Husband For Hire

by Caitlin Daire

  I knew the truth, and I knew a fake marriage would never lead to a real one.

  ….right?

  Chapter One

  Olivia

  Five weeks ago

  “You know, the only truly tried-and-tested method to coping with shit in life is getting blind drunk.”

  My friend and roommate Audrey had a glass of sparkling water in one hand as she relayed this apparently-scientific fact, and I wrinkled my nose as I looked up at her. “What are you talking about?” I asked. “And if alcohol is so great, why are you standing there with water?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m talking about you moping around the apartment for the last few days. And I don’t need to drink right now, because I’m not the one moping.” Her face softened, and she slid onto my bed before scooting over to where I was perched with a book. “I know what day it is today, Livvy. It’s the anniversary, right?”

  I sighed. “Two year anniversary, to be exact.”

  “I know nothing’s gonna bring Callum back. But let’s at least do something to make you feel good tonight.”

  “Nothing will make me feel good on a day like this, believe me,” I said, closing my book and looking her right in the eye.

  “I disagree. A few drinks, some dancing. Honor his life. It’s what he’d want. He wouldn’t want you to be spending every anniversary of his death being upset and curled in the fetal position, would he?”

  I looked over her shoulder at the picture frame hung on my wall. In it was a photo of me and my adorably-freckled younger brother Callum, arms around each other. Mom and Dad flanked us, smiling, and I felt a twinge in my stomach at the happy memory of our zoo trip on the day that picture was taken. Back when our parents were happy. Back when Callum and Dad were still alive.

  Dad’s death….well, we’d all been expecting that. He’d always smoked a lot, and when he was diagnosed with lung cancer four years ago and only given a year to live, we’d been devastated. But not surprised. As for Callum, his death two years ago—only a year and a half after Dad passed—had been a true shock. As if an icy-cold wind had suddenly swept through our lives, right into our cores, and never left.

  I sat up, straightening my spine. “You’re right,” I said. “I need to go out.”

  Of course I didn’t want to be out at some dingy bar or smelly club tonight, but I couldn’t sit around and let these thoughts creep in. I didn’t want to spend the whole night crying, just like I did for three months straight after they told me Callum was gone. I wanted to blur my mind, try to forget. Just for a few minutes.

  Audrey grinned. “That’s my girl. Get dressed.” She sprang up from the bed and pulled her grey chunky knit cardigan off to reveal the rose gold and pink necklace dangled over her cleavage. “I’m even wearing one of your designs.”

  Despite my somber mood, I couldn’t help but smile. Audrey was my best friend in NYC and my most ardent supporter. She loved the fact that I was trying to strike out on my own and start my own jewelry design business without the help of my mother, who controlled my substantial inheritance until I turned twenty-one, and she always wore my designs and told everyone she knew about them. She was my biggest fan and my biggest promo-helper; all that love and support packed into one tiny five-foot frame.

  My mom would’ve had no problem forking out the necessary cash for me to get my business off the ground until my twenty-first birthday in eighteen months, but I refused to take any and insisted on working for my own money. In fact, since Callum passed away, I’d barely even spoken to Mom. It wasn’t that I didn’t love her (even though she’d always been a bit of a stone cold hard-ass), it was because she looked so much like him. I’d inherited Dad’s darker complexion, hazel eyes and thick wavy black hair, whereas Callum and Mom shared a paler freckled complexion, green eyes and pin-straight brown hair.

  It was too difficult to wake up every day to see Mom’s near-identical features at the breakfast table, reminding me of my brother with every detail, and so as soon as school was done, I cashed out the generous little nest egg my paternal grandparents gave me years ago and took off across the country to NYC to strike out alone. I was only seventeen at the time (I graduated six months early due to an accelerated learning program at my school) and naïve to the world, but I managed somehow. Two years had passed since then, and I was still a little naïve, but I was learning more and more every day. I worked hard at my librarian’s assistant job during the day, and I worked even harder at night, building my brand and creating unique jewelry pieces.

  “I’ll get the matching earrings for you,” I said, padding over to my tiny wardrobe, where my designs were kept safely at the bottom.

  Half an hour later, we were both dressed and ready for a night out, although we weren’t exactly ready for the weather.

  “I thought it wasn’t meant to start raining till tomorrow!” Audrey gingerly wiped her face so as to not smear her carefully-applied makeup, and I blew out a misty breath, shielding my face from the drizzling rain.

  “It wasn’t. But you know what the weather predictions are like. Hardly ever right,” I replied. Cold water from the sidewalk splashed into my pumps and squelched between my toes, and I groaned. “Where’s the place you’re taking me to? I hope they have a decent bathroom where we can dry off.”

  “Don’t worry, it’s just around the corner, and the bathroom is great.”

  Audrey linked arms with me and pulled me around a corner, and a flashing neon sign alerted us to the fact that we’d arrived at our destination moments later. “Welcome to The Library,” she said, waving her hands at the long, snaking line outside the club entrance. “I thought you’d like it, seeing as you work at an actual library. Also, they don’t card.”

  I smiled. “Looks cool.”

  Truthfully, I felt a little inadequate compared to the other people in line ahead of us. They were all dressed to impress, baring lots of skin and flashing bright white smiles around, and while I had heels and a nice dress on, I didn’t exactly have much on display, given how much the dress covered. Then again, I was here to dance and try to have fun, not to hook up. I’d given up on finding a guy long ago. Even though I was only nineteen, I wanted to be serious and start my life career-wise before wasting my time on men. Besides, guys my own age didn’t want to settle down, and most of them were assholes anyway. I couldn’t even count the number of stories I’d heard from friends who got screwed over by boyfriends and friends-with-benefits.

  No thanks.

  I could faintly hear the thumping bass from inside the club as we waited to get in, and I squinted and peered over the shoulder of the guy standing in front of me, trying to figure out exactly how many people were ahead of us. My breath stopped in my lungs and my heart skipped a beat as I caught the eye of a man standing next to the nightclub bouncer behind the rope.

  Every edge and angle of his handsome features was highlighted by the bright light of the club sign which was shining directly on him. His hair was short and chestnut brown, accented by flashing blue eyes which gleamed with sensuality and a hint of danger that sent electrified thrills though me. He was wearing a grey T-shirt with bulging muscles straining against the fabric. The light color perfectly complemented his tanned skin. My mouth dried up as I took him in, and I kept staring like an idiot, seemingly in a trance.

  The guy quirked an eyebrow and said something to the bouncer. Then he slowly stepped toward us, keeping his gaze on me the entire time. I noted the sheer confidence in his eyes, the amused smirk on his rugged face, and I gulped as he reached the rope boundary directly to my right. Up close, I could tell he was quite a bit older than me. I’d never been great at judging ages, but I’d say he was somewhere between his mid-to-late thirties. If he was in fact late thirties, then that would make him nearly twice my age, but I didn’t care. He was hot as hell.

  “You two—you can skip the line,” he said, gesturing at Audrey and me.

  I knew I should speak, but my tongue seemed to be frozen. Luckily, Audrey wasn’t so
tongue-tied, and she squealed and dragged me out of line. “Thank you!” she said.

  As she pulled me forward, I turned my head over my shoulder, unable to tear my gaze away from the hot man. I just wanted to look at him for a few more seconds before Audrey pulled me into the club. He curled his lips into a cocky smile and held up a hand in a lazy wave. “See you in there,” he called out, eyes following me.

  My skin prickled, and heat bloomed between my legs. My earlier coldness was entirely forgotten, and I barely even noticed the water still squelching in my pumps as I ducked into the club foyer.

  “I think you have a fan,” Audrey said with a giggle.

  “Who?” I asked, feigning ignorance.

  She gently elbowed me. “You know who. That guy was hot.”

  “Who was he?” I asked. “He just let us in like that…he must know the club owner or something, right?”

  She shrugged. “I guess. I dunno, though. I’ve only been here once, and I didn’t see him then.”

  She led us on a winding path through a packed dancefloor, toward a dimly-lit bar where two bartenders were quickly and expertly serving up drinks to patrons who practically had to scream their orders to be heard over the thumping music. Behind the bar was a shelf, lined with old-fashioned books and liquor bottles. I guess that’s why they called it The Library, though it was a bit of a stretch. Truth be told, it was pretty much the same as any other club. Loud, smelly, and sweaty. But at least it was out of the cold rain.

  Audrey ordered us some chartreuse shots, and after we’d knocked back a few, we headed onto the dancefloor. Club-goers were squashed together like sardines in a can as they pulsed to the rhythm of the music, but no one seemed to care about the tight fit. Especially Audrey, who quickly caught the attention of a cute guy with her moves. I winked at her and mouthed that I was going to take a break, motioning across the floor to an empty table I’d just spotted, and she grinned and mouthed ‘thank you’ back to me. She was a bit boy-crazy, and I knew there was no stopping her, so there was no point getting in the way once she’d spotted her target for the night.

  From my table, which was on an elevated platform, I had a perfect view of the dancefloor and the bar across the room. I squinted through the flashing strobe lights as a familiar face and body came into view. It was the hot guy from earlier, standing by the bar with a scantily-clad girl whose outfit was somewhere between Burning Man and ‘it burns when I pee’. She was grinding on him, thrusting her hips close to his in very suggestive movements.

  I sighed and turned my attention away. Obviously the guy could get anyone he wanted, and apparently what he wanted was a girl in barely-there clothes who put out easily. No judgment; it just wasn’t my thing. I was willing to do other sexual things—I wasn’t a complete prude—just not full sex on the same night I met someone for the first time. I was saving that for something special. Someone special.

  “Hey, there. Mind if I sit?”

  A deep, rich voice broke me out of my reverie three minutes later. My head jerked up, and to my surprise, it was Hot Guy himself standing at my table, asking to sit.

  “Sorry…what?” I asked shakily, certain I misheard him. He was probably just asking me to give up the table for him and his little girlfriend.

  “I want to sit with you,” he said, waving to the chair across from me. His voice was so deep, so commanding. I couldn’t say no even if I wanted to.

  My face flushed hot. “Oh. Sure.”

  He said something else which I didn’t catch as the bass dropped.

  “Sorry, what?”

  “My name is Mac,” he repeated, holding out a hand. At least that’s what I thought he said; it was hard to tell over the loud music.

  “Liv.” I reached for his hand to shake it, squirming on my seat as his rough grip took hold of me. “Thanks for letting me and my friend in earlier.”

  “You looked cold standing there,” he said with a grin, scooting his chair closer so that we could hear each other better. Then he winked. “But you also looked damn hot.”

  My face was on fire now. “Thank you,” I said, looking down at my lap.

  He put two fingers under my chin and tilted my head back up. “So shy. That’s a pretty rare quality these days. Especially in this whole scene.”

  “Sorry.” I mumbled and tried to look back down, but he wouldn’t let me.

  “Don’t apologize. It’s cute.”

  “Don’t you have a girlfriend?” I asked, glancing back toward the bar. The barely-dressed girl who’d been grinding on him earlier was nowhere to be seen.

  He arched an eyebrow. “Girlfriend? No. No girlfriend at all.”

  Something about his tone told me there was something behind those words, but I didn’t press him. It was none of my business, really. I didn’t know this guy or anything about him, other than his first name.

  He scratched his chin and went on before I could say anything else. “Oh, you must’ve seen me with that girl at the bar, huh?”

  My skin tingled at his cocky grin, and I nodded. He leaned forward. “She was just some girl who wanted free drinks and thought that was the way to get some. Lot of ‘em around here.”

  “Oh. I guess they know you’re friends with the bouncer?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah. We’re friends,” he replied. He didn’t elaborate further, so I still wasn’t sure exactly what his connection to the club was, and he also didn’t explain why he found my words so amusing. I suppose it didn’t matter. The man was sex on a stick, hotter than any other guy I’d seen in years, and he was easily making me reconsider all my earlier thoughts of not wanting to hook up with anyone tonight. Audrey had found a guy, so why shouldn’t I have some fun too? It would be a good distraction from any thoughts of today’s date, and I didn’t need to take it too far. Some kissing, some touching…that could be just what I needed.

  “Do you want to be friends with me?” I asked shyly, gazing up at Mac through my eyelashes.

  He shook his head and laughed, a deep, rich and throaty chuckle. “Oh, no. We’re not going to be friends, princess…”

  Chapter Two

  Olivia

  “We’re going to get out of here and go to my hotel room. That’s what we’re going to do,” Mac said, leaning forward.

  I couldn’t believe what he was saying. He was so damn forward. Our gazes connected again, and I felt something so powerful pass between us that I almost fell off my chair. His eyes were pure sin. Just what I needed tonight.

  Leaving with a stranger could be dangerous. It could also give me exactly what I needed. I didn’t need much time to think about my reply.

  “Let me just text the address to my friend,” I said.

  Mac smiled; an easy grin which made me sure I could trust him. “Sure. Can’t be too careful. Penthouse Suite, Hotel Avalon.”

  I gulped as I texted Audrey to tell her where I was heading. Hotel Avalon was a five-star place on Fifth, and Mac had the penthouse. He obviously wasn’t just some random guy who happened to know a few club workers. He was someone. I wasn’t going to ask too many questions, though. That would be tacky and desperate.

  We stepped out a back entrance and caught a cab to Fifth. I didn’t dare say a word the whole ride; I was too nervous and lost deep in thought. This wasn’t like me at all. I’d never gone home with a complete stranger, and the more I thought about it, the more I knew Mac would expect nothing short of sex, sex and more sex. A little kissing and fondling wasn’t going to cut it with an older guy like him, and I was leading him on by even agreeing to go to the hotel when I knew I wasn’t going to sleep with him.

  Then again, I didn’t exactly agree, per se—he demanded I go with him. Or told me to, more precisely. I didn’t usually like to be told what to do, but coming from him, it was impossible to resist. I liked it when a man like him told me what to do. I liked feeling small, vulnerable and out of control, and I liked the idea of letting a strong man take control instead.

  I stared out the window, and I jumped as I
felt Mac’s rough hand sliding onto my left thigh. My skin tingled with anticipation. Maybe I’d been approaching it all wrong these last couple of years, holding onto my virginity and never going past third base. Guys my own age sucked, sure, but an older experienced guy like Mac? That could be wonderful. That could be the exact experience I needed for my first time. He would know just what to do, exactly where to touch me. There wouldn’t be any awkward fumbling and jack-hammer thrusting like my friends had described.

  By the time our cab arrived at the hotel, I’d made my decision. Tonight, I was going to have some fun. Tonight, I was finally going to have sex like everyone else, and I wasn’t going to regret it.

  Mac led me to the elevator, and before we got in, he turned to me, a hard look in his eyes. “How old are you, Liv?”

  “Nineteen,” I said.

  He quirked a brow. “What year were you born?”

  “1998.”

  He nodded, seemingly believing me. I guess if I took too long to reply, he would’ve assumed I was lying.

  “Why do you ask?” I said as the elevator pinged and the doors opened.

  “I just don’t want any trouble. Girls these days…you can’t tell if they’re thirteen or thirty.”

  “I won’t cause any trouble.”

  He smiled down at me, one thick arm circling my waist as the elevator hummed upwards. “I know you won’t, princess.”

  I thought he was about to kiss me, and I desperately wanted him to, but then the elevator pinged again to alert us of our arrival on the top floor. The doors opened right into the suite, and my eyes widened as I took it all in. Growing up with wealthy parents back in California, I’d seen my fair share of opulence, but this room was beyond all that. An entire wall on one side was actually a huge window, overlooking Central Park along with the city and all its twinkling lights. The streets below were still crammed with traffic, as they tended to be at all hours, but I couldn’t hear a sound. All that outside noise was worlds away up here, even though I felt like I could practically reach down and touch it at the same time.