with Stacy, but he spotted the ball a second too late. By the time the ball dropped, Stacy was almost alone a yard shy of the endzone. She reached up and grabbed it, and from there, it was all too easy to simply walk in and score, untouched.

  The sidelines erupted. A cheer rose up from our side of the field, and before I knew it, bodies were pushing toward me, and I was soon caught in a tangle of limbs and screaming people.

  “We won!” somebody yelled in my ear.

  It seemed so surreal, all of it. I couldn’t believe it, long after I extricated myself from the throng. It was only the first win; we still had around three games to win the whole thing. But we had broken a three-year duck, and that was quite something.

  I spotted Josh making his way off the field, shaking his head, and it made the win even more special.

  There was only one thing that could, and did, sully the feeling of elation; the sight of Yvette walking quickly off the field, her head bowed.