His 24-Hour Wife (The Hawke Brothers 2)

by Rachel Bailey

  Develop immunity to his presence.

  He raised an eyebrow and she realized she was supposed to be answering a question. What had it been about? Coffee. That’s right, coffee.

  She’d seen a state-of-the-art coffee machine when she was in the kitchen yesterday, so she jumped at the offer. “An Americano would be great, thanks.”

  “Jenna?” he asked, turning to his brother’s fiancée.

  “I’d love a cappuccino.”

  He nodded and left, and Jenna turned concerned eyes to her. “I was hoping we’d have a moment alone.” Her lilting Scandinavian accent seemed to grow stronger as she lowered her voice. “I wanted to check if you’re all right.”

  Callie frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “It’s just been a bit of a whirlwind. Many people would find it disorienting.”

  The situation wasn’t as disorienting as Adam himself, she wanted to say, but she wasn’t prepared to discuss something she didn’t fully understand herself yet.

  “I’m fine,” she said instead. “I’m staying in a multimillion-dollar beach house and Adam set up an office in a guest room for me. I’m more than fine.”

  Jenna patted Callie’s knee. “I’m glad. But just remember, you married a Hawke, so you’re one of us now.”

  “We’re not—” she began.

  “It doesn’t matter how long this marriage lasts, or that you’re exaggerating your relationship at the moment. You’re part of the family. If you need help from any of us, say the word.”

  Callie’s throat thickened. Never in her wildest dreams would she have expected such a warm welcome to the family, especially from a princess who must have spent her life surrounded by people wanting to be close to her.

  She swallowed to get her voice to work. “Thank you. I appreciate that more than I can say.”

  Adam reappeared carrying two coffee mugs, and Callie took the momentary diversion to compose herself. She found a blueberry muffin, then lifted her clipboard holding all her printed-out notes on the Hawke Brothers’ Trust. She had all the information on her laptop, but found that in meetings, she was able to forge stronger connections with clients if she had pen and paper in hand. It seemed somehow more personal.

  “So I’ve had some ideas about the trust’s PR and I think a couple of them really have legs.” She’d stayed up late getting all her thoughts together so she could make a strong proposal.

  “Excellent,” Adam said. “Before you outline them—Jenna, have you checked the donations for the trust since our story went public?”

  “Actually, I’ve checked often, including just before I left to come here.”

  “Any fallout?” Adam asked, and Callie held her breath. The last thing she wanted was to have this blow up in the charity’s face. Hopefully they’d had an increase.

  “They’ve gone up. In fact, they’ve shot up. Maybe more in the last twenty-four hours than in all the months since we started the trust.”

  “Really?” Adam said, and leaned back in his chair, obviously pleased.

  “I’m so glad,” Callie said. “And relieved.”

  This would be a great lead-in to their new PR strategy. She couldn’t wait to get started, not in the least part because it would give her something to focus on besides her husband sitting across from her.

  Jenna nodded. “I’ve been thinking—I’m sure your ideas are excellent, but perhaps we should be focusing on the wedding? Make it the PR campaign?”

  Callie’s gut clenched tight. It was one thing to do some media interviews to spin a story that protected them from potential damage, but quite another to make it the entire focus. To invite more scrutiny and keep herself in the spotlight. But she’d started this—she’d said yes to Adam’s proposal in Vegas, and it was her job that foisted her back into his world, her colleague that had created the problem and her plan to fix it with this wedding. If they decided this direction was in the best interests of the trust, she’d see it through.

  Her mind rapidly flicked through the pros and cons, and landed on the biggest issue of making the wedding itself the PR campaign.

  “Where do we stand on the ethics of raising money using a fake wedding?”

  “I like that you’re concerned about that,” Jenna said, and then paused, considering. “Any money that’s donated to the trust goes to help homeless children—there’s nothing fake or dishonest about that. It’s transparent and those children are in genuine need. Also, you and Adam are already married, and you really are going to renew your vows, so that’s not a lie, either.”

  Callie leaned back in her seat. They were good points. “But we’re pretending to be in love, so the heart of this campaign wouldn’t be authentic.”

  “It seems to me,” Adam said, “that rather than a lie, it’s more akin to a PR stunt, which happens all the time. Besides, I don’t think we’re the only couple in the media who are together for reasons other than love.”

  “You think the ends justify the means?” Callie asked him. “The benefit to the children?”

  Adam nodded. “If we wanted to use that strategy, then yes.”

  “So,” Jenna said. “What do you say?”

  Callie felt Adam’s gaze on her and lifted her own eyes to meet it. His expression was masked but she knew this wasn’t his preferred direction, despite him weighing in on the ethics of the situation. She raised an eyebrow, asking a silent question, and she watched his chest rise and fall once before he gave her an almost imperceptible nod that sealed their course of action.

  She turned back to Jenna. “It would make sense to build on what’s already working. Keep things moving along.”

  “If you both think that’s the most effective strategy, I’m on board,” Adam said. “Though won’t it be a vow renewal?”

  “Technically,” Callie said. “But in the media we’ll mainly refer to it as a wedding—it’s more romantic.” She flipped to a blank page on her clipboard. “The wedding is the campaign.”

  Jenna smiled. “Sounds fun. What do we do next?”

  She mentally switched gears from a woman sitting in a room with a princess and a virtual stranger who was actually her husband, to a public-relations professional who needed to come up with a strategy.

  She took a sip of her coffee and set the cup back on the side table as she collected her thoughts. “The main thing will be to keep the trust and our wedding firmly tied together in the public’s mind.”

  Adam rested an ankle on his knee. “We’ll mention it in interviews?”

  “At bare minimum,” Callie said, making notes as the ideas came to her. “But we need to plan specific strategies. Maybe we could sell the wedding photos to one publication, with the money going to the trust.”

  Jenna sat up straighter. “We could do a professional shoot before that, too, and sell the photos for the trust.”

  “Like engagement photos,” Callie said, “except we’re already married so we’ll need a different term. Why don’t we call them wedding announcement photos?”

  “I love that,” Jenna said. “If it would help, Bonnie and Meg could be in that shoot.”

  Adam raised an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t feel that was exploiting them?”

  Jenna shook her head. “I’d have to check with Liam, but people try to take their photo all the time as it is. This would be something we chose, and it’s about family and charity. They’re two things that are important in how we’re raising the girls.”

  “If you and Liam are sure,” Callie said, “two baby princesses will certainly increase the money we raise from the photos.”

  Jenna dug into the pastry bag and came out with an éclair as she spoke. “Meg can toddle around, so we could make her a flower girl at the wedding and play that up in these photos.”

  “Great,” Callie said. “Adam, how do you feel abou
t the official wedding announcement photo idea?”

  He rubbed a hand across his jaw, contemplating. “The part of this strategy that I like is that the photographer will work for us, so we’ll control the shoot and choose which photos we pass to the publication. So I’m okay with it.”

  There was something in the way he said the words that made her think he’d been as unhappy with the surprise picture of him kneeling at her skirt as she was. She gave him a small smile to show she understood, and his gaze softened in response. That simple change in the way he looked at her set off a domino effect in her body, starting with a tingling in her toes and ending with heat in her cheeks.

  She turned back to Jenna and refocused on the task at hand. “We’ll implement more strategies to link the trust to the wedding—perhaps make a visit to somewhere the trust assists, with a journalist in tow? But the next thing we should consider is the wedding.”

  “Do you have thoughts on what you want?” Jenna asked.

  Callie nodded. “We have to not think of it in terms of my wedding, or Adam’s wedding. We’ve agreed this is the PR campaign for the trust, so the details have to be ones that suit the charity.”

  Adam frowned. “I don’t follow. How can a wedding suit a charity for homeless children?”

  “Well—” Callie tapped her pen on her notes “—we need to make it stylish, but not over-the-top. If it looks like we’ve spent a ridiculous amount on a lavish wedding that will only imply that we’re out of touch and have too much money. Donations would drop.”

  “Stylish on a budget,” Jenna confirmed. “We can do that.”

  “Also, we make children a visible part of the wedding. Having Meg as a flower girl is a good start, but perhaps the rehearsal dinner could include one hundred children from a charity the trust supports. No photos that night—we don’t want those children to feel exploited or have their identities compromised—we just let the media know that it happened.”

  “So the hundred children have a fairy-tale night,” Adam said, approval warm in his voice, “and we keep the wedding and the trust linked in people’s minds.”

  “Exactly.” Callie smiled and tried to ignore how much his approval affected her.

  “And we have the Bridal Tulip,” Jenna said. “Perhaps sales of the flower in the first week after release—which would be the week of the wedding—could go to the trust.”

  “I love that idea.” Callie made a note. “We could link the advertising to the fact that we’ll be using it at a vow renewal and suggest couples who’ve already married buy a bunch for their spouse to remember their wedding. Adam, is that feasible?”

  Adam shrugged. “Sure. From a business perspective, it would mean increased exposure for the flower, which would help future sales. I’d have no problem with that strategy from a sales or charity angle, even without the wedding.”

  Jenna glanced about the room, and then frowned. “Speaking of flowers, I’ve just noticed something. I’ve only been in this house a couple of times before, but I’ve only realized this time that there are no flowers.”

  “You live at the flower farm,” Adam said pointedly. “Of course your house is full of flowers.”

  Jenna shook her head. “Yes, but I didn’t always live at the farm.” She turned to Callie. “I met Liam when I was Dylan’s housekeeper—I’d run from my family and my homeland when I found out I was pregnant. I would have never forgiven myself for causing a scandal for my family because I was an unwed mother. I wound up working incognito as Dylan’s housekeeper. Dylan lives in a downtown apartment and he has a delivery once a week. When I worked for him, it was the highlight of my week to arrange the fresh flowers.”

  Callie looked around. Now that Jenna mentioned it, it did seem strange that a man who had made his fortune from flowers didn’t have a single one in his house. In fact, besides furniture, the space was practically empty. No personalized...well, anything.

  “It would be a waste since I’m at work all day.” He waved a dismissive hand.

  Intrigued, Callie persisted. “Do you have any on your desk at work?”

  “No.” He shifted in his seat. “But I do look at photos of flowers several times a day.”

  Perhaps Adam Hawke needed to slow down and literally smell the roses. He had this great view from the living room, but had admitted he was rarely here. It seemed most of his life was work. But she didn’t want to push too hard in front of Jenna.

  In front of Jenna? Jenna was his actual family—if anyone was going to press him, she would have more right. Not a virtual stranger who’d been plonked down in the middle of his life.

  Uncomfortable with the stark reminder of reality, she changed the subject. “Okay, is there anything else we need to focus on at this stage?”

  Jenna glanced from Adam’s hands to Callie’s. “Do you have rings?”

  Callie felt her thumb rub over her naked ring finger of its own volition.

  “Not yet,” she said to Jenna. “In fact, Anna asked about them at the photo shoot and I said we were getting new ones for our fresh start, but then the whole thing slipped my mind.”

  “I’ll call a jeweler this morning,” Adam said. “I’ll get them to come to the house with a selection as soon as they can arrange it.”

  Adam had spoken in a pragmatic tone, yet the idea of looking at rings with him sounded just a little bit magical. Ruthlessly, she pushed the thought away. This was not the time for flights of fancy.

  Jenna flicked through her notes and looked up. “What about the bachelor and bachelorette parties?”

  Adam cocked his head. “Is that what we’d call them when we’re already married?”

  Jenna shrugged. “We can call it something else if you prefer. Technically you’re not a bachelor, but it’s like the vow renewal being called a wedding.”

  “You know,” Callie said, “I think it would be simpler for the sake of the campaign to call them bachelor and bachelorette parties, even if it’s not strictly correct. Everyone knows what the term means.”

  “Suits me.” Jenna made a note. “Here’s another thought. Since neither of you need a traditional farewell to your single life, how about we do something different with them?”

  “How different?” Callie asked.

  Jenna smiled. “We could hold them jointly.”

  “A bachelor-bachelorette double bill?” Adam asked, rubbing his jaw. “Sure, why not?”

  Callie’s mind kicked into high gear. “That could work. It would be an integral part of the overall strategy, and we’d invite a journalist along to cover the event.”

  Jenna nodded. “And instead of bachelorette games, we could have some fundraising events during the night.”

  “That’s just the sort of thing that’s non-traditional enough to get some traction in the media. I’ll start getting some ideas together and send them to you.” Callie glanced down and reviewed the notes she’d made. “I think we have enough for now. Adam, if you organize the rings and get things set up for the Bridal Tulip sales to go to the trust in the first week, and, Jenna, if you start setting things up with the charities the trust supports for the children to attend the rehearsal dinner, then I’ll get to work on a plan for the rest.”

  “Done,” Adam said.

  “Will do,” Jenna said. “Faith will be back in town in a couple of days. Shall we schedule another meeting for then? I know she’s keen to do something with the Bridal Tulip on her show, and she’ll love the idea of linking it closely to the children. She’ll want to be part of the planning.”

  “That would be great. How about the same time, same place, in two days’ time?”

  “I’ll bring the pastries.” Jenna packed her things into her handbag and stood. “Now I’ll head home to Bonnie and Meg. As soon as I make it through that throng at your gate.”

  Callie winced. “That’s on
e aspect of your life I don’t envy. They’ll fade away for me, but you’ll always have the paparazzi following you.”

  Jenna shrugged one shoulder. “I’m used to it. I grew up with public scrutiny, so I barely notice anymore.”

  “How do you deal with it?” A princess was probably the perfect person to ask for advice.

  Jenna flashed a resigned smile. “You learn to let go of the worry. The media will always want what they can’t have.”

  Callie thought about that for a moment. “So basically, our strategy is going to give them what they want and it will benefit the trust.”

  “See,” Jenna said, walking to the door. “You’re smart about dealing with them already. Now you forget about them.”

  They said their goodbyes and Jenna went out to her car, leaving Adam and Callie standing in the foyer together.

  “Forget about them,” Adam said wryly.

  Callie turned on her heel to face into the house again. “While we’re here in lockdown, we don’t have to think about them.”

  “True, but we might go stir-crazy.”

  She gave him an assessing look. She hadn’t thought about the impact this was having on him besides the inconvenience of having her move in. But it made sense that a type A personality who was used to overseeing a vast company would find this lockdown rather confining.

  She wanted to offer to help, but didn’t know him well enough to know how.

  “Do you want to watch a movie or something?” she offered.

  His expression gentled. “Thanks for the offer, but no. I have a lot of work to get done today, including a video call in about ten minutes.”

  “Right. Of course,” she said, feeling stupid for making the offer. “I have a lot to do, too. I’d better, uh, go and do it.”

  He reached out and grasped her hand. “I really do appreciate the offer. It was sweet.”

  “Oh, that’s me,” she said on a dry laugh. “Sweet as pie.”