by Marie Harte
Mia snickered. “You have to admit, this makes for one hell of a blog post. We’ll call it ‘A Case of Mistaken Identity: Call Girls Part One.’”
“Shut it.”
Mia and Trent shared more laughter, and even Gwen had to see the humor in the situation.
“How was I supposed to know he wasn’t the fiancé? And you.” She turned to Trent. “I can’t believe you’re okay with my date. After all, this Aaron guy was hitting on Mia, not me.”
Trent’s smile faded, and he turned to Mia. “Is that right?”
She blushed. “Come on. I told you what happened at Sam’s.”
“Apparently I missed the part about some jackass flirting with you.”
“Then you must not have been listening when I told you about the loser at the buffet table.” Mia started to sound angry, and Gwen knew a throwback to an earlier argument was coming. Mia had a problem with what she called Trent’s “lack of focus on her issues.”
In other words, he was a typical guy who heard maybe fifty percent of what Mia rattled on about on a daily basis. God love her, Mia liked to talk.
“Before you two get started,” Gwen interrupted. “Trent, give me the lowdown on Dawson. He seems like a jerk.”
“He’s not. Conlan’s a good guy. Truly. You have to feel for him. His sister’s boyfriend is a complete dick. I’ve met Aaron.” He spared a glare at Mia. “And I can’t stand him. Even worse, he’s the father of her kid. So any way you look at it, she’s stuck with him for life.”
Mia shook her head. “Not necessarily. A lot of guys will bail if they don’t have to pay support. She could draft up some kind of contract to get rid of him.”
Gwen nodded. “Good point. If his character rings true, he’ll take a deal like that.”
“I never would.” Trent shook his head. “Especially if it were mine and Mia’s baby.”
Mia’s eyes grew wide. “Oh. Wow.”
Trent smirked. “Getting scared?”
“Of commitment? No. A baby? You bet your ass.”
Gwen laughed. “And you say I have issues.”
Trent and Mia answered together, “You do.”
“No, guys. Tell me how you really feel.”
Mia slurped more soup before saying, “Well, this whole situation happened because you wanted to teach the ass-hat a lesson.”
“One well deserved,” Trent muttered.
“True,” Mia agreed. “But still. Lying to Conlan, then him lying to you, it’s kind of ironic.”
“Not to mention it makes for awkward work at the Bend Voice,” Gwen said.
“Oh?” Trent stared from Gwen to Mia.
When Gwen explained her new work situation, Trent started laughing all over again. “This is too funny to be anything but real. God. You and Conlan working together on its own is a recipe for disaster. You two are the most controlling people I know.”
“Amen,” Mia said.
“Then to think you hate each other because you both thought the other was a cheater… Actually, it kind of fits. Your ex stepped out on you, and Conlan’s did the same to him.”
Mia blinked. “Wow. It’s like you two are fated to get together. That’s if you don’t kill each other first.”
Gwen felt even worse about perpetrating her scheme, hearing how Conlan had similarly suffered from a broken heart. “You’re not making me feel any better.”
“Really? Eat more soup.” Trent nodded to her nearly empty bowl. “I brought plenty.”
“If only soup could cure my hate-hate relationship with Conlan.” She sighed and spooned more of the good stuff.
Mia pointed at her. “Buck up, little buckaroo. Ten’ll get you twenty once you start working together, he’ll fall for your charm and massively amazing writing talent. Before you know it, you’ll be best friends. Heck, maybe he’s already starting to mellow.”
“You never know,” Trent said. “Conlan’s a laid-back guy, not the type to hold a grudge.”
Which made her feel a lot better. Gwen planned to apologize the next time they spoke, most likely tomorrow, when they talked about the upcoming TV show.
Pleased about their possible détente, she scrolled through her e-mails and read one Karen cc’d her on, an introduction to Conlan’s work. She read his recent advice column and saw red. His advice to the lovelorn didn’t show him as an easygoing guy at all. The patronizing diatribe came from a man trying to make a point about loose women with little care for marriage and commitment. But that last line he’d aimed at her: And to all you men out there, a word of advice. Never trust a female wearing a rose-print dress.
Chapter Three
Dear TAO (Taken Advantage Of),
Your feelings of belittlement and tale of betrayal remind me of an unfortunate date I recently experienced. I took a woman out to dinner. She wore a pretty rose-print dress, and though she’d overdone the eyeliner something fierce and had teased her hair God knew for how long, I appreciated that she’d taken the time to dress for me.
Then she not only hit on me, thinking I was engaged to a pregnant woman, she stiffed me with a nearly three-hundred-dollar dinner bill.
What can you do when life—or a woman with loose morals—hands you lemons? You make lemonade by warning others how to avoid female predators.
Those alley cats strutting their stuff are firmly in the wrong. Here’s how you can avoid falling into the trap I wandered into. Be wary, be safe, and be cautious, my friend.
Number one…
Gwen scowled at Conlan’s article, a tension headache brewing as she reread what she’d written for the upcoming week. She’d have to revise it. No way could she give him a tepid peace offering in the form of “Not All Men Are Pigs”—not when he’d clearly thrown down the gauntlet.
Karen’s loud guffaws and enjoyment from Conlan’s article further annoyed Gwen. Not content with the e-mail she’d sent, Gwen’s boss had actually called her at home to read aloud his column.
There was nothing Karen loved more than stirring emotions in her readers. So Gwen went back to work and revised her current article. She left nothing about the advice she’d intended to give, so as to introduce a fairness about both genders. Hell, no. She was pulling out both barrels. The joint project could wait.
Pleased at her take on the Insider’s poor version of Dear Abby, and using TAO as a woman, not a man, Gwen worded her advice with the right amount of snark and care.
Oh yeah. This would get a rise out of Conlan. So much for trying to be the better person and apologize. After his article, she had a feeling nothing but all-out war would solve her problems with the pretend cheater.
The following day, she met with Karen at work. As expected, Karen loved her written hostility, so much so that she put mention of the article on the edition’s cover.
Pleased at the attention, Gwen chatted with her editor and had just readied to leave when Conlan entered the outer office, no doubt looking for Karen.
He came closer, spoke to someone, then turned in Karen’s direction. He spotted her and glanced at Gwen. His eyes narrowed, and she could almost feel the ice between them. When he reached them, he gave Karen a respectful nod, then said to Gwen, “I want to talk to you.”
She glared at him but nodded to the conference room. Might as well get the unpleasantness over in private. Well, she could shut the door, but she couldn’t do much about the walls of windows showcasing them. “In there.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.” Jerk. She walked in front of him and entered, then shut the door after him. “Well? I have work to do, Dawson. No time to play around with you Insider slackers.”
He snorted. “Whatever. You put out a paper once a week. Gee, that’s tough.”
“You wanted something?” He frowned and studied her with a look she couldn’t read. “Hello? Not getting any younger here.”
“I saw Trent this morning. He told me you thought I was Aaron.”
“Yeah. I tried telling you that the other day, but you cut me off.”
> “So it was your cousin Aaron was flirting with? Not you?”
“Don’t do me any favors believing me. I wasn’t at Sam’s party that Saturday night. I was out to dinner with my parents.”
“Uh-huh.”
Damn. He sounded as if he didn’t believe her. “Your point?” she asked with bite.
“My point is, I’m curious as to what you thought you were doing meeting me—Aaron—there at all.”
“Didn’t Trent explain?”
“I want you to.”
She rolled her eyes and refrained from a majorly immature you’re not the boss of me. “Fine. Like you, I had planned to teach a cheater a lesson. I probably should have let it go after Mia first told me. Mia’s my cousin.”
“I know.”
“Yeah, well, like I said, I should have let it go. But then Mia told me about your sister being pregnant and all. I just… That’s wrong on so many levels.” She grew angry just thinking about it. “For that jerk to flirt with another woman, to write a frickin’ craigslist post to meet, while he’s engaged and his fiancée is pregnant… I mean, what the hell?”
Conlan sighed. “You got that right.”
“You need to get that POS away from your sister.”
“Don’t you think I’ve tried?”
He ran a hand through his hair, and for a minute, she felt sorry for him. “That sucks.”
They stood in silence, each measuring the other.
“So, uh, I guess we can put away the verbal knives and play nice now?” she offered.
He chuckled, and his grin took her breath away. God, he was handsome.
“Sure. As long as you aren’t trying to stick me for another bill.”
She flushed. “About that… I’m sorry. I’ll split it with you.”
“Nah.” He waved her away. “If it really had been Aaron at the restaurant, he’d have had it coming.” His gaze narrowed. “One thing, though. That kiss in the restroom.”
He just had to bring that up.
She swallowed, hoping she didn’t look as red as she felt. “The kiss?”
“The one you planted on me while I was bleeding from a head wound?” he reminded her with sarcasm.
And there went her compassion for Mr. Arrogant. “You mean the kiss you instigated?” she asked with mock confusion. “I remember sitting in your lap, trying to help you out. Then you gripped my hips, grinding into me with that iron bar in your pants, and turned a flirtation into something else.”
He blinked. “So you’re saying I hit on the woman I thought was making time with my sister’s boyfriend?”
“You’re saying I tried to French the loser cheating on his pregnant fiancée? It was supposed to be a brief, punishing kiss. Then you turned it into something more.”
They stared at each other, stymied, apparently, because she had no intention of confessing he’d turned her on so much she’d lost herself in his kiss. And he didn’t seem to be able to admit the truth either.
Huh.
“Well, this is awkward.” He glared at her.
Her anger faded, and she chuckled. “On that we agree. Look, Karen wants us to work together. Why don’t we do the advice thing, play fair, and keep our opinions about each other civil? No more rose-dress comments either.”
“You saw that, eh?”
He smiled, and of course that dimple chose to show itself. So not fair.
“What did you think?”
“Except for calling me a two-bit whore—and hello, is that an Old West throwback or what?—I agreed with much of what you said…if you’d been talking from the woman’s perspective. Men suck.”
“What’s that? As I recall, you’re the one that stuck me with the bill.”
“Which I offered to repay. Or at least split it with you.”
He just stared at her, making her nervous, since she couldn’t read his expression. “Are you going to hit me?”
“What?” He scowled. “Hell, no. I was thinking—”
“Ah. So that’s your I’m-in-pain face.”
He grinned. “You really are a smart-ass. That wasn’t part of your costume the other night, was it?”
“Nope. The dress, the hair, the glop on my face, all pretend. The smart-ass? All me.”
“Okay. So for the other night, reparations are in order.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“That. I want an apology. A real date, a real dinner, and this time, we split the bill.”
“You’re asking me out?”
“To clear the air.” He nodded, looking enthusiastic about the prospect. “I think it would do us both good.”
The thinking part of her brain yelled hell, no. But she couldn’t look away from his big brown eyes. Then she caught a hint of his dimple again and sighed. “Okay.”
“Great. How about I meet you at that new Thai place at eight tomorrow night? Would that work?”
“I like Thai food. Sure.” She gave him a narrowed stare. “I’m not wearing a dress. This is a casual dinner. Jeans and a T-shirt, all the way.”
“Great. Me too.”
Odd, because the guy hadn’t worn a T-shirt yet, just all those sexy button-down shirts showing his forearms and hints of his throat and chest. That thick, broad chest…
She coughed. “Ah, okay. Thai Heaven at eight.”
He nodded, held out a hand, and waited for her to take it.
When they shook, that infernal heat traveled from the contact to her girlie parts. To her embarrassment, her nipples hardened, and she felt a distinct flutter in her belly.
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t be late,” he ordered in a gravelly voice. “See you…Gwen.”
“Don’t stand me up…Conlan.” She glared back at him.
Instead of looking annoyed, the charmer smiled. “I won’t.”
Unfortunately, she believed him.
* * * *
Conlan arrived at Thai Heaven at the same time Gwen did. A good start to the evening, in his opinion. As warned, she wore a pair of jeans and a T-shirt under a thermal jacket. Spring still had a bite of cold to it, and the evening had taken a dive into the upper thirties. Typical Bend weather.
“So much for your attempt at casual,” she said as they were seated.
He glanced down at himself. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“Nothing. But I wonder if you even own a T-shirt.”
His button-down denim shirt tucked into khakis was dressing down, for him. “Okay. But hey, my shoes have laces.”
“Dockers,” she muttered, then hid behind her menu.
He liked that she’d worn her hair down and had little makeup on. He’d seen some eyeliner and maybe a hint of lipstick before she’d ducked behind the menu.
“Afraid to face me?” he taunted.
She put the menu flat down on the table. “Try again.”
Yep. Gorgeous eyes. Such a vivid blue, nothing soft about them. He smothered a smile. “I thought we’d spend the dinner talking to each other, getting a feel for how we think. That will help when we do the talk show together. That, and I’d like for us to play our advice off each other.”
“Together?”
“Karen didn’t tell you? Our segment is going to air during the nightly news. Should be fun.”
“Oh, man. I hate the televised aspect of this thing. The idea is great, but why do we have to be in the spotlight?”
He shrugged. “Why not? It’s not like we don’t already have our own columns.”
She opened her mouth to respond when the waiter appeared. They placed their orders before she said, “So you’re a glory hound.”
He stared at her, amused when she blushed.
“What?” she snapped.
“I can’t tell if it’s that mean streak that makes you so attractive or your glasses. I’m a sucker for a smart woman wearing glasses.”
“Which I’m no longer wearing.” She snorted. “A glory hound and a smooth talker. Aren’t I lucky?”
“I’d say so.”
&n
bsp; “So how do you know Trent?”
Pretty, intelligent, and wise enough to change the subject into an area that wouldn’t get either of them into too much trouble.
He found out they had a lot in common. They knew the same people—he’d actually met Mia through Trent but had never placed her as Gwen’s cousin—shared a love of the written word, and had dealt with a lot of irritable editors over the years.
Over dessert, Gwen blurted, “Trent said your ex cheated on you.”
“Trent has a big mouth.”
“That he does. He’s just like Mia.”
She ate some more cheesecake, and her blissful expression made him harder than he’d been most of the night. All evening he’d been battling an erection that wouldn’t quit. Gwen Wilcox turned him on like crazy. He knew their relationship would progress a lot further than just being coworkers or tentative friends. He had to have her, to at least see if she lived up to the hype building in his fantasies. The question remained, though, as to how to get her into his bed and without regret?
“I’m sorry if I pried where I shouldn’t have,” she apologized.
He sighed. “No worries. I’m over Ally. She was a nightmare there at the end. Super jealous and worried about what I might be doing because she had her own secrets to keep. Woman was doing her boss. So cliché.”
“Bummer.” She winced. “Though that’s probably another reason you were so adamant about teaching me a lesson.”
“You could say that.” He paused, seeing a hint of whipped cream at the corner of her lips. “You have some cream on your mouth.”
“Oh.”
She licked it clean, and he contained a groan.
“Better?”
“Yeah,” he rasped, gratified to see the flush over her cheeks as well. “So you know my ex cheated on me. How about you? What made you so angry about Aaron?”
“I’m protective of my cousin. But I guess it was more about teaching that creep a lesson. My ex cheated too. Even worse, he used my credit card to fund his playdates.”
“Ouch.”
She smiled, but he caught a hint of anger in her expression.
“I’m supposed to be over my, and I quote, ‘man-hating phase.’ I am,” she hurried to say when he raised a brow. “But I still get really angry at the thought of a guy cheating on his girlfriend or wife. When Mia told me about Aaron, and that Lisa was pregnant… I mean, come on.”
