Fantasy for Hire Read online

  His mocking tone chafed her nerves, but she didn’t let it show. “Since you weren’t expecting the project on your desk until Friday, is there some other reason you stopped by?”

  He stared at her for a long moment, obviously not caring for the way she was trying to dismiss him. “According to my secretary, you haven’t RSVP’d for the Christmas party, which is this Saturday. Certainly you weren’t going to miss the biggest bash of the year?”

  She resented the sanctimonious way he chastised her. She hadn’t planned on attending the party, mainly because she didn’t relish the thought of having any outside-of-the-office contact with Louden, but he was making it difficult to refuse.

  “I’ve been so busy, I forgot to respond.” The excuse was handy, and served its purpose. “Consider this my confirmation.”

  “For one or two?”

  Uncomfortable with the direction of their conversation, her mind grappled for another convenient excuse…and came up blank.

  His pale gaze slid pointedly to the ring on her finger. “Two,” she said quickly. “There’ll be two of us attending the Christmas party.”

  Surprise registered in his eyes, and was quickly replaced by skepticism. “Ah, we finally get to meet the elusive boyfriend.”

  What had been an innocent white lie to keep Louden at bay was now becoming a tangled mess. He hadn’t pressed her, accepting the fact that she had a boyfriend in the beginning, but as the months wore on, she suspected he had his doubts. This was the first time he’d made any direct reference to his suspicions.

  “What’s his name?” he asked casually.

  She stared at Louden, her mind freezing. “Uh, excuse me?” The phrase bought her some time, but not much, she knew. She hadn’t thought to create a name for her fictitious boyfriend.

  “Your boyfriend,” he repeated slowly. “He does have a name, doesn’t he?”

  “Well, yes, of course he does.” A name, Teddy. Pick a name! At the moment she couldn’t even think of one of her three older brother’s names!

  “Then what is it?” he persisted. “My secretary needs it for the place settings. We can’t have just anybody finagling their way into the party.”

  Teddy’s chest hurt and her head swam. When she finally realized that she was holding her breath, she let it out in a rush. “Well, maybe I should check with…him. We’d talked about the Christmas party, but quite honestly, he didn’t actually say yes, so we probably should discuss it further.” She offered Louden a placating smile.

  Louden’s eyes narrowed slightly, and a smile curled the corner of his mouth.

  Very casually, he picked up her hand, the one with the diamond and ruby band, and ran his finger over the embedded jewels. She tried not to visibly shudder at his touch.

  “You know, Theodora,” he said, deliberately using her full name as a way of maintaining his superiority. “For a woman who claims she’s committed, you sure do have a hard time remembering the simplest things about your boyfriend. Maybe he’s not as important as you’d like everyone to believe.”

  She yanked her hand from his grasp. “That’s ridiculous.”

  A pale eyebrow lifted, expressing those doubts.

  Desperation coiled within her, and she seized the only name in her mind. “Austin,” she blurted.

  He looked taken aback by her outburst, and somewhat confused. “Pardon?”

  She summoned as much confidence as she could and injected it into her voice. “My boyfriend, his name is Austin.” The threads of her white lie were taking on a decidedly black cast. Hell, since she’d incriminated Austin this much, she decided to go all the way and worry about the consequences later. “Austin McBride.”

  Sliding off the edge of her desk, Louden straightened and glanced down with enough arrogance to make her uneasy. “Well, I suggest you give him a call and find out for certain if he’ll be attending the Christmas party with you. My secretary needs a firm head count by the end of today.”

  Teddy watched Louden leave the office, and knew she’d backed herself into a corner. What she needed was her own personal fantasy man, a fake boyfriend who would establish territorial rights so Louden Avery would back off and see her as a professional, someone well qualified for that promotion. Austin McBride, fantasy for hire, was the man to help her accomplish that goal.

  Drawing a deep breath, and hoping Austin could be persuaded to be her date for an evening, she reached for the phone and dialed the number she’d memorized from his business card. The line connected and rang, then went to voice mail.

  “You’ve reached Fantasy for Hire,” Austin’s voice came over the line, just as deep and rich as she remembered. The sexy, masculine tones spread warmly through her, touching places that had been untouched for too long. “Leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.” A short beep followed.

  “Hi, Austin,” she said, just as Louden walked back into her office, a file folder in his hand. Their gazes met from across the room, the interest in his eyes enough to tell her he’d heard her greeting. She had no choice but to finish her message to Austin.

  She hadn’t counted on having an audience, and had only planned to leave a brief, impersonal message for Austin to return her call. Louden’s unexpected presence changed all that, forcing her to make up a believable monologue as she spoke.

  “It’s, uh, Teddy,” she continued, while her mind latched on to an idea. “I’m calling about the Christmas party this Saturday. Have you decided to go? Since you’re not home, I guess we’ll talk about it tonight. We’re still on for drinks, right? I’ll see you at seven at the Frisco Bay.” She dropped her voice to a husky pitch, lowered her lashes coyly for Louden’s benefit and added, “And later on tonight I’ll wear that adorable Stetson you gave me for my birthday, as long as you promise to wear your chaps.”

  She hoped that last intimate reference would serve a dual purpose—to give Louden the impression that she and Austin were, indeed, intimately involved, and to leave no doubt in Austin’s mind who, exactly, the caller was. Austin didn’t seem the type to forget a woman’s name, but she wasn’t taking any chances. The Stetson would identify her, if her name failed to spark his memory.

  Whether or not he showed up to meet her was a whole other issue.

  Her face burning at her brazenness, she hung up the phone, hoping Louden would mistake the heat scoring her cheeks as a lover’s glow.

  Setting the file in her in-box on the corner of her desk, he stared at her for a long moment, making her uncomfortable. Even after hearing her one-sided conversation, he still didn’t believe her. She could see the doubt in his expression, could detect his skepticism in the set of his rigid posture.

  Wanting to deflect his suspicion, she pasted on a smile. “He wasn’t home, but go ahead and tell Janet to add two more to the guest list.”

  “Are you sure about that?” he asked, too quietly for her peace of mind.

  She suspected his question went much deeper than her certainty about the party. “I’m sure. Go ahead and put Austin’s name down as my date. He’ll be there. I can be very…determined when it comes to something I want.” She shot one of his double-edged comments right back at him.

  “Sometimes, determination isn’t enough,” he retorted meaningfully.

  “He’ll be there.” She wished she felt as confident as she sounded. Truth was, she feared Austin would hear the message on his answering machine and write her off as a nutcase.

  “Very well, then. I look forward to meeting the elusive Austin McBride.”

  She folded her hands on top of her desk and met his gaze levelly. “He’s looking forward to meeting you, too.”

  “Where have you been? You were supposed to be home an hour ago.”

  With a large, flat box tucked under one arm and his other wrapped securely around a green plastic container holding a small, wilting Douglas fir tree, Austin maneuvered his way through the front door of the old Victorian home he and his older brother, Jordan, had inherited when their parents died f
ourteen years ago. For the past eight years he’d occupied the house by himself, ever since Jordan had moved to Los Angeles to pursue his architectural career. Eight years of coming and going as he pleased, without worrying about accounting for his whereabouts.

  Some habits, especially Jordan’s protective instincts toward his little brother, died hard. Jordan had always been the dependable, levelheaded one of them, but then he’d had the responsibility of raising a sixteen-year-old hellion thrust upon him when he, himself, should have been tasting freedom at the tender young age of eighteen. A huge obligation like that tended to make a man out of a child fairly quickly, and Jordan had taken the role of guardianship very seriously. Too seriously, Austin thought, refraining from the urge to remind his brother that he was a big boy and had proven that he could take care of himself.

  Pushing the door closed with his shoulder, Austin shoved the potted fir into his brother’s hands, giving him no choice but to take the plant.

  “Well?” Jordan persisted, following Austin into the adjoining living room where he put the Douglas fir on the corner of the brick hearth. “Where have you been?”

  “You haven’t even been home a week and already you’re starting to sound like a wife, big brother.” Setting the package on the settee that had once belonged to his great-grandmother, Austin cast an amused glance Jordan’s way. “A wife is the last thing I need in my hectic life.”

  Jordan shoved his fingers through his thick, dark brown hair and grimaced. “Sorry,” he said, releasing a deep, frustrated sigh. “It’s been a long, boring day. And you did say you’d be home at four, and it’s after five.”

  Austin’s gaze touched on the fifty-year-old grandfather clock in the corner of the room and noted the time. “Hmm, so it is.”

  Despite his brother’s annoying habit of keeping tabs on him, Austin experienced a bit of sympathy for Jordan. After giving an L.A. architectural firm eight years of loyalty, and being promised a partnership in the firm, he’d been bypassed when they’d promoted a relative instead. Jordan had been used and lied to, and if there was anything he abhorred, it was dishonesty. Two weeks ago he’d quit the firm, packed up his belongings and moved back to San Francisco to reevaluate his life.

  In Austin’s estimation, Jordan had too much idle time on his hands. And until his brother decided which direction he wanted to take with his career, Austin pretty much resigned himself, and his life, to his brother’s scrutiny.

  Jordan was still waiting for an answer. Austin liked making him suffer—goading his brother had always been a favorite pastime, one he’d missed over the past eight years. Shrugging out of his sports jacket, he draped it over the back of the settee. Then he went to work loosening his restricting tie.

  “I’m late because I had an afternoon appointment with a client that ran longer than I’d expected,” he told Jordan as he pulled the tie from around his neck and added it to the jacket. “But I got myself a signed contract for a landscaping project I bid on a few weeks ago for a new restaurant. The job came in at a little less than fifty grand.”

  “That’s great.” Jordan’s hazel eyes brightened with pride and genuine excitement for Austin’s success. “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.” Austin was still feeling the elation of having outbid the other landscaping companies. This one project, coupled with half a dozen other smaller projects he’d been awarded recently, would keep a steady paycheck coming in. “And after that, I picked up the Christmas present I was supposed to get last night.”

  Jordan flicked his finger at the big, fat red bow topping the package wrapped in bright holly paper. “Ah, and who might this be for?”

  Austin watched Jordan pick up the box, and knew from experience what was coming next. “It’s for you, and don’t shake it—”

  The order came too late. For all Jordan’s seriousness, he had an insatiable curiosity, which included trying to guess what his gifts were. The contents of the box rattled as he gave it a brisk jostling, and his eyes lit up like a little kid’s.

  Austin’s stomach pitched as he imagined the delicate, expensive pieces belonging to the specially ordered model of the Bay Bridge breaking into minuscule segments. “Dammit, Jordan,” he growled as he grabbed the box and rescued the collector’s edition from Jordan’s abuse. “I’m serious. It’s very fragile.”

  A grin quirked Jordan’s mouth. “What did you do, get me a set of wineglasses?”

  “Very funny.” Austin put the gift next to the potted fir.

  Jordan came up beside him and cast a hand at the withering tree. “And please don’t tell me you’re going to try and pass this off as a Christmas tree. It’s pathetic, Austin.”

  “That’s why I chose it.” Austin smiled and shrugged. “It needed a home, and we couldn’t celebrate our first Christmas together in years without a tree.”

  “So you picked the scrawniest one you could find?”

  “I didn’t think we’d need anything big and elaborate, considering it’s just the two of us.”

  Jordan shook his head at the sad state of the tree. “I hope it holds up for the next week.”

  “A drink of water, a string of garland, and it’ll be fine.” Austin turned toward Jordan and cuffed him on the shoulder. “And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re home for the holidays.”

  Jordan returned the sentiment with a smile. “Yeah, me, too.”

  “So, any important calls today?” Austin asked as they headed into the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, he snagged a can of root beer for himself and popped the top.

  “That depends on how you define ‘important.’” Jordan’s tone turned rueful. “I overheard a message on your Fantasy for Hire line that was certainly interesting.”

  Austin was used to customers leaving odd messages and requests on that line. When you were in the business of fulfilling fantasies, you got some doozies. Though Jordan was aware of the basic operation of the business, his mind was still boggled by the appeal of Fantasy for Hire, and the outrageous requests he’d been privy to the past week.

  Jordan smirked. “You must have made quite an impression last night at your cowboy gig.”

  The can of soda stopped midway to Austin’s lips, and he lifted an eyebrow at his brother. “What makes you say that?”

  Jordan’s grin broadened. “The very personal message someone left on the Fantasy for Hire line for you.”

  Interest piqued, Austin set his soda on the counter and headed into an adjoining room that had once been a dining room. Now, it was a no-frills, makeshift office for Fantasy for Hire, consisting of an old, scarred mahogany desk and a battered metal file cabinet. The surface of the desk was cluttered with order forms, and a large appointment book opened to the month of December. Judging by all the fantasies filling it, it certainly was the month for giving.

  The phone, with an answering machine and fax attached, sat on one corner of the desk. A digital display indicated he had eight messages waiting for him. He sighed. So much for relaxing after a long day at McBride Landscaping—it looked as if he’d be spending the next hour or so returning calls and scheduling his guys.

  He wondered who’d left the message Jordan seemed so amused with. The only thing he could think of was that the women who’d hired him for Teddy’s cowboy fantasy had been disappointed with his act. According to the description he’d given them when they’d placed the order, they’d been expecting a blond-haired, blue-eyed cowboy. If they’d been dissatisfied with him or his performance, he’d refund their money.

  “Oh, by the way,” Jordan added as he stepped into the office behind Austin. “You’ve got a seven o’clock appointment tonight.”

  Austin jerked his gaze to Jordan, certain his brother was joking. Seeing that he wore his serious, older-brother expression, Austin’s hopes for a peaceful evening dwindled even more. “I told you last night I wouldn’t be performing anymore, not unless I absolutely have to.”

  “You performed last night,” Jordan pointed out.

  “That
was due to circumstances beyond my control. I had no choice.”

  “You don’t have much choice for tonight, either.” Jordan displayed no sympathy for Austin’s plight. “You were specifically requested.”

  Frustration coiled through Austin, and he dragged a hand along his jaw. “I thought you said you didn’t want to have anything to do with the business, including taking calls during the day.”

  “I don’t, and I didn’t.” A humorous sparkle entered Jordan’s eyes as he pushed his hands into the front pockets of his pleated trousers. “I heard the message while the caller was leaving it. Seems that filly you played cowboy for last night took a hankering to you. She requested a repeat performance for tonight.”

  “Teddy?” The name, which had invaded his thoughts all day, slipped from Austin’s lips almost involuntarily.

  “Teddy…” Jordan repeated the word as if testing it, then nodded. “Yeah, I believe that’s what she said her name was.”

  Easing himself into the chair behind the desk, Austin frowned. Despite the chemistry that had charged between them, Teddy didn’t seem the type to brazenly pursue a man, especially when a ring on her finger indicated she was committed to another. Then again, he could have pegged her all wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been led astray.

  Punching the play button on the recorder, he listened to four requests for fantasies before her voice finally drifted out the phone’s speaker.

  “Hi, Austin,” she said, then hesitated a few moments before continuing. “I’m calling about the Christmas party this Saturday. Have you decided to go? Since you’re not home, I guess we’ll talk about it tonight. We’re still on for drinks, right? I’ll see you at seven at the Frisco Bay.”

  Though her voice was strong, he grasped another thinly veiled emotion in her tone. Desperation.

  She continued in a sexy, husky voice, “And later on tonight I’ll wear that adorable Stetson you gave me for my birthday, as long as you promise to wear your chaps.”