Man of Her Dreams

by Tina Martin

  “I will. Take your time.”

  Trevor stepped out onto the porch and quickly answered, “Hello?”

  “Is this Trevor Myerson?”

  “It is.”

  “Hi, Trevor—Billie Dorsey here.”

  “Hi, Mr. Dor—”

  “You probably already know me,” Billie said, interrupting. “I’m kind of a big deal around these parks, but just in case, allow me to introduce myself. As I stated, I’m Billie Dorsey, the CEO and owner of EBN. What’s EBN? E-commerce Business Networks, my friend. Who are we? Only the largest e-commerce business in the Carolinas. And you probably are wondering why I’m calling you, right? Right. I’m calling you, Trevor Myerson to personally invite you for an interview with the head honcho. That would be me in case you were wondering. I’m looking for some top-notch business consultants for some upcoming projects. My wife said you did some work for some of her connects and those connects only had good things to say about you. She said you had your own firm. Is that right?”

  Shrew. Now, I know why they call you Billie ‘Big Mouth’ Dorsey. The man was a straight up talk-a-holic. “I do, Mr. Dorsey.”

  “Well, let’s get together one day next week and chop it up. I want to hear more about this company in more detail and determine if you’d be a good fit for the position. My wife says you are, but Billie Dorsey likes to interview all consultants. What day works best for you, my friend?”

  “How about next week Friday?” Trevor asked because pushing it out would give him time to figure out if he still wanted the job. He didn’t know how to feel about it at the moment, especially with Elsie being in the mix of this confusing deal.

  “Next Friday, you say?”

  “Yes, is that day good?”

  “Uh…let me see,” Billie said as if he was checking his calendar. “Yes, I can do next Friday. Let’s say nine o’clock.”

  “Works for me,” Trevor said.

  “Okay, Mr. Myerson. I’ll see you next week.”

  Trevor put the phone back into his pocket, feeling a nervous guilt punch him in the abdomen. He liked Elsie. This deal he made with her friend is what he didn’t like. It plagued him. The honest truth was, he wouldn’t have gotten a call from Billie if he hadn’t made the deal with Priscilla. In that same token, he would not have met Elsie if it wasn’t for her friend.

  He sighed. He couldn’t give his anxiety attention at the moment. Elsie was at his place and he wanted to focus on her. Besides, he had a favor to ask of her – one to which he had no doubt in his mind she would decline, but if she did, he’d have to convince her to go along with it.

  He stepped back inside, brewed coffee and removed some iced oatmeal cookies and cinnamon rolls from the cabinet. Then he walked down the hallway, trying to determine which room she was in. He found her admiring his private, master bath. She’d taken off her coat, scarf and hat and he studied her frame and the movement of her hair when she looked all around the bathroom. He watched as she touched the ceramic tiles and the sleek design of the sink fixture. “What do you think?”

  She jumped, then placed a hand over her heart when she turned around to see him standing there. “You scared me. I didn’t know you were behind me.”

  “My bad,” he said, coming to stand next to her.

  “It’s nice. Your bathroom is lovely. The whole house is.”

  “Yeah, I thought so, too.” Being this close to her in his place had his hands twitching again. He put them in his pockets so they’d behave. “I just put on some coffee. It should be ready in a few minutes.”

  “Is this your way of trying to get me out of your bathroom?”

  “No, stay as long as you like,” he told her.

  “It really is nice in here. If I ever move out of my apartment, I want a bathroom that looks just like this one,” she said, finally exiting the bathroom, following Trevor to the kitchen paying particular attention to how he walked. How had she never noticed the sexy swagger of his walk before? Good gawwd, the man had a walk that made her legs flimsy. He wore a pair of jeans like they were made exclusively for him, and the black turtleneck he had on hugged his chest and showcased the cuts of his muscles, broad shoulders and nearly made her lose her thoughts.

  In the kitchen, he opened a box marked ‘fragile’ looking for coffee mugs. He pulled out two of then – one with a broken handle – and placed them on the table.

  “I tried my best to be careful with the fragile items. Apparently, not careful enough, though.”

  “It’s cool,” Elsie said. “It’s still useable…forces you to wrap your fingers around it. As cold as it is outside, I don’t mind.”

  “I’m not going to let you use a broken coffee mug.”

  “I’m fine with it, Trevor, but your house, your rules.”

  He poured her a cup of coffee in the mug with a handle, tossed the broken one in the garbage and dug around in the box for a mug for himself.

  “Did you enjoy yourself this evening?” he inquired.

  “I did. What about you? Do you have some bags of frozen veggies you can use for all of your bruises?”

  He chuckled. “Nah. I’m a tough guy. I have a high pain threshold. I guess I got that from my father.”

  “Interesting.” Elsie took a sip. “While we were skating, I kept thinking about my parents. I should probably call them.”

  “You should. Why is there animosity between you and them?”

  “I wouldn’t call it animosity. My parents had a life planned out for me that I didn’t want, and because I went my own way, they sort of went their own way, too. Looking back, I can see how much they held me back. You said earlier that there was a difference between existing and living.”

  Trevor nodded.

  “With them, I existed, but I’ve never really lived. They taught me to be safe—to be scared of life and new things.”

  “Give me an example.”

  “Gee, I have plenty, but one that stands out is, I remember in high school wanting to play soccer but my dad told me I couldn’t because he was afraid I would get hurt somehow.”

  “So, they were overprotective?” he asked leaning on the counter, paying attention to her.

  “Very much so. And I was supposed to go to Boston University, the college they both graduated from, but I didn’t go. I couldn’t make myself go. It was the final straw for me. So, I left, got my own scholarships and loans and paid my way through UNC. Since I didn’t go to Boston University, they refused to pay any of my tuition. I’m still paying off my student loans. To this day.”

  He frowned. Her parents were vindictive, something she probably didn’t handle well as a young adult. “Well, I can’t judge them, but in my opinion, I think their actions were wrong. With that being said, it shouldn’t make you not talk to them you know. My father is a jerk, but I still talk to him, sparingly, because of the love I have for my mother.”

  “Why is he a jerk?”

  “He just is,” Trevor said, dodging the question.

  Elsie knew he was avoiding the topic, so she left it alone.

  Trevor drank more coffee. This was probably not the best time to bring up the idea of her tagging along as an imposter to visit his parents, but he decided to go for it, anyway. “Hey, I need a favor from you.”

  Her gaze connected with his serious one. “A favor?”

  “Yes.”

  “What kind of favor?”

  “I need you to come along with me on Friday night to visit my parents.”

  Her heart raced as she stared at him. He had to be joking, right? She erupted in laughter. “Good one, Trevor.”

  His eyes glinted while he stared at her with a straight face.

  Her laughter slowly subsided. “Wait…you aren’t joking, are you?”

  “No.”

  “You want me to go with you to your parent’s house?”

  “Yes, and—” He took a breath. Normally a straightforward guy, he found it difficult to ask this of her. “And I need you to pretend to be Rachel.”

/>   Her heart was beating like drums now. “You’re serious?” she asked, her eyebrows raised.

  “Yes, and I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t really need you to do this for me.”

  “Why do something like this at all, Trevor?”

  “I haven’t told my mother that me and Rachel broke up. I didn’t want to upset her.”

  “And you don’t think lying to her would upset her even more?”

  “You’re right, but at least it will buy me some time.”

  “Time to do what?”

  “To get settled in this place. To find a way to break it to her that her baby ain’t getting married after all. And it’ll give me time to figure out why Rachel ended things between us.”

  Her throat was so dry she could hardly swallow. She drank coffee to alleviate the dryness, but his stare made her more anxious. She didn’t understand his logic. She wasn’t sure he understood it himself. She definitely didn’t want Trevor’s mother to see her as a liar, and she didn’t even know the woman.

  “I know this is far more than what you expected to hear when I said I needed a favor, but think about it. It’ll be something you’ve never done before. Look at it as an adventure.”

  She raised a brow. “An adventure you say…”

  “Yes.”

  “How about nerve-racking, Trevor? It’s hard enough for me to be myself. Now, you’re asking me to be somebody else—a woman I suspect you’re still in love with.”

  “I’m not in love with Rachel.”

  “Then why do you give her so much power over your life?”

  Trevor rubbed a hand across his mustache and over his lips. “It’s like this—I loved her. She ended our relationship without any sort of explanation and I could never understand why.”

  “Then why not seek her out? Find out for sure.”

  “Because I don’t chase behind women who don’t want me,” he said in a hard, firm tone. “It’s been over a year since I’ve heard from her. I’m certain that’s the way she wants to keep it.”

  From Elsie’s viewpoint, he wouldn’t be upset if he still hadn’t had feelings for the woman. It was obvious to her that he had. “If I go along with this, what would I have to do?”

  He shot her a half smile and said, “Don’t worry about it, Ellie.”

  “Just tell me what I have to do,” she said.

  “Nah. Don’t worry about it. I shouldn’t have asked you to do this.”

  “Trevor, I said I’ll do it. Now, tell me what to do.”

  “All you would have to do is pretend to be my girl. That’s it.”

  That should be easy, she thought, especially since she’d been secretly doing that since they met. “And I have to go by Rachel’s name.”

  “Yes, unfortunately.”

  “Okay, then. In the spirit of living and not just existing, yes, I’ll be your fiancée. It’s just for the day, right?” she asked then took a sip of coffee.

  “No, the whole weekend.”

  Elsie coughed, nearly choked on coffee when she heard his response. “All weekend?”

  “Yes. We would leave Friday after you get off work and return to Charlotte Sunday night.”

  “And where would I stay?”

  “I’m sure my mother would request you stay at the house.”

  “So, we’re going to share a bedroom?”

  He grinned. “No. Ellie. You wouldn’t share a bedroom with me. My mother wouldn’t allow it. She’s old school that way. According, to her, men and women shouldn’t cohabitate unless they’re married. Since we’re not married, she’d put us up in separate rooms for sure.”

  “How big is their home?”

  “It’s a two-level, five-bedroom house. There’s plenty of room for us.”

  Elsie nervously chewed on her lip. “I don’t know, Trevor. I would feel so bad lying to your mother.”

  “It’ll be fine. I’ll explain everything to her, eventually.”

  “Okay, well, I guess I can do it.”

  “I need you to be sure. If there’s any doubt in your mind, I don’t want you to come.”

  “I’m sure,” she said. She cracked a smile. While this scenario wasn’t ideal, at least it would give her more time with her dream man, so why not? She couldn’t remember the last time she left Charlotte and Trevor was a fun man to hang around. She wanted to know more about him, his family and his life outside of the things he told her. This was one way she could easily do that.

  Chapter 17

  Elsie

  I told Karsheeda where I’d be for the weekend, just in case I came up missing, but I didn’t tell Priscilla a thing. These last few days I’ve been free of her antics have actually been pretty nice. She’s a friend, but sometimes, her mannerisms and attitude get to me. I’m surprised I’ve tolerated it for so long.

  I’m surprised about a lot of things lately. Who would’ve ever thought I’d agree to leave town with a guy I hardly know to pretend to be his fiancée? What the heck am I doing? We’re thirty minutes into our drive to Boone and my stomach turns sour. And Trevor is unusually quiet. Great. He waits until I agree to go away with him to get all weird on me.

  “So, did you tell your friend, Priscilla, where you’d be this weekend?” he asks.

  “No.”

  “Did you tell anyone?”

  I glance at him sideways. He has on a sweater the color of coffee creamer, a pair of khakis and brown Sperry’s on his feet. No socks. Call me crazy, but I always found it odd for men to wear shoes without socks.

  “Ellie?”

  “Oh, um, yes. I told my co-worker.”

  “Humph,” he says.

  Humph. What does that mean? Okay, now I’m getting nervous. “You didn’t want me to tell anyone?” I ask.

  “You can tell whoever you want,” he says, grinning. “I just think it’s odd that you didn’t tell your best friend.”

  “Oh.” I can see how he thinks that’s odd. It’s odd for me not to drag Priscilla into every aspect of my world, but sometimes it’s not good for everyone to know everything about you – even if they are your friend. Or sister. Or brother. Sometimes, we need our own secrets – things we don’t share with anyone.

  “Why didn’t you tell her?” he asks.

  “Because I didn’t feel like hearing her opinion about my decision to go with you.”

  “Have you told her anything about me?”

  “No.”

  “Nothing?” he asked, his thick eyebrows raised.

  “No. Not a thing.”

  “I’m your little secret, huh?”

  I don’t respond. I look at him, tracing his face with my eyes, memorizing it. “I guess we should get to know the basics about each other so your mom doesn’t suspect anything.”

  “Right,” he says, agreeing with me.

  “Okay…what are your favorite foods besides steak?”

  “Uh…fried chicken, brussel sprouts—”

  “Brussel sprouts? You’re kidding?”

  “No, I love ‘em. I’m sure mom will make some this weekend, and before you count them out, you should really try hers. She’s a phenomenal cook.”

  “O-kay…”

  “What about you? What are your favorite foods?” he asks.

  “Um…chicken, potato salad, anything stir-fried.”

  “Anything?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, if I make stir-fried alligator, you game?”

  “Yuck. No way.”

  He chuckles. “You said anything.”

  “Okay, well let me be more specific. Veggies, chicken, shrimp or steak.”

  “Ah…got it.”

  “What kind of music do you like?” I ask.

  “Jazz, old school R&B. You?”

  “Um…” I say, thinking about it.

  “And if you say Taylor Swift, I’m turning around and taking you back home.”

  I can’t speak for laughing so hard. “Okay, honestly, I do like some Taylor Swift songs, but she’s not my favorite artist. I’m more of a Jill
Scott, Floetry kinda girl, although me and Karsheeda be turning up to some trap music to get us through the workday.”

  “Trap music,” he repeats, shaking his head. “That’s what’s wrong with the world today.”

  I laugh, then get back to the questioning by asking, “So, what do I say when your mother asks if we’re having kids.”

  He shrugs. “You tell me. Do you want kids?”

  A hot flash slams into me. The process of making kids with this man would be magical. Giving birth to his green-eyed babies would be an honor. I’m so heated thinking about it, I have to crack a window.

  “Oh, are you warm? I can turn the heat off.”

  Shoot, he could turn the AC on and I’d still be warm. “Why are you asking me if I want kids? I need to know your answer because I’m certain your mother knows whether her only son wants babies. If I say no when the answer should be yes, that’ll certainly raise some red flags.”

  “You’re right. Yes, I want children.”

  “How many?”

  “As many as you can pop out.”

  My giggles fill his jeep. “Okay, stop talking like you’re actually my man and let’s look at this objectively.”

  “I am your man this weekend, and that’s how you should be looking at it, too.”

  “Okay,” I say, lowering the window a tad more.

  He glances over at me, then returns his attention back to the road. “You’re too young to be having hot flashes.”

  Not when I’m sitting next to a guy as hot as you. I glance over at him and he has this evil smirk on his face like he knows what he’s doing by making certain comments to me. When I’m cool enough to get my head back on right, I put the window back up which was probably too soon because the next thing that comes out of his mouth is, “We should probably practice showing affection. At some point, they will need to see us kiss.”

  “Kiss?” I say, throatily.

  “Yes, you’re my fiancée. We need to be somewhat affectionate.”

  “But I thought you said your mother frowned upon that kind of thing.”