I’d hired a designer to decorate it because I liked nice things and had no clue how to put them together to make a comfortable but stylish apartment. He’d gone a little heavier on the leather than I would have preferred but I did like the masculine vibe. The desk was a raw-edge wood sculpture and I sat down in the chair behind it, flipping open my laptop. I was dressed but didn’t have my jacket or shoes on yet. Shoes in the apartment made my skin crawl. Too many damn germs in the city to keep your footwear on inside.
As I ran over my notes on the projected numbers for the conversion of one of the few remaining office buildings in the area around Times Square to a luxury hotel, I wondered how much Leah’s rent was. That had been one very small bedroom. My berth on the ship had been bigger than that. Of course, I’d shared it with a guy from Omaha, and at least Leah had the room to herself, but still, it was small.
For half a second my brain went to knocking down walls and making it a high-end studio apartment before I halted those thoughts. I had other current projects.
My phone buzzed with a text with an unknown number.
If you wanted my number you could have asked before you left my apartment.
I smiled, pleased Leah had responded so quickly. Then again, she was probably bored. Hadn’t she told me she was going to spend the afternoon lying naked in bed and watching YouTube? The image of that made me groan out loud. I texted her back.
I was distracted by you naked in bed.
You could have waited until next Wednesday.
That wouldn’t give me enough time before the weekend anniversary party to convince her to go to the Hamptons with me.
I have something I want to ask you.
So ask.
In person.
I whirled my chair around so I could see out the large window of my office. The view was of Madison Square Park and it was bustling on the fall day. When Leah didn’t respond right away, I texted her again.
Let me see you tomorrow.
I have play practice.
Where is the theater? I’ll meet you there.
I’m not having sex with you in the dressing room.
That made me laugh out loud. I hadn’t even thought about how my request would sound.
I wish you would, though that wasn’t my original plan. I really did just want to talk to you, but thanks for putting the idea in my head.
She sent me an eyeroll emoji.
Since she wasn’t saying yes and she wasn’t saying no, I pushed.
What time tomorrow? What theater?
She responded with an address and seven p.m.
Then she texted, “Bossy.”
I smiled.
Persistent.
She didn’t respond, which didn’t surprise me. I was probably tempting her to send another eyeroll emoji.
I called my buddy Trevor, who was a talent agent. “Hey, how much do theater actresses make an hour?”
“Why, are you hiring a girlfriend, loser?”
“As a matter of a fact, yes.”
“Shut the fuck up.” The wind was rustling and it was clear he was walking outside. Horns blew in the background. “You cannot be serious.”
“Wish I wasn’t.” I gave him the lowdown on the current situation with my father. Trevor and I had gone to boarding school together. He knew my family situation and I knew his. The gay son of a former NBA star, he was no stranger to familial expectations and complicated relationships. “I found a loophole and I’m taking it, so not a word to anyone about this. As far as you know, I’m really fucking into this girl and you think we’re a great couple.”
“That’s really messed up, even for your family. I don’t even understand why your parents care.”
“That is the thirty-billion-dollar question. Now give me some numbers. I don’t want to insult her.”
“Give me parameters. I’m assuming you’ll be kissing and whatnot. But is there on-screen nudity?”
“What?” Instantly my mind went to Leah in her bed just hours earlier, stretching, her breasts rising and beckoning to me. “What do you mean?”
“Will there be a situation in which she has to make it look authentic? Like posing for Sunday morning bed pics for social media where she’s mostly naked next to your mostly naked ugly ass. That calls for a pay increase.”
“I hadn’t thought that far, but that’s a damn good idea.” A big bed. A California king that I could roll around in with Leah, taking her every which way I could…
Damn it. My head wasn’t on straight. Too much pleasure in the middle of a business day. I needed to get it together before my meeting.
“Got it. So partial nudity.” Trevor gave me a number. “If I were you, I’d give her a script to follow and a character to play. Don’t just stroll into this cold without a plan.”
He had a good point. “You’re good at this lying game.”
“Made a career out of dealing with actors. Trust me, I’ve seen a lot of ego and plenty of bullshit.”
“You and me both. Speaking of, I have a meeting I need to prepare for so I’ll talk to you later. Thanks for the info, I appreciate it.”
“Good luck with deceiving your parents.”
That made me laugh. “Desperate times, man.”
We ended the call and I turned back to my notes on the Times Square project. I was in for a busy night. Trevor was right. I needed to create a character for Leah to play. Mostly the real her, because I thought she was pretty amazing as is, but with knowledge about my life and family.
I called Darren. “Did you send that care package?”
“Yes, it should be arriving by four p.m.”
“Cool.”
What actress could resist both a paycheck and a gift? “What was in it, by the way? So I don’t sound clueless if she mentions it.”
I was only half listening to Darren as I spun my chair. Then I sat straight up. “You sent her what? What the fuck!”
“What? What’s wrong with that? You said send your mistress something to make her feel better and that there was no budget.”
“I never said mistress. I don’t have a mistress.” Who the hell had said I had a mistress? What, was I seventy? This had to be the straight-up strangest day I’d had in a long time. Not bad. But very strange. I couldn’t even remember what I had said to Darren that would give him the impression I had a woman I paid to fuck. “Can you cancel the delivery?” Leah was going to think I was a complete asshole.
“I can call and find out but it’s probably already out for delivery. I was trying to be efficient. I’m really sorry, Mr. Caldwell.” My assistant sounded miserable and mortified. “You said she serves you every Wednesday and I thought…”
I was almost tempted to laugh. “She’s my waitress at the diner every Wednesday.”
Darren made a strangled sound of mortification. “Oh, shit. You can fire me. I deserve it.”
“I’m not firing you. Don’t be dramatic. Next time, I’ll be more specific. Now I’ll talk to you later, I’m late for my meeting.”
“You can’t be late to that meeting.”
“I know, that’s why I have to go.”
I ended the call and went for my suit jacket, pondering how in the hell I was supposed to apologize to Leah for accidentally sending her a sex toy.
“I know I said I would meet you at the bar but can you just pop up to my apartment for a sec? I need your opinion on a delivery I got today.” I eyed the package in question with huge suspicion. Why the heck would Grant send me a box? The return address had his full name and an apartment somewhere in Midtown.
“Oh, I plan to give you my opinion on your hookup,” Dakota said. “Though I don’t see why we can’t do that over a drink.”
“Not his package.” I didn’t need outside opinions on that. That was phenomenal. “The package he just sent me via bicycle deliveryman.”
“What, is it flowers or something? That seems a little aggressive.”
“It’s not flowers.” The box was the wrong shape. I had
no idea what it could be.
“Well, what is it?”
“I haven’t opened it yet.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because it’s weird, right? Isn’t it weird? I’ve never had a guy send me a package hours after we hooked up. What if it’s something psycho? I will be really sad if Grant turns out to be psycho.” That would kill the afterglow, which, I wasn’t going to lie, I was still enjoying hours later.
“Does it smell like a severed head? Because I think you should just call the police instead.” Dakota didn’t sound particularly concerned. Clearly, she thought I was overreacting.
“I don’t know what a severed head smells like.”
“I don’t either, but I mean, I’m sure it smells bad. Like death.”
I bent over the box and sniffed. It smelled like cardboard and a hint of something floral. Maybe it was flowers. “It might be flowers.”
“Oh my God, just open it. Grant isn’t being weird, you are. I’m downstairs, by the way. Buzz me in.”
I hit the button to let Dakota in, relieved she was going to be there when I opened the box. I was intrigued, yes. Unnerved, also yes. Grant said he had a question to ask me. In person. I was never involved with guys like Grant. Confident, wealthy, demanding. I had no clue what to expect and I’d been very tempted to tell him I couldn’t see him the next day, out of pure preservation, but at the same time I was too damn curious to say no.
Dakota swept into my apartment the way she always did, with a booming voice and swinging blonde hair. “Open that box before I die of curiosity.” She followed me into my room as I hobbled carefully on my sprained ankle.
The delivery was on my bed so I held it up and then said, “I’m going in.” It felt maybe a little dramatic. Dakota was right—I was probably super overreacting. I ripped it open. Inside was another gift box. Inside that were some drugstore supplies meant to help with my ankle.
Not weird at all.
There was a note that was printed, not handwritten. “Hope you feel better soon.” It was just signed “G.”
“It’s a bandage for my ankle.” I pulled that out, along with a gel pack that was meant to go in the freezer for swelling. “That’s sweet and very normal.”
“See? When are you so paranoid? That’s totally normal.”
And then it got not normal. Because under the initial ankle assist aids was another aid entirely. “Um. Wow. Like, just wow.”
“What?” Dakota crowded me and peered into the box. “Is that a vibrator?”
It most definitely was a vibrator. In a box, brand new. Sparkly. Hot pink. Very large. “Yes. Why the hell would he send me a vibrator?” I didn’t even know how to comprehend that. “Who does that after one afternoon together?”
“I have no idea but look at this thing. This is top of the line. I’m jealous. I could use this.” Dakota picked up the box and studied it. “Seven speeds and a remote. Nice. Hey, there’s something else in here too.” She pulled out a velvet rectangular box and gave it to me.
I flicked it open, my brain telling me the box was suggestive of a fancy pen. Like the kind my father got when he logged in thirty years at his company.
It definitely wasn’t a pen. It was a diamond bracelet. “Holy…” I instinctively lifted it up out of the box and stared at it as it dangled in front of me.
“Is that real?” Dakota asked.
“I don’t know, I’m not a jeweler.” It sure looked real though. Panicked, I dropped it, tossing it back in the large box, not the jewelry case it had come in. “Dakota, I think I’m a hooker and I don’t know it!”
She let out a crack of laughter.
I glared at her.
She stopped and looked contrite. “Sorry. But why does this make you a hooker? I don’t understand.”
“Because I had sex with Grant and he refused to take back the hundred bucks he tipped me at the diner. And now this. Who else do you give a hundred dollars, a vibrator, and diamonds too?” I didn’t even know how to feel about it. It wasn’t exactly a compliment, though maybe it was. He must have enjoyed himself.
“Your girlfriend?”
“We’ve never even been on a date!”
“Maybe he likes to move fast.” Dakota pulled out the bracelet. “It’s really beautiful. Maybe this is normal for rich guys.”
“I can’t say I have any experience with rich men. Maybe I should call Felicia. She’ll know. She constantly dates rich guys.” Felicia was another of our friends we had bonded with over many auditions as young hopefuls in the city years earlier.
There was a buzzing, and fortunately, it was my phone, not the vibrator. I pulled my phone off my dresser and then dropped it down on the bed next to the box like it was on fire. “Holy crap, Grant is calling me. What do I do?”
“Answer it.” Dakota put the bracelet back in the box carefully and closed the lid.
I had absolutely no idea what to say to him. None. But I did answer because the vibrator and diamond bracelet were staring me down. I needed to at least try to get some kind of explanation as to what the hell his gifts meant. “Hello?”
“If you’ve gotten a package from me and already opened it, I apologize. If you didn’t get it yet, please don’t open it.”
Interesting. Now I was very curious. Did he doubt his initial offer or did he send me the wrong box? Maybe he’d combined my care package of bandages and ice packs with a real hooker. Or maybe he’d lied and he did have a girlfriend. Neither of which would thrill me, but I did want to know the truth. “I opened it.”
He groaned. “Damn. I’m sorry. I told my assistant to send you a care package. Apparently in Darren’s mind, spraining your ankle means you might want an orgasm to feel better. Little did he know I’d already given you one.”
“Actually, you gave me two.”
Grant made a sound of satisfaction. “And that wasn’t even my best work.”
I cleared my throat, reflecting for a minute on that. Yum.
I wondered exactly what kind of assistant would think that made sense as a care package or if it was any reflection of the gifts Grant usually sent.
Not that it was any of my business. He could have delivery dildos sent all over Manhattan and it was absolutely not my concern. Right? Tell me I was right.
I wrinkled my nose. I was probably trying to convince myself too hard that I didn’t care what Grant did.
“I’ll keep the bandage and the gel pack, but I feel like I should give back the bracelet and the vibrator. Though I don’t suppose you can return either of those to the store.”
“There was a bracelet too?”
“Yep. Diamond tennis bracelet.”
I thought he would be angry because that was no cheap-looking bracelet but he actually started laughing. “I didn’t give great parameters for this package.”
That would be a massive understatement. Now that I knew what was what, it was kind of humorous. “I appreciate the thought but it really wasn’t necessary. Like, seriously. Sending me a vibrator wasn’t necessary.”
Dakota was making gestures at me like she wanted to know what was being said but I waved her off.
“The next time I send you a gift I’ll pick it out myself. I promise.”
Why did those words make me shiver? He didn’t mean anything by it. He was clearly joking, trying to smooth over this whole awkward situation but my heart leaped. Just a little. Damn it. Not good.
Which was why it made no sense when I opened my mouth and said, “I’m more of a necklace girl. And something simple with sex toys. I lose remotes too easily.”
Grant made a strangled sound. “There was a remote? Leah…”
Dakota was making a rude gesture, grinning.
“Yes?” I asked Grant.
“It’s a good thing my meeting is over because now I’m hard as a rock picturing you with a remote-control vibrator.”
“Not my fault,” I said cheerfully, feeling better about everything. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Grant. My friend is here and w
e’re heading downstairs for a ‘you sprained your ankle today’ cocktail.”
“Enjoy your night.” His voice went lower. “Keep the gifts. Do whatever you want with them. Just don’t let them go to waste.”
I shivered because his tone was clear. He really was picturing me with the vibrator. A shot of heat went through my body. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Ending the call, I fanned myself. “Dakota, I’m in trouble.”
“I think this is a classic example of ‘you’re fucked.’ Literally.” She grinned at me. “I say go for it.”
“He didn’t mean to send the vibrator or the bracelet. His assistant misunderstood.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Can his assistant send me a package too? That is one pricey vibe and I can’t afford that.”
I laughed. “Like a vibrator outreach program for struggling artists?” I set the box on my dresser and ran my hands over the velvet box. For sure, the bracelet had to go back to Grant. I couldn’t keep that, no matter what he said. “Let’s go grab that drink.”
It was a good thing I had Dakota to distract me or I would not have been able to shake thoughts of Grant Caldwell the third.
He was an intriguing man, very different from other men I’d been involved with.
I couldn’t wait to see him the next day and that annoyed me.
I needed to tell him no to whatever it was he had to ask me.
The answer needed to be no.
Chapter 5
I wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
I wasn’t going to lose my position at Caldwell Enterprises and I needed Leah to be my fake girlfriend. Sure, I could hire a total stranger if she said no but there were two reasons I didn’t want that to happen.
One, we’d had sex already so the chemistry between us was real and could easily be put on display.
Two, I wanted Leah.
Plain and simple. I didn’t want to fake date someone else. I wanted to fake date Leah.
Weekend Wife: A Fake Fiancée Romantic Comedy Standalone Page 6
