Fiance for the Night

by Melissa McClone

  “Are you crazy?” She yelled so loudly, passengers in a passing car stopped to ask if she was all right.

  “Until tonight, I would have said no,” Troy said with a half smile. “Are you seeing anyone?”

  “What does that have to do—”

  “Answer the question, Cassie.”

  “No.”

  “Neither am I,” Troy said. “So we don’t have to worry about other people. I don’t see why it wouldn’t work.”

  It’s crazy, that’s why. The situation was getting out of control. Not that this mess wasn’t her fault. She took full responsibility for the fiasco they faced, but that didn’t mean she had to let it continue. No, she had to put a stop to it. “That’s what I said about tonight and look where we are now.”

  Troy didn’t listen. Instead he buttoned the front of his jacket around her. “Once your parents see how different we are, they’ll understand when we break up. We can say goodbye and tell your parents it’s too painful to remain friends.”

  Although Cassandra didn’t think her father could hurt Troy’s career, she understood his concern. She had dragged him into this mess. Was she willing to take a chance with Troy’s job hanging in the balance?

  “How often do you see your parents?” he asked.

  Never. “Not much.”

  “So no one will know whether we are still together or not. All we have to do is get through the weekend.”

  The weekend.

  As much as she might want to make a clean break, Cassandra couldn’t leave Troy in the lurch. He seemed like a nice enough guy. A little uptight, but he’d gone along with her charade. It wasn’t fair to leave him with a noose around his neck and her father holding the rope. “How long will we keep up the masquerade?”

  “Long enough so I don’t look like a jerk.” His smile lightened the seriousness of their situation. “What do you think? Will you be my fiancée for the weekend or not?”

  She had wanted a fiancé for the night, not any longer. She enjoyed her life the way it was—uncomplicated. “Okay, but on one condition.”

  “Name it.”

  “We don’t get married,” she said half joking, half serious. “I mean, let’s not get carried away with this, uh, thing. I’ve already had one fiancé who was more interested in marrying my father than me.”

  “That’s an easy one.” Troy laughed. “I don’t want to marry Dixon.”

  She exhaled slowly. “That’s not what I’meant.”

  “I know.” Troy smiled. “I promise not to get carried away with this ‘thing.’”

  “Thank you.”

  “Besides, Cassie,” he said, almost laughing again. “Could you imagine us married?”

  After his night of adventure, Troy dreamed of chocolate ice cream, hot fudge, whipped cream and Cassie. He overslept and raced to catch the Marina Express, bus number 30X. He arrived at his office an hour late. His boss, Mick, met him at the door.

  “Late night, Troy?”

  “I—”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Mick said with a Cheshirecat smile. “Why don’t you come into my office?”

  What had he done? Troy couldn’t imagine being called into Mick’s office because he was an hour late. Besides, Mick had a smile on his face. Something was up, but what?

  As Troy followed his boss, he noticed the sympathetic smile of a young researcher. Another one snickered. Mick was a fair man who demanded and rewarded hard work. He had a temper, though, and rarely took employees into his office unless it was to chastise them. He believed in airing grievances in private, away from the watchful eyes and ears of the office staff. As Troy walked past Mick’s secretary, she gave him the thumbs-up sign. Must not be too bad with Della so relaxed.

  Inside the office, Troy glanced around. A picture of Mick’s gorgeous wife and another picture of his midnight blue BMW hung on the wall. At thirty-seven, Mick had it all. And Troy wanted it—his own fund, a chrome-and-glass decorated corner office, a view of the Golden Gate Bridge, a luxurious car and a wife who looked like a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model. If he stuck to his plan, he’d have it all, too.

  “Have a seat.”

  Troy sat on a black leather chair.

  Mick pushed aside a pile of files and a stack of Wall Street Journals. He leaned against the edge of his desk. “Anything new?”

  Start on a good note. Mick believed in bragging if one could back it up. “I think we’re going to close on the Micro-Psi deal by Friday.”

  “Excellent.” Mick rolled his shoulders as though he were trying to relax his muscles. “Anything else?”

  “I—”

  “I got an interesting phone call this morning,” Mick interrupted. “From Dixon Daniels.”

  Damn.

  “He wanted to talk about you,” Mick said nonchalantly as if it didn’t matter.

  Dammit.

  “He asked all sorts of interesting questions.” Mick’s gaze bored into him. A vein on the side of his neck throbbed. The cutthroat negotiator, as competitors often called him, broke through Mick’s seemingly laid-back manner.

  Oh hell.

  “Man-to-man, Troy,” Mick said in a serious tone with one black eyebrow cocked. “What’s going on?”

  I met a woman last night and agreed to be her fiancé not knowing her father was Dixon Daniels. Mick wouldn’t understand. Over the last three years, Troy had learned one thing about his boss—outside of making investments, Mick never took risks. “Nothing.”

  Mick took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “I know people are always looking for better opportunities, but I thought you were happy here.”

  “I—”

  “You told me you were ready for more money, additional responsibilities, but I’ve been slow in responding. What if I increased your annual bonus by twenty percent?”

  Twenty percent. He could pay for a new roof on his parents’ house; he could pay off some of his student loans. Troy held back a smile. “It’s a start.”

  “Daniels is a fine man, but we have an excellent group here. You’re a key player in our team.” Mick cracked his knuckles. “We’re starting a new fund early next year. I mentioned a possible partnership when I hired you. Is that something you’d be interested in?”

  Partnership. Wow. He’d sell his soul for a partnership in the new fund. It’s what he’d been working for these past three years. “I’d be interested.”

  “I need to talk to the other partners, of course. This is an involved process.”

  “Of course.” Troy wished he could high-five his boss, but maintained his calm. His mind reeled with the possibility of being made a partner, but one nagging thought kept intruding into his excitement. “I need to ask you one thing, Mick.”

  “Ask away.”

  “Are you offering me all of this because Dixon Daniels called or because I deserve it?”

  “Excellent question.” Mick grinned. “What do you think?”

  Over the last three years, Troy had made solid deals and big profits for Mick. “Because I deserve it.”

  “You deserve it, Troy,” Mick said with conviction. “Let’s say Dixon gave me the kick in the ass I needed to do something about it.”

  “Thanks, Mick.”

  He winked and stood. “You stay with me and I’ll make it worth your while.”

  Yes. Troy rose, unable to believe he was on-track with his plan. This would put him a year ahead of schedule for a partnership. “I’ll think about it.”

  Mick patted Troy’s shoulder. “It’s going to be difficult to say no to Dixon, he’s a tough one.”

  “I can handle it.” At this moment, Troy could handle anything. He felt as if he could soar out of the window on the forty-seventh floor and fly. His dreams were finally coming true.

  “I’m sure you can.” Mick opened the door to his office. “Maybe you can get Dixon interested in one of our deals. Talk about a coup. None of our partners have been able to do that.”

  And Troy doubted he’d be able to, either. Oh, well,
might as well play it for all it’s worth. “You never know.”

  “I like your attitude.” Mick’s smile widened. “Have an excellent day.”

  “I will.”

  Troy walked to his desk and sat on his canvas-covered chair. A well-deserved increase in his yearly bonus and a partnership were within his reach. He thought about his master plan, the one he’d followed since deciding to go to business school and make something out of himself. He was achieving all he’d planned, but…

  He’d taken the job with Mick and never considered changing companies. Troy figured hard work and loyalty would earn him high marks and even greater rewards. After the close of the MagicSoft deal, he thought he would be offered a partnership, but he wasn’t.

  Until today. Thanks to catalyst Dixon Daniels. Troy didn’t feel comfortable with the help. He was willing to do what it took to get what he wanted, but…

  How long would it have taken Mick to act without the call from Dixon? Maybe Troy needed to reexamine his plan. If he’d stuck to his plan and acted like Mick, Troy would have never agreed to pose as Cassie’s fiancé.

  Cassie. The not-his-type charmer.

  He preferred women with classic style—tailored clothes, subdued jewelry and impeccable makeup. Cassandra Daniels had created her own style and there was nothing classic about it.

  Still, he had to smile. For a perfect stranger, she’d had a significant impact on his life. She was also giving him something else—a weekend with Dixon Daniels. How many V.C. associates got the opportunity to spend time with a legend?

  Troy wanted to call her, to thank her. They were supposed to talk tomorrow to make plans for Friday’s drive to Carmel, but today was a special day. Surely that justified the call. It wasn’t as if he was asking her out. He merely wanted to talk to her. Troy pulled out her telephone number from his wallet and dialed.

  On the fourth ring, she answered.

  “Hello?” Her voice sounded husky.

  “Hi, it’s Troy.”

  “Troy, who?”

  For an airhead, he remembered, she was well connected. He released an exasperated sigh. “Troy McKnight, your fiancé.”

  “Oh, that Troy,” she said. “I’m sorry. I’m still in bed.”

  In bed? Their conversation in the cab came rushing back. Troy imagined her naked body between one hundred percent cotton sheets. The feel of her soft skin, the scent of her…What was he thinking? Cassie was a Roman candle about to burn his hand. “I’m sorry I called so early.”

  “No problem.”

  Not for her, at least.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, her sweet voice full of concern.

  “Yes, but Cassie?”

  “It’s Cassandra, go on.”

  She would always be Cassie to him. “Dixon called my boss this morning.”

  “Why?” She sounded alarmed. “What did he want?”

  “Nothing important. He asked my boss, Mick, some questions.”

  He could picture her biting her lower lip. “What questions?”

  “Mick didn’t say, but he increased my annual bonus and talked about making me a partner.”

  “I’m sure my father had nothing to do with it. I’m sure you’re a hard worker and deserve it.”

  He laughed at the way she tried to justify his good fortune. “I do deserve it, but your father made Mick realize I have other options. He made me realize that, too. I have you to thank. Our so-called engagement is actually helping me.” And could help him further. Who knew what pearls of wisdom he could pick up from Dixon Daniels over the course of a weekend? This was looking better and better.

  “You’re not angry?”

  Troy picked up a pen. “No.”

  “I thought after the gas money thing—”

  “This is different” He twirled the pen with his fingers. “Maybe I should be angry, but actually I’m happy.”

  “You deserve to be happy, Troy,” she said. “You’ll have to go out and celebrate.”

  Celebrate? If he went out with the guys, he’d only end up with a hangover the next morning. And what guys? Most were married with babies now. But he did deserve a celebration. Maybe Cassie would want to go. “Would you like to join me?”

  “When?”

  Why is she asking? It wasn’t like a date or anything. “Tonight?”

  Silence.

  Why the long pause? Static filled his receiver. He twirled the pen round and round. A phone rang somewhere else in the office. “Do you have other plans tonight?”

  “No.”

  If he didn’t give her a good reason for meeting him, she would say no. “Cassie, we are going to be spending the weekend together pretending to be engaged. We need to learn more about each other so we don’t make any mistakes. I want this weekend to go well, don’t you?”

  See, no date. A research meeting. Troy smiled at the reasoning. He almost believed it himself, but he couldn’t erase the image of Cassie between the sheets.

  “Yes,” she said finally. “I’m free after eight.”

  “Where do you live?” Troy asked, curious about what would keep her busy until eight o’clock.

  “Uh, Noe Valley.”

  “Do you want me to come there?”

  “Why don’t we meet by your place since you’re the one sacrificing a weekend to go to my parents’ house?”

  “Sounds fair.” He ignored a twinge of disappointment. He wanted to see where Cassie lived; he wanted to learn more about her. “Say nine o’clock, at the coffeehouse on the corner of Chestnut and Avila.”

  “You live in the Marina?”

  “Yes.”

  “Figures.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean, Cassie?”

  “Nothing,” she replied. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.” As Troy hung up the phone, he realized a scary thought—he was looking forward to seeing Cassie.

  Cassandra stepped off the bus at the corner of Fillmore and Chestnut. Walking toward the coffeehouse, she wove her way through the couples and groups of young professionals crowding the sidewalks on their way to one of the many restaurants, bars and shops on Chestnut Street.

  The Marina District. Cassandra fought the rush of memories. She’d tried to erase everything about her old life—the one her family had approved of, the stressful life that had nearly given her an ulcer. Maybe she’d done too good a job. She hadn’t been here in a long time. In a strange way it felt good to be back, but the street wasn’t the same.

  A Pottery Barn had replaced the all-night market. When she had lived here, she used to stop in on her way home from work. No matter what the time, the store always had what she wanted. A bar had replaced the toy store. She counted three juice bars and a new ice-cream place. Chestnut Street had changed and become more upscale than before. She didn’t know if the changes were for the better, but she hoped the displaced merchants had found better opportunities elsewhere.

  Cassandra stopped on the corner across from the coffeehouse. Two women wearing in-line skates sat outside at a small, round table. The place looked crowded.

  What was she doing here? All day, Cassandra had thought about meeting Troy. As she’d shelved books in the travel section of her bookstore, she’d daydreamed about a tropical island with hourglass fine sand and turquoise water. Troy had played a starring role. She couldn’t understand why. He seemed down-to-earth, but that’s what she’d thought about Eric. Until Emily.

  Thinking about Troy in any way other than casual acquaintance made zero sense. Look at the situation. Troy was pretending to be her fiancé. Did that make him dishonest? Like Eric? And what did that say about her since it was her idea?

  Not that it mattered. Troy was everything she wasn’t—ambitious, cautious, rigid.

  Still, he intrigued her, and men rarely intrigued her. She didn’t want them to. It wasn’t worth the risk.

  Something about Troy, though. Cassandra couldn’t put her finger on it—maybe his polite manners, maybe the twinkle of mis
chief in his eyes. Whatever it was, she wanted to learn more about her so-called fiancé. And that bothered her, more than she wanted to admit.

  Cassandra glanced at her watch. Quarter after nine. Only a little late. Squaring her shoulders, she made her way into the jam-packed coffee house. Alternative rock music blared from the overhead speakers. Customers crammed into the place. Every table was taken with people trying to talk over the music and other conversations. Two men played backgammon at a small square table; a man and a woman played Scrabble at another. She spotted Troy, reading the Wall Street Journal at a table in the back.

  “Hi,” she said. “Sorry I’m late.”

  As he folded his paper, he stood. “Let me guess, you’re always late.”

  His smile sent her stomach into cartwheels. “Yes, and I bet you’re always early.”

  “Usually.”

  His punctuality didn’t surprise her. And she would bet he even arrived on his expected due date. Troy McKnight was the kind of man to have scheduled his own birth. Good thing they weren’t engaged. She couldn’t handle living like that.

  Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. “For practice, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  She pulled a green lollipop out of her purse and handed it to him. “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.” He laughed at the dollar sign on the candy. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

  “No,” she said. “But I wanted to.”

  Reaching across the table, he pulled out a chair for her. “Have a seat.”

  She tossed her sweater over the back and sat. “What would you like to drink?”

  “It’s my treat, Cassie.”

  “I…” Tonight was his night so she would allow him to pay and let the name slide. “Since you’re on your way to megabucks, I’ll have a latte.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  As she sat at the table, Troy placed his order at the counter. She couldn’t help but notice the assessing and approving glances of other women. She couldn’t blame them. He looked so relaxed and casual in a pair of khakis and a navy polo shirt. Not at all like the businessman she’d found last night. Thank goodness he’d ditched the silk tie and button-down shirt. Only his ruffled hair looked the same.