Her Stand-In Boyfriend
by Kelly Jamieson
Copyright © 2015 by Kelly Jamieson. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Chapter One
How much worse could things get?
This never happened at events Lexi organized. Sure, there were problems from time to time. She couldn’t control everything, much as she tried with her checklists, notes, and backup plans. Over the years, she’d learned to stay calm when problems arose, because no matter what, she would figure out a solution and make things at least appear perfect to her clients and their guests. She swore they would never know about any snafus or screwups.
Sadly, there was no way to hide the problems tonight and make things appear perfect.
With her insides in knots, Lexi attempted to console a sobbing Mrs. Jacobs while Mr. Jacobs tossed back yet another glass of Laguvulin. “The guests are all eating,” she told Mrs. Jacobs, standing in the hall outside the Grande Salon at the swank Cavanaugh Club. “They seem to be enjoying the meal.”
Mr. Jacobs snorted. Lexi bugged her eyes out at him, and he grimaced, then patted his wife’s shoulder. “Sheesh right,” he slurred. “It’s just food.”
“It’s not just food!” Mrs. Jacobs wailed. “This dinner was supposed to be sophisticated and elegant!” She sobbed again.
The Jacobs were a well-known power couple in Chicago, and Steve Jacobs had planned this big bash for his wife Liza’s fortieth birthday. Lexi had been thrilled to work with such prominent clients, knowing this could lead to more great jobs for her events planning company, Papillon.
She fought to keep her expression calm, her heart giving a squeeze of sympathy for the other woman. Lexi felt her pain—she, too, had wanted this event to be perfect. Her insides went hollow thinking about how bad this could be for her reputation. “Let’s go into the ladies’ room and fix your makeup,” she said in a gentle voice. “Then you can go back in there and finish your dinner.”
“I’m not even hungry anymore.” Mrs. Jacobs sniffled, but let Lexi lead her to the bathroom.
Luckily Lexi carried a “tool kit” to every event she planned, which contained scissors, pliers, tape, wire, elastics, push pins, safety pins, and a whole lot more, but also a tube of mascara, concealer, and powder. This wasn’t the kind of emergency she’d expected when she’d included those items. A sobbing, distraught client was not something she ever wanted to deal with. Or had ever had to deal with in the past.
“There are a lot of lovely gifts out there,” she said, trying to get Mrs. Jacobs’s mind off the dinner. “I’m sure you’re looking forward to opening them.”
Finally they returned to the party. People were eating, although Lexi had caught the surprised looks and exchanged glances as plates had been served. She sighed.
She’d recently started using a new caterer for parties, and they’d seemed awesome…until they’d disappeared off the face of Chicago. Yesterday, she’d spent the day making frantic phone calls trying to find someone who could cater the party for a hundred guests at such short notice. She’d ended up with Baba Yaworski’s Ukrainian Catering. Sadly the cabbage rolls, pierogis, and kielbasa were not what Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs had in mind for their elegant party.
On top of the meal problem, the pretty birthday cake Lexi had ordered from the same caterer was also a no-show. It was going to be beautiful, a huge black and white polka-dotted cake topped with a big pink fondant bow. Thankfully, Lexi’s friend Jamie, a pastry chef just starting her own business, had saved the day by whipping up several cakes for her that morning. They were nothing like the amazing creation she’d originally planned, but at least it was cake. Unfortunately, those cakes had also made Liza Jacobs cry since they weren’t the beautiful cake she’d expected.
Mrs. Jacobs sat next to her husband, who had refilled his glass of scotch for about the hundredth time that night. As Lexi turned away, a man in a dark suit approached her.
“You’re the event planner?” he asked.
“Yes. Lexi Mannis.” She extended her hand to shake his.
“I’m the head of security,” he said. “We’re going to move the gifts to a more secure location.”
“I’m sure they’re fine here,” she said. “But okay.” She needed to get the cake with the candle ready to bring out.
After a big production of guests singing along to “Happy Birthday” played over the sound system, a still-miserable Mrs. Jacobs blew out the single sparkler. A swarm of servers descended to cut and serve the cakes. Luckily, they were delicious—red velvet with cream cheese frosting. Her friend Mac’s favorite. Maybe she could scrounge a piece to take home, since he was coming over tomorrow.
Lexi’s nerves started to settle. As the time neared for Mrs. Jacobs to open her gifts, she went in search of the security guy who’d moved them.
But nobody at the club knew who she was talking about.
“We don’t have security staff,” the assistant manager told her.
Their eyes met, and Lexi’s insides seized again as fear turned her blood to ice water. Staff members helped her look, but the gifts were nowhere to be found.
Pressure built behind her cheekbones, and she fought back tears. This could not be happening.
“There has to be some mistake,” she said to the assistant manager. “Please tell me someone didn’t just steal all the gifts.”
He frowned, looking as ill as she felt. “It kinda looks that way.”
“Oh shit.” Shit shit shit. How was she going to tell Mrs. Jacobs about this?
She resisted the urge to make a run for it. That would be much easier. But she couldn’t do that, or she’d never get another job again.
Although, that might happen anyway after this epic disaster.
They had to call the police, of course, which totally put a damper on the rest of the evening. Guests started leaving, muttering to themselves, while Mrs. Jacobs locked herself in a bathroom stall, crying again.
By the time she was ready to go home, Lexi’s head was pounding. She’d dealt with the police and the staff at the club, and attempted to soothe Mrs. Jacobs. There wasn’t anything more she could do.
In the cloakroom, she set down her purse, her tool kit, and the small box with the piece of red velvet cake in it for Mac, then tugged her coat from a hanger. She wearily slipped her arms into it, eager to get home and forget about the disastrous evening. Lifting her hair from beneath the collar, she turned to see Mr. Jacobs swaying on his feet and eyeing her with a look that made a shiver crawl down her spine. She forced a smile. “I’m sorry again, Mr. Jacobs.”
He moved closer, and she stepped back. And stepped back again. “This party was a disashter,” he said. Then he reached for her.
Her heart leaped into her throat, and her eyes flew open wide. She smacked his hands away, stumbling back, but she hit the wall. “What are you doing?”
“I’ll still pay your bill,” he said. “If you do what I want. Right now.”
“What? What do you want?” Adrenaline surged through her veins, making her knees wobble and her hands shake.
“You.” He leaned in and tried to kiss her.
Ack! She turned her head and dodged his mouth, smelling the booze on his breath. Her stomach rolled and her heart thudded. Forget about getting paid! Trapped between him and the wall, she gave him another shove, but despite being completely shellacked on Scotch, he didn’t move. “No! Get away from me!”
He still tried to kiss her, his hands now on her body.
Shit.
She did the only thing she could think of. She lifted her knee in a sharp move that connected with his junk.
“Argh!” He stumbled back and bent at the waist, clutching his crotch. “What the fuck?”
Lexi looked up to see Mrs. Jacobs standing in the door of the cloakroom, her red eyes big as plates. “What is going on?” she demanded.
Lexi closed her own eyes briefly.
Yep, her event planning business was toast.
Burned toast.
She grabbed her things and walked out of the club onto West Superior Street, tapping down the dark sidewalk in her high heels. She’d been on her feet all night, and her soles burned. As did her stomach. And her eyes.
Wow. Things had been going incredibly well for her business, and now all the work she had put into building her reputation was crumbling.
Lexi entered the parking garage and found her car where she’d parked it earlier, tossing her tool kit into the trunk before climbing into the driver’s seat. She set her purse and the piece of birthday cake on the passenger seat. For a moment she gripped the steering wheel, shaking her head. Letting out another sigh, she put the car in reverse and backed out of the parking spot.
Grateful to be back home in the little apartment she shared with her best friend Vanda, she finally kicked off the stiletto pumps. Vanda was out, and the apartment was dark and quiet. Lexi padded in bare feet to the kitchen in search of the bottle of wine they’d opened last night. She frowned, peering into the fridge. Gone. No wine. Son of a bucket.
She heaved a sigh and turned to go to her room. Nibbling her bottom lip, she eyed the box with the red velvet cake where she’d set it on the counter. No. That was for Mac. Her secret stash of gummy bears would have to suffice tonight.
She frowned as she squeezed past the big cardboard boxes taking up space in the hall. Her new IKEA dresser and nightstand had been sitting there for almost a week. Mac was coming tomorrow to help build them. Thank god, because she was totally inept when it came to stuff like that.
As she chewed gummy bears and got ready for bed, she tried not to replay every pathetic detail of the evening in her mind, but it was hard not to. She loved her job, and her business was important to her. How could absolutely everything go wrong at the same time?
After she’d graduated from college with a business degree, she’d worked in the corporate world for a while, but then took a year off to travel. She’d figured she’d come back and find another job easily enough, but that didn’t happen. However, she’d also discovered that the corporate world of finance wasn’t as much fun as she’d thought it would be, as in, it was no fun at all. She’d decided to try to make a living doing something that was fun…something she’d always enjoyed, which was planning parties.
With the professional relationships she had cultivated through her previous job, the connections she had via her two dads, and even the networking opportunities her friendship with Mac provided, her business had taken off. The name of the business, Papillon, came from the fact that in college she was known as a social butterfly. It had been almost two years since she’d started Papillon, and things had been going great.
Until tonight. Now her reputation was probably trashed. All the people at the party would talk about it, and who would hire her knowing about that disaster? And what if the Jacobs decided not to pay their bill?
Sleep eluded her as she lay in her bed with her stomach in knots, awake for a good part of the night.
***
Mac sat on the floor in Lexi’s living room Sunday afternoon with pieces of furniture spread out around him.
“You need to read the directions,” Lexi said, sitting cross-legged on the couch.
“No I don’t.” He totally knew what he was doing. Thank Christ, because Lex was useless. Gorgeous. Smart, absolutely. But not when it came to building furniture.
“How did the party go last night?” He peered at a dark square of laminated fiberboard.
“Oh my god. Don’t even ask.” She fell back into the couch cushions, closing her eyes.
“What?” He frowned.
“It was a total nightmare. You know how I couldn’t get hold of the caterer?”
“Yeah.” She’d mentioned it last weekend when they’d bought the IKEA furniture, which was too heavy for her to carry alone. He’d figured she’d reach them eventually.
“Well, I never did find them. They’ve apparently gone out of business or something, and I had to find someone else last minute.”
He set down the Allen wrench and gave her his full attention. Her red-gold hair tumbled in waves around her shoulders, and even dressed in a baggy sweater and leggings, she looked sweet and sexy. He watched a host of emotions scroll across her face as she talked, her green eyes getting shiny, her pretty mouth trembling. When her voice quivered, his chest clenched. Fuck, she’s really upset about this.
“And then he grabbed me and tried to kiss me.”
Mac’s body jolted, and his forehead tightened. “What the fuck?”
“Apparently he would overlook everything and still pay me if I let him nail me in the cloakroom.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Mac leaped to his feet and strode three steps to the couch. He dropped down beside her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She sighed. “I kneed him in the nuts.”
Mac choked. “Oh.”
“Right in front of his wife. Happy birthday to her.”
“Fuck, Lex… He touched you?” Rage rose inside him in a scorching blast. “Who is this asshole? I’m gonna—”
“No, you’re not.” She touched her fingers to his lips. “I’m fine. He was so drunk he probably would’ve had whisky dick anyway.”
“What the hell do you know about whisky dick? Never mind.” He closed his mind off to the idea of Lexi and another guy’s dick.
“It’s done. It was an epic disaster, but it’s done.” She sighed. “And possibly so is my business.”
“Bullshit. Your business will be fine.” He reached out and pulled her in for a hug.
Probably a mistake, because his body responded to the feel of her soft curves against him with a familiar stirring down south. But damn, she was upset, and he wanted to make her feel better.
“It’ll be fine,” he murmured, his cheek against her hair. “It was only one party. None of it was your fault.”
“Of course it was. I’m the event planner. It’s up to me to make sure everything goes perfectly.”
“You didn’t know someone was going to steal the gifts… And the caterer would go out of business… And your client was a drunken lech… But, heck, you said the cake was good.”
She huffed out a laugh. “Thank you, Mac. I can always count on you to put things in perspective.”
He grinned and gave her a squeeze. “Your business is a success because you’re good at what you do. You know it. I know it. And so do all of your clients.”
She shrugged.
“I’ve told you before, you need to sell yourself better. Don’t be modest. You are good at it. You love planning and making lists. With your business background and the cool ideas you come up with, plus the fact that you’re so anal—er, I mean, detail oriented—of course your business is a success. And it will continue to be.”
“I shouldn’t have let that guy take the gifts.”
“You had no idea he was a thief.” He squeezed her again. “Come on. Don’t beat yourself up over things you couldn’t control.”
She pulled back and gave him a watery smile. “Thank you.” The warm softness in her eyes had his gut twisting. “Okay. You made me feel better. Now. Back to my furniture.”
Jesus. The idea of some fuckwit groping her made his stomach churn and his fists clench. How was he supposed to forget that and build a fucking dresser? He sucked in a long breath through his nose and then exhaled. “Right.” He moved off the couch, his blood still running hot. She was okay. Well, she’d hurt the guy, so there was that.
He lowered himself back to the floor to resume the construction project.
Moments later, Lexi said, “That’s such a tiny little tool.”
“That’s not what my last girlfriend said.” He looked up and met her eyes, and damn, he loved the smile and the choked laugh she gave. He grinned back at her.
They were friends.
Right.
When he’d met Lexi in college six years ago, he’d been dating someone else, but it hadn’t been long before he was so crazy for Lexi that he’d broken up with Brittany. Because he’d been off limits when they met, Lexi saw him as a friend and that was it. She’d dated other guys—hell, guys had been lined up at her door. Her red hair and freckles should have given her a Raggedy Ann look, should have been more of a turn-off than a turn-on. But her energy, smart mouth, and frequent laughter drew people in. As he’d gotten to know her better, she’d become more and more attractive…her pretty face, bright eyes and sweet smile, and an ass that could make him hard with just a glimpse of it in a pair of snug jeans.
He looked down at the Allen wrench in his hand and tried to refocus. He searched the floor for what he needed.
“What are you looking for?” Lexi asked.
“I need a screw.”
“You and me both,” she muttered.
Oh, hell no. He could not let his thoughts wander down that torturous path. Instead he forced a laugh. “Hey, speak for yourself.”
She giggled, and again he was glad he’d made her laugh.
She wanted sex? Interesting. She hadn’t dated anyone in a while. She said it was because she was too busy and boyfriends were too much work.
“When you’re done, I have a reward for you,” she said.
No. Don’t even go there, asshole.
He squeezed his eyes closed, the guy downstairs once again stirring in his jeans.
Down, boy.
He cleared his throat. “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
“Red velvet cake.”
He glanced up.
She nodded, her eyes alight. “With cream cheese icing. I saved a piece from last night. You can have it after the dinner I promised I’d cook you for helping.”
“Okay. There’s some motivation to get this done.”
It wasn’t sex with Lexi, but hey, since that was never going to happen, red velvet cake was the next best thing. Well, not really. But it was the best he was going to get.
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