Okay…this sounded weird. “What are you talking about, Conor?”
He cocked a beautiful brown eyebrow and glanced to the left of the computer screen to look at her. Maybe he could sense her distress, because he stopped tapping on the keyboard and sighed. “Did you go to your ten-year high school reunion?”
“Why the hell would I go to a high school reunion?” Before he could reply, she said, “They were big enough dickwads the first time around. I’d only go back if my therapist said I needed exposure therapy.”
Conor’s eyes crinkled at the corners but she could tell he had a lot on his mind—as usual. “I’m considering going to my twenty-year.”
“Twenty? Oh, my God. I forgot how ancient you are.”
“I’m not ancient, Morgan. I’m not even forty yet.”
“Well…if you’re pushing forty—which you are—you’d just as well have one foot in your grave.”
Conor’s right eyebrow arched. “Forty’s the new dead?”
Dammit. Conor never failed to make her smile, even when her mood was shit. “Do I wear too much red?”
“Is this a trick question?”
She needed to talk about it, but she couldn’t bear looking her boss in the eye, so she began pacing. “You know T-Rex?”
“The dinosaur? Not personally. I’m not that old.”
Huffing, she looked over at him. “No. Rex. The douchebag I was dating.”
“Now he’s a douchebag?”
Trying to be calm, she answered. “Yeah. He broke up with me because I wear too much red.” Conor burst into laughter. “It’s not funny!”
“It’s not funny that he broke up with you…but it’s hilarious that he gave you a stupid reason like that.”
“It’s not funny.” While she stared Conor down, she felt the corners of her lips twitching while she plopped back in one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Okay…it is funny. But that doesn’t make him any less a shithead.”
“Agreed. So…you wear too much red. Compared to who?”
“Whom. It’s compared to whom.”
Shaking his head and giving his computer screen more attention again, he said, “I’m beginning to understand the troubles in your relationship.”
“Thanks for cheering me up. Now I’ll need a double therapy session. But enough about me. What did you need me for?”
“My question can wait till you’re in a better frame of mind. Are you going to be okay? Do you need to go home early?”
Morgan smiled as she ran her hand over the polished surface of his desk, wiping off a few specks of dust, marveling how sweet Conor could be—when he wanted to be. “I’ll live. Rex was an asshole anyway and, I guess, better to find out now instead of later, right? When I really started to fall for him?”
“That’s a good way of looking at it. Relationships are—”
She interrupted him, quoting him. “—overrated. Yeah, I think I’ve heard that before. You might be happy being loveless for your entire miserable life, married to your business, but the rest of us want to spend our life with someone. Now…I can tell you I want to be with someone smart and funny and nice, not a douchebag like Rex, but I would like to find a good guy.”
“Good luck with that.”
“Maybe I’m just a poor judge of character.”
“Maybe.”
“Or maybe I’m just a magnet for shitty guys.”
“Or maybe,” Conor said, his full lips turned up in a smile, “all the good guys have been taken.”
Morgan frowned. “Thanks, Conor. I always feel better talking to you.” As he started smiling, she flipped him off.
He howled with laughter again. “I don’t want to charge you for this session, so now it’s time for you to listen to my problem.”
“Oh, yeah. Just throw it in my face that you’re actually employing me to work for you. Does this part fall under the other duties as assigned heading in my job description?”
Ignoring her remark, he said, “Here’s the deal.” Conor then stood up and walked across the room to glance out the window of his office over the buildings of the city toward the ocean. Morgan watched him, wondering what he was going to throw at her now—because he always had something brewing in that brilliant brain of his. “I was asking you about your high school reunion, because I’m planning to go to mine.”
“Why?”
“Never mind why. It’s too long a story. But it’s something I need to do. The problem is, if it’s anything like my ten-year, I need to protect myself.”
It was Morgan’s turn to laugh. “Protect yourself? From what?”
“Again, another long story. Maybe I’ll tell you on the flight there.”
“What do you mean?”
He turned around and leaned his butt on the window sill. “I want to make you an offer, but you’d have to come with me.” Morgan had a million questions but realized this wouldn’t be an assignment she’d have to take notes for, so she waited patiently. “I need to appear, uh…unavailable. For multiple reasons. And the easiest way I can think of is to have a friend—an assistant—help me out.”
She was feeling skeptical. “How?”
“Let me just say I’ll make it worth your while, doubling your salary for one weekend.” He smiled and pressed his fingertips together as if coming up with an incredible scheme. “I need you to work on your acting lessons…because, for one weekend only, I’m going to need you to play my wife.”
Chapter Two
THE LOVELY PEAL of Morgan’s laughter filled Conor’s small office. He’d chosen this space several years ago not just for the reasonable rent downtown but also for its ambience. The raw brick on one wall combined with the big windows on the other—not to mention great views of the city from their spot on the sixteenth floor of the building—made for a modern space that felt like a home away from home.
At a time like this, when the woman (the one person he spent more hours with than any other being on the planet) laughed raucously, he appreciated the acoustics in here. The sounds of Morgan’s delight filled the room, reminding him that he didn’t want any other space for his office.
Except for the fact that she seemed to be laughing too much.
As in…she thought it was amusing that he’d even bring up a fake marriage but there was no use talking about it more.
But he had to—because there’d be no selling her on the idea if she shut him down.
“That’s rich, Conor.” Morgan began to sit up, tossing her long dark brown hair behind her shoulders.
“No, I’m serious. Give me a minute to explain.”
The thing Conor had always loved about Morgan was her willingness to do some of the silly tasks he requested, but this one most definitely took the cake. Actually, there was another thing he loved about the girl, and he hoped that was what would allow her to say yes to the strangest proposal he’d ever made to her (and the funniness of the fact that he’d all but literally proposed to her was not lost on him). The willingness to go against the grain was due to Morgan’s unorthodox nature, the part of her that loved to be a rebel, to upset the establishment. All he could hope for would be her inclination to upset the apple cart with him. “Did I ever tell you I was a total nerd in school?”
Morgan rolled her eyes, shifting in her seat. “Only a million times. It’s a boring story.”
“Boring?”
“Yes. Sorry, but I can’t buy you as a bullied underdog, undervalued and unappreciated.”
“And, yet, it’s true.” He saw a glimmer in her eyes as he spoke. What did that mean exactly? He had no time to worry about it, though; instead, he had some convincing to do. “And your disbelief doesn’t change the past. Anyway…at my ten-year reunion, I’d hoped to reconnect with some of my gaming buddies, a lot of guys I hadn’t kept in close touch with over the years. Facebook has never replaced real live human connection. But instead of reconnecting with old buddies, there were girls there ogling me, falling all over me, throwing themselves at me—the same girls
who, ten years earlier, hadn’t given a shit about who I was, what I did, or even what my name was. Now I’ll admit it was a little fun—and funny—at first, but it got old fast. And at the twenty-year reunion, I want to talk to the real people, not the pretty people who want to rewrite history.”
“And how exactly would I fit in…playing your wife?”
“Holy shit, Morgan. You don’t have to say it as if it was the most disgusting thing I’d ever said to you.”
Conor’s insecurities about his looks had disappeared eons ago. For one thing, he realized the reality, which was that, even though he used to wear glasses and talked about so-called nerdy topics, he wasn’t ugly—not by a long shot. And after his first year earning six digits, he invested in Lasik surgery and a personal trainer. Plus, on the advice of said trainer, he’d started wearing his hair in a messy bedhead look.
After his first year grossing over a million dollars, he no longer cared. And, since then, he hadn’t had a hard time picking up a woman. While he knew the Lamborghini had a little to do with it, that wasn’t all of it. He knew it was his confidence that won them over.
Still…until this very moment, he wouldn’t have dreamed a tiny little pinch of insecurity continued to exist deep down. It was probably something he’d never be completely rid of—but he wouldn’t admit that crap out loud and he would keep it buried forever.
Morgan put his mind mostly at ease. “Did I say it like that?”
He shrugged, determined to not make a big deal out of it.
So…his wife. Yes, Morgan could pull it off. She was a few years younger than he, but he knew she could hold her own with the best of them. She had a snarky quality that made her seem like she was wise beyond her years. It was probably his favorite part about her.
Yes, her mouth—and the brain fueling it.
While she turned the idea over in her mind, Conor decided to as well. He wondered how well the two of them would be able to play husband and wife—and he had a niggling doubt that neither of them would be able to pull it off. He suspected the truly hitched folks at his reunion would smell their ruse a mile away.
Oh, and then there was the other problem…what if he really did find someone at the reunion he’d want to spend more time with? Then he’d look like a cheater—and that wouldn’t go over well at all.
“Actually, let’s not do the married couple thing—why don’t you play my fiancée instead?”
“You’re serious about this.”
“Dead serious.”
Morgan’s green eyes flared so much that, had she been the sun, Conor’s nose would have been singed. “You couldn’t pay me enough to participate in something as fucking stupid as that.” And she stormed out of his office.
If nothing else, her reaction made him laugh. “Was it something I said?”
Her last words echoed in his head. You couldn’t pay me enough. Oh, yes, he could. He most certainly could. He just had to figure out her price.
* * *
As she did most mornings, Morgan woke up, turned on the coffee pot, and then grabbed the tiny notebook on which she had her personal daily to do list. Yes, she knew most of what was on it because she’d written it the day before, but she always felt accomplished when she was able to mark things off it. She took a deep breath as she flipped the cover.
Run around the block six times.
Half hour yoga.
Laundry.
Easy enough. Inspired by Conor, she’d been working up to running a mile every morning and six blocks was pretty close. Yesterday, she’d run for five blocks and alternated between walking and jogging for the last two—but today she was going for the whole distance. The yoga could come tonight after work when she usually appreciated it more, and laundry would also wait till then, considering she’d have to go to the basement and pray there was at least one empty machine in the building.
Her running suit was already on, so she grabbed the lanyard with her apartment key hanging beside the door and took the stairs to begin getting her heart rate up before her run. A little over ten minutes later, she was walking back up the stairs, catching her breath, and then walking in her door, enjoying the smell of coffee filling her kitchen. But a quick shower was in order first.
Morgan was congratulating herself on completing the entire mile. Tomorrow, she’d run the whole distance.
Wearing her fluffy pink robe and slippers, a white terrycloth towel wrapped around her head, she padded to the kitchen to reward herself with the first cup of coffee of the morning. It was also time to sit at the computer. Once she’d read the headlines of the day, she allowed herself to surf the internet—never more than half an hour—and she wound up on Facebook. And that reminded her…she still needed to change her status back to single. And it was in so doing that she noticed Rex was already in another relationship.
For reals?
For fucking real???
Morgan could feel her blood boiling, but her curiosity got the best of her. Rex hadn’t unfriended her, so she allowed herself a peek at his profile. The new girlfriend looked a lot like her—long dark hair, thin eyebrows, almond eyes. Morgan felt anger at the other woman for a moment but then realized her ire was directed at the wrong person. That woman—Sandra, according to her profile—likely didn’t know Rex was previously involved just hours earlier. Morgan was upset that she hadn’t thought to check Facebook yesterday—before he’d broken up with her. If she had to guess, he’d changed his status right after lunch yesterday.
What a fucking asshole.
Yeah, she’d never planned on marrying the guy, but he couldn’t wait a few days? God, she didn’t even want to know what the hell he’d been thinking. She wasn’t really that upset over Rex, the person; instead, she was irritated by Rex, the type. He’d been the last in a long string of shitty guys. How the hell did she manage to keep picking losers?
Shutting down her computer, she grabbed another cup of coffee and fumed the entire time she got herself ready for work. By the time she was walking out the door, she couldn’t even remember styling her hair, putting on her makeup, or getting dressed. She looked down to see what clothes she had on: blue button-down shirt, black slacks, low black heels. Good enough.
* * *
Conor was busy writing a report when he heard Morgan unlock the front door of the office before entering. Her heels clicked on the tile floor as he imagined her walking to her desk and putting her things away. Not a minute had passed when she raised her voice to make sure he could hear her. “It doesn’t matter how early I get here; you always beat me.”
A moment later, she appeared in the doorway. “I’m the owner. Don’t you think I should?”
“Yeah, I guess.” She walked across the room and sat. “You know that weird, uh…request you asked me yesterday?”
Resisting the urge to smile, Conor nodded. The curiosity tickled his brain, but he had no intention of asking why she brought it up. “Yep.” He removed his hands from the keyboard, sensing that Morgan wanted to talk now—and he was quite interested in what she had to say.
But he hadn’t expected her response.
“I’ll do it.”
This seemed too good to be true. “Yeah?”
“Yeah—but only on one condition.”
Was he going to regret this? He inhaled before saying, “Name it.”
Her jade eyes lit up, and he couldn’t tell exactly what that meant—but he knew he’d find out soon enough. “We make it convincing—mainly by changing our Facebook statuses to engaged.”
That was an odd request—and it was one that could lead to huge problems. His current friends, for instance, would ask what the hell he’d been doing and why he hadn’t told them before announcing it online—and his parents (well, his mother, anyway) would ask the same question and might take it personally that he hadn’t said anything about having a girlfriend before. “Seems a little sudden, doesn’t it?”
She cocked an eyebrow. “You started it.”
Indeed. The feisty de
vil. While that was something Conor loved about her, it oftentimes worked against him. Still…she was actually considering helping him out, so he needed to see if he could make this work somehow. He squinted his left eye, something he did when he was negotiating. “Why not in a relationship? Or maybe it’s complicated?”
He could tell by the glint in her eyes that she was mulling it over, but based on past behaviors, he expected her to put him through a little back and forth. Instead, she took a deep breath and said, “Fine. Okay. In a relationship it is.”
Conor stuck out his hand and they shook on it. But he needed to know. “Why the change of heart?”
“I’ll tell you after you tell me the perks.”
He couldn’t contain the laughter. “Of being my fiancée or just playing her?” Morgan folded her arms across her chest. “Well, like I said, I’ll pay you overtime the entire time. You’ll also get a free mini-vacation to colorful Colorado, and, uh…” He was going to make this shit up on the fly until he could tell she was completely sold. “Your wardrobe for the weekend. Food and lodging paid for, of course, and—spending money?”
Her lips curled up, but Conor wouldn’t exactly describe it as a smile. “How much?”
“I don’t know. A few hundred?”
“And where exactly are we going?”
“My hometown. Winchester, Colorado.”
“And that’s supposed to be a vacation?” Conor frowned until she grinned. “Should we shake on it again?”
“Have I ever screwed you over?”
“Fair enough.”
“So…the answer.”
“Rex and I just broke up yesterday and the stupid asshole is already in a relationship with another girl—so I need to let him know I can do the same damn thing.”
Oh, poor kid. Conor hadn’t understood yesterday how much the breakup had upset her—but she’d always put on a brave face, so it wasn’t surprising. Suddenly, becoming engaged seemed even more drastic—but understandable. “Then…maybe I can help.”
Shenanigans (Pretense and Promises Book 2) Page 2
