The Sweetheart Hoax
Read The Sweetheart Hoax Online
Authors: Christy Hayes
By Christy Hayes
Amazon Edition
Text Copyright © Christy Hayes
All Rights Reserved
The characters portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Nor part of this book may be reproduced by any means without prior written consent of the author.
Amazon Edition, License Notes
Table of Contents
Margot Manning had to quit the job she loved in order to achieve the career she wanted. As she settled into her chair at the reception desk at Flannery & Williams, she wondered what could have made the last few years worse. She could have been waiting tables at a diner as her mother had done before her heart made such physical work too taxing. She could have hawked gifts at one of the coastal area’s gift stores, unable to study without her bosses or customers taking note. She could have accepted one of the
nannying
positions she’d interviewed for before realizing she’d never be able to read and memorize chapters of organic chemistry with toddlers underfoot all day. As she neared the end of her part-time nursing program, she knew she’d made the right choice for her day job. If only she hadn’t fallen stupidly, ignorantly in love with her boss…well, one of them.
Phil Williams was cocky, handsome, and obscenely talented. Flannery & Williams was the hottest environmental architectural and building firm in the
Lowcountry
, and Phil and his insatiable drive to succeed had put them on the map. She didn’t need a distraction like him in her life; she sure as hell wasn’t looking for one when she’d accepted the job three years ago. The receptionist’s position had been the perfect chance for her to work in a job that required minimum skill and left plenty of time for her to study. The fact that her two bosses were the best looking men in South Carolina was just a perk.
A perk that quickly turned into a liability when awe and infatuation morphed slowly, achingly, into unrequited love.
“Morning, Margot,” Phil said as he breezed past her on the way to his office. He plopped a bag on her desk from his favorite bakery. His thick, dark hair and caramel colored eyes perfectly complemented the beige suite and blue shirt he’d chosen that morning. As usual, he hadn’t even made eye contact.
Margot jumped up from her chair. “Phil, I need to speak with you for a minute.”
“Can’t,” he said without a backwards glance. “I’ve got an appointment in thirty minutes.”
Margot moved the bag and cleared away her National Council Licensure Examination study guide in order to skim the calendar. She trailed behind him and stopped at the threshold of his door. “I didn’t know you had an appointment.”
He slid out of his suit coat and draped it over the wooden hanger in the corner. “Made it last night at the driving range. I’ll need a promotional package and complete set up in the conference room.”
Margot blew one of her flyaway curls out of her eyes. Unfortunately, it sounded like a sigh.
“Too tall an order?” he asked with a sideways grin, looking at her for the first time as he sat in his chair.
Everything about Phil Williams was a very tall order. At six-foot-four, he stood exactly a foot higher than Margot. “No, of course not.”
“Good.”
When she didn’t leave or even stand up straight where she’d slumped against the door, he spared her another glance.
“I do need to talk to you,” she said as he raised his brows. “Later.”
“Fine, but I’ve got a lunch date, so it’ll have to be this afternoon.”
“That’s…” typical, she wanted to say, “perfect.” She stood up straight. “Thanks for breakfast.”
She skulked down the hallway toward the conference room, grabbed the pitcher from the cabinet, and retrieved a lemon from the small refrigerator under the sink. She sliced the lemon and muttered all the reasons she shouldn’t care that he had another lunch date. Of course he had a lunch date. God knew he wouldn’t have had that charming glow in his eye just for the anticipation of seeing her first thing in the morning. She added ice and water from the tap, set out the nice glasses on the bamboo tray, and went back to the wet bar for the bowl of chocolate candies.
At least when she quit, she wouldn’t have to know the details of his love life. She wouldn’t have to go home at night picturing him dining with unworthy women at Andover’s best restaurants under reservations she’d made. Soon, she told herself, very soon, she wouldn’t care
who
Phil Williams bought breakfast for or what he did for lunch or dinner and with whom. She’d be too busy to care and way too happy. Nursing was all she’d ever wanted to do, and through sheer determination and hard work, her goal was finally within sight.
Now all she had to do was quit her job.
***
When the phone rang for the third time and Phil heard Margot puttering around the conference room, he answered it himself, a little distracted by his upcoming meeting and the fact that he’d seen his lunch date’s picture on a billboard on his ride into the office that morning.
“Flannery & Williams. Phil speaking.”
The sound of his mother’s voice on the other end did little to settle his mood. “You’re answering your own phone? I thought you had a secretary for that.”
“Mom. How nice to hear from you.” He glanced at his watch. He didn’t have time to play twenty questions with an important meeting in fifteen minutes.
“If that were true, you’d call me more often. Since you don’t, I’m forced to bother you at work.” He heard the telltale sign she had breakfast on the stove as the sound of bacon popping filled his ear. “So how are you?”
“Busy,” he said. “I’ve got a meeting in a few minutes I need to prepare for.”
“Busy, busy,
busy
. I never heard back from you about your daddy’s retirement party. We’re three weeks out, so I’m calling to remind you to book a flight before the prices go sky high. Delta’s running a special out of Charleston.”
Damn. He hadn’t forgotten about the party. Not really. He just didn’t want to go. “I’ve got it on my calendar to book this week.”
“Good,” she said. “Will anyone be joining you for the party?”
“Anyone like whom? You mean a date?”
“Phillip, you’re thirty-one years old, not married, and not in a relationship. I should have grandchildren by now.”
“You have grandchildren. I’m sure Devon would be thrilled to hear you’ve forgotten his kids.”
“I mean grandchildren from you. Aren’t you the least bit embarrassed that your younger brother is married with two kids? People are starting to talk.”
“Talk about what? People in Cash are always talking.”
“I didn’t want to tell you this over the phone, but your brother said there are rumors you might be gay.”
“What?” Phil sputtered and ran his hand through his hair, and then mentally cursed when he realized he’d mussed it up. “Are you serious?”
“You ran off to a resort island, you never come home, and whenever you do, you’re alone.” He heard the sound of her spatula against cast iron. “It didn’t help when you wore a purple shirt last Thanksgiving.”
“It was plum! And everyone was wearing purple last season.”
“I rest my case,” she mumbled under her breath. “Honey, I think I’d know if you were that way, but you can’t blame people for wondering.”
He shouldn’t care what people in Cash, Illinois thought of him. He certainly hadn’t given anyone from his hometown a second thought in years.
But gay?
The thought made him shudder. “I’m not gay, Mom. For God’s sake, ask Julianne how gay I am.”
“Phillip Williams, I most certainly will not ask Julianne Waterston anything of the sort.”
“She wasn’t Julianne Waterston when she let me—” Good Lord, was he seriously about to tell his mother he’d had sex with the preacher’s daughter in high school? “It doesn’t matter because I won’t be alone on this trip.”
“Really?” she all but purred. “Is it serious?”
Seriously stupid, yes.
Who the hell could he bring home to get his mother and all the wagging tongues in Cash off his back? “It’s working toward serious. I wasn’t going to ask her to come, but since you and everyone else need some proof of my manhood, I’m sure she won’t mind tagging along.”
“Well, hot
diggity
dog. Wait ‘til I tell your brother.”
Great. For all he knew, she’d put an ad in the Cash Courier. “I’ve got to go, Mom. My meeting’s about to start.”
“Wait,” she pleaded. “What’s her name? What does she look like? Where’s she from?”
“I’ll call you with the flight details. Tell Dad I’ll be there.”
“You’re going to leave me guessing?”
He was going to leave her exactly where he found himself: with absolutely no idea who he was bringing home to meet his mother.
“What are you doing?” Bo Williams asked his wife.
Judy whipped her head up and unclasped her hands. “What do you mean?”
Bo sniffed the air and gaped at the bacon lying on a pile of paper towels. “You made bacon?”
“Yeah,” Judy said. “So what?” She hopped up and reached for a plate from the cabinet. She placed three slices on his plate and slid a perfect omelet from the skillet. When she turned around, Bo stood staring at her from just inside the kitchen door. “Are you going to sit down and eat or just stare at me all morning long?”
“What did you do?” he asked.
“What are you talking about?” She set his plate on the table and began filling his mug with coffee as if serving him a fat-laden breakfast were perfectly normal.
