B00Z637D2Y (R) (13 page)

Protectively, she folded her arms over her chest, her mouth drawn in a thin line.

“It’s a new wardrobe for you.”

Wordlessly, she unclipped the leash from Clancy’s collar, looped the leash over the hook inside the kitchen where it belonged—a first for Mia—and disappeared into the bathroom with a discussion-ending click of the lock.

Fuck. What now?

Clancy gave a sympathetic swish of the tail and commiserative whine.

As directed, the shopper had placed the clothes on display with the matching accessories. A cashmere sweater dress and leather boots were laid across the closest chair. High-end jeans, a bright blouse and a supple tan leather jacket and matching ankle boots and handbag were artistically displayed on the sofa. Skirts, shirts, pants, dresses, jackets, and shoes were likewise organized around the apartment. Even the lingerie was laid out artistically on end tables.

What had set her off?

“I fucked up,” he said to the dog. He seemed to be doing that a lot recently. First the Kawashima deal, now this. He had certainly read this wrong. He’d anticipated her behaving like the other women he’d known and that was his big mistake. She was nothing like them. A glance around his place confirmed it. No other woman he knew would even think to bring in fresh flowers or homemade picture frames into his home. Honestly, no woman had ever been given the chance. He’d pushed everyone away.
You’re missing things,
Mia had said, and she was right.

Well, he wasn’t going to miss them anymore. She’d gotten under his skin and made him want more than just that next deal. The least he could do was help her look good in front of her ex and her friends. Then, maybe, she’d stop self-sabotaging. Oh, yeah, that’s what it was. He’d watched her like a hawk over the last weeks, and he knew far more about Hermia Lysander Argaropolis than he could read in a file. Probably more than she knew about herself. When this weekend was over, she’d be leaving him with lot more than a new wardrobe. She’d be leaving him with a new sense of self. Whether she knew it or not, she’d been missing things, too.

With a deep breath, he gently rapped on the bathroom door.

“Not a good time, Michael.”

It would never be a good time if he didn’t know what had set her off. “I’m kind of clueless out here.”

“Tell me about it.”

Holy shit.
For the first time in his life, he didn’t have the upper hand. In fact, he didn’t have any hand. He had nothing whatsoever. “Would you like a drink?”

“No.”

Well, he would. After pouring a scotch, he settled on the end of the bed to hold vigil over the bathroom door for when she decided to come out and clear this up.

Clancy curled up next to him, and he absently sifted his fingers through the dog’s hair while sipping his drink and puzzling over what had upset Mia so much. He assumed with her spontaneous nature, she’d love a surprise like this.

Maybe she thought the clothes belonged to someone else. Hell, who knew what she thought. At this point, though, he figured the best tactic was to wait it out and let her come around in her own time. She was unusual, and honestly, the stakes were very high. Too high. What started out as an uncomplicated business arrangement, which he’d hoped would morph into some great sex, had turned into something unexpectedly complex.

Never before had he cared about impressing a woman past the level of convenience and self-serving gratification. And that had always worked for him because the women he had dated wanted no more than that from him. Very clear A, B, and C categories.

Mia was different. A whole new category: those who just wanted him as a friend. A business-only friend. He finished his scotch in a gulp and set the glass on the floor at his feet. He gave a half-laugh. Before he met Mia, he’d have never put an empty glass anywhere but the sink or the dishwasher. Something about it was liberating.

Waiting was not.

…

“Calm down,” Mia scolded herself in the bathroom mirror. “Maybe he just can’t see what a dick move this was.” Of course he couldn’t. To him, it was probably generous, and how he’d operated in the past. She’d always had a gift for putting herself in other people’s shoes, but his shoes were way too big to wrap her head around. She couldn’t even imagine what it was like to be him.

In his warped sense of what was appropriate between people, paying someone was probably his answer to most things. Goodness knew it was the easiest answer for someone like him. He most likely knew she wouldn’t take money, so he bought her stuff instead—beautiful stuff, of course; he
was
Michael Anderson after all.

Ordinarily, she would have just chewed him out on the spot, but after spending time with him, she’d learned that curbing her impulsive side had benefits—not that it wasn’t still there, lurking under the surface like a powder keg, waiting for her to light the fuse. But, he responded much better to more controlled responses. He liked order, not only in his physical life, but in his emotional world as well. And it was worth putting things away where they belonged and waiting to react because of the ease it brought to their friendship.

Friendship.

She shook her head at her reflection.
Nope. Not friendship. Business relationship
. He’d just proved it by paying her. He saw her as an employee, not an equal.

Well, she couldn’t stay in there all night. They were leaving for the wedding in the morning, and they needed to clear this up before then. Ripping the Band-Aid off all at once was the best tactic.

After a deep, fortifying breath, she opened the bathroom door. Michael shot to his feet from the corner of the bed, kicking over an empty highball glass. The glass rolled across the floor and came to rest right in front of her. Ordinarily, she’d have just left it there, but she knew that things on the floor bothered him, so she picked it up. Turning it in her hands, she watched the light play off the cut glass. “I don’t want to be paid, Michael. You’ve made me uncomfortable.”

“It wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable. Quite the opposite.”

“I didn’t come to the office with you because I expected compensation. I didn’t expect anything. I didn’t come with you tonight as an employee; I came as a friend.”

“This isn’t about tonight.”

She placed the glass on the counter just inside the bathroom. “I heard you on the phone in your office.” After shrugging out of her coat, she folded it over her arm. “You did this because Kawashima signed the deal with you. It’s why you kissed me, too. It’s all about the deal. You’re trying to pay me and I feel uncomfortable.”

A puzzled look crossed his face. “The only call I made was to Jacob to let him know we were ready for pick up.”

“And the clothing store in the living room just magically appeared on its own?”

“No. I arranged for it last week.”

“Last week.” Well, that put a new spin on things. She thought he’d ordered the zillion dollars worth of designer clothes after Kawashima signed the deal.

“The items in the living room are costumes and props for the fake fiancée routine we’re going to pull off this weekend.”

“I don’t need costumes.”

“Of course you do. You said yourself that we’re an unlikely couple. Well, I’m going to make every effort to appear to be someone who would appeal to you, and you need to do the same. Your one little black dress, several T-shirts, a pair of blue jeans, and paint-splattered warm-ups wouldn’t cut it at a wedding in the Hamptons. And they wouldn’t be sufficient to go the places we would go were we truly engaged. Your parents are actors. Pretend you’re one as well, and consider this your costume wardrobe for an elaborate play.”

It seemed overkill. It was going to be an intimate, outdoor wedding with only her and Jason standing in. Sue had planned the thing over a year ago when the four of them, Mark, Sue, Jason, and Mia were inseparable. After the nasty breakup, Mia had thought—no hoped—Sue would sub her out for someone else, but out of duty or friendship…or something, she remained in the wedding party. “It’s a small wedding. I’m just the maid of honor.”

“All the more reason you should look the part.”

He had a point, and heaven knew she couldn’t afford to go out and buy a suitable wardrobe—well, not until after she sold the series of paintings. Her friends all knew she was a casual kind of person and accepted the way she dressed. But, as he pointed out, there was no way in hell she could run in Michael Anderson’s circles wearing a Mighty Mouse T-shirt and paint-splattered warm ups. She lowered herself on the opposite corner of the bed from him and patted the space next to her, encouraging Clancy to abandon him. To her surprise, the dog stayed where he was, chin on Michael’s thigh.

“I don’t do things half way, Mia. I agreed to do this, and I intend to do it well—perfectly, in fact. Our image as an engaged couple living together will be strengthened by your new clothes. It’s all about perception.”

“Well, my perception is that it was presumptuous and pushy to dress me without my input.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I was trying to surprise you.”

That caught her attention. She snapped her gaze to his face, but there was nothing in his expression that indicated he was kidding. “You’re not the surprise type.”

“There’s that wide brush you paint me with again. I’m trying.” He gestured to Clancy, peacefully asleep. “Even the dog knows I’m trying.” A tiny smile pulled at the edges of his lips and she relaxed a little.

It wouldn’t hurt to accept the clothes, and he hadn’t done it as payment for anything. She could justify it by saying he did it to make his job easier that weekend, and she was pleased he had thought to surprise her. That was a huge step for a guy like him. “Okay. I’m sorry I overreacted. I’m a little on edge. I kind of thought I had this…” She gestured to him. “…
you
figured out. Clearly, I don’t.” She reached over and patted Clancy. “He seems to think you’re okay, though. Dogs know stuff.”

She stood and paused at the door. “Tomorrow’s a big day. I’m going to turn in. Thanks for the clothes. And congrats on the Kawashima deal. I know it was really important to you.”

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but didn’t. She hovered in his doorway for a moment in case he decided to respond. He watched her intently, as if he were waiting for something. It made her uneasy and thrilled at the same time. “Goodnight, Michael.”

“Goodnight.” His voice was laced with a husky undertone. Mia’s entire body recognized it. “Sweet dreams, Mia mine.”

There’d be dreams, all right, but if they were anything like the ones she’d been having nightly, there’d be nothing sweet about them.

Chapter Eleven

Through the limo window, Mia silently watched the world whiz by as they sped toward the Hamptons and what could be the biggest fiasco of her life…which was saying something.

The morning had been a mess with her losing track of her phone—twice—and then forgetting her charger and having to go back up to get it after the car had been packed. None of it had seemed to bother Michael though, who waited patiently throughout, which struck her as odd. Her flakiness had bothered the hell out of Jason. She’d expected it would drive a control freak like Michael nuts.

“The dress looks amazing on you. Do you like it?”

She drew her attention away from the window and settled it on Michael, who sat in a facing seat with Clancy on his lap across a small table from her, dressed like a men’s fashion model. With most anyone else, the limo, expensive watch, custom shoes, and other trappings of wealth would have been off-putting to her, but on him, they were natural. He’d earned this lifestyle himself, and he wore it well. On her, though, the expensive clothes felt foreign.

She looked down at the sweater dress that hugged her curves like it was custom made for her body. She wasn’t used to wearing tight clothes outside of her workout gear, and she was hyperaware of Michael’s frequent head to toe scans of her. After a hot night of crazy dreams, she vowed to keep all conversation light and businesslike. “Yes. I like all of the clothes. Did you pick them out yourself?” she asked, running her hands over her cashmere-clad thighs. Michael’s gaze followed the movement and she immediately froze.
Business only
, she chanted in her head.

“No. I made note of your sizes based on your existing clothes and shoes and then gave that information, along with a photo of you, to a professional shopper last week.”

“Oh…” That made sense. And she again felt remorse for being so upset last night. He’d obviously been planning ahead, which was his style. She should have known.

“Except the lingerie.” He stroked Clancy’s back. “I selected that myself.”

So much for businesslike conversation. The underwear was gorgeous and super sexy. The thought of him picking it out made her lower body tighten. “New underwear wasn’t necessary. Nobody will see it.”

He shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong. At this level, you need to do better than look the part; you need to believe it yourself. You and I will know you’re wearing beautiful lingerie, and it will be apparent in our behavior. You will believe it. Consequently, those around you will, too.”

“Like your super successful businessman playboy role.”

“I
am
a successful businessman, Mia. It’s not a role I play.”

“And the playboy part?” The second she said it, she regretted it. The question was far from businesslike.

It was his turn to look out the window. “Nothing but inference on the part of the media.”

She arched a brow. “And inference on the part of a neighbor who has heard you in action through the wall.”

They stared at one another for an uncomfortably long time. Why couldn’t she have just let it go?

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“That the weather is lovely,” she lied.

He leaned a bit closer over the table between them. “That’s not what I’m thinking.”

Oh, shit.
She could tell from the look on his face she was in trouble. It was the same odd, unreadable poker face look he had in the office before he kissed her.