One Fiancee To Go, Please - Jackie Braun

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out of his mouth.

      “Well, it looks like I’ll be able to make it for an early lunch with my fiancée after all,” he said. Too disgusted with himself to make eye contact with Ira, Jack continued to stare at the gold watch strapped to his wrist.

      He heard the leather of Ira’s chair creak as the older man leaned forward. “Fiancée, you say?”

      Jack nodded, his tongue unwilling to give voice to such a blatant untruth a second time.

      “Ah, yes, better not keep the young woman waiting.” Ira smiled brightly and Jack’s stomach clenched. He considered retracting his words, but he told himself that one little fib wouldn’t really matter.

      Halfway to the door Ira laid a companionable hand on Jack’s shoulder and confided, “I think you’ll do nicely as the new vice president of Faust Enterprises. I’m offering you the position, with the option to invest in the company and then take over completely when I retire.”

      “That’s terrific! I accept,” he said, nearly sending up a whoop of joy that would have been entirely inappropriate for the vice president of a distributorship. More solemnly he added, “You won’t regret this, sir.”

      “I’m sure I won’t,” Ira agreed. The two men shook hands, and Ira escorted Jack to the brass-doored elevator.

      While they waited for the elevator to arrive, Ira said, “If you have no other plans for the evening, how about dinner? We can toast your new job, and I can answer any other questions you may have about either the company or the community. I’m sure Davis will help you with house-hunting, but I do know an excellent real estate agent if you’re interested.”

      “That sounds great. I’d appreciate it.”

      The elevator arrived and Jack stepped inside, aware that he probably was wearing a silly grin on his face, but unable to check it. Vice president. He was the new vice president of Faust Enterprises, a company he would someday own as well as oversee. If possible, his grin widened.

      “Then it’s settled. My wife and I will meet you at your hotel at seven-thirty. The restaurant off the lobby serves an excellent rack of lamb,” Ira replied, his own smile paternal and understanding.

      The elevator’s shiny doors were just beginning to slide shut when Ira added, “I’m looking forward to meeting your girl.”

      “He wants to meet my girl!” Jack thundered into the telephone.

      “I can’t believe you told him she was here,” Davis replied, sounding incredulous. “Boston, Jack, she was supposed to be in Boston!”

      “Yeah, well, forgive me for being a lousy liar. It just slipped out that way.”

      “Okay, okay, there’s got to be a way to fix this,” Davis muttered on the other end of the line.

      Jack sighed miserably. “I have the position I’ve been dreaming about since graduate school, but the guy’s probably going to rescind the offer as soon as he realizes I lied through my teeth to get it.” He sank down on the edge of the bed and, with his free hand, kneaded the bunched muscles at the back of his neck.

      “You could say she’s not feeling well,” Davis offered, then grunted skeptically. “Of course, I wouldn’t put it past Faust to show up at your hotel tomorrow with a doctor in tow. If he could just meet the future Mrs. Maris once, I’m sure that would be the end of it. Too bad you don’t know any women willing to play the part of your happy bride-to-be. Unfortunately, most of the single women I know work at Faust, know someone at Faust, or wear support hose. But maybe Marianne has a friend. I’ll call her at work.”

      Jack stopped rubbing his neck and grinned as the idea hit him with the same force the crock of chili had the day before.

      “Never mind that. I do know a woman,” he said slowly. “And as it happens, she owes me a huge favor.”

      Chapter Two

      Tess was on her afternoon break when she saw him walk into the restaurant. He was taller than she remembered, at least six-two, with broad shoulders and lean hips. She watched the other female diners swivel in their seats to give him the once-over as he passed their tables, and she smiled. With the body of an athlete and a face that belonged on the cover of Gentleman’s Quarterly, he was a hard man to ignore.

      Tess took a moment to hope he would sit in another waitress’s section so that she would not have to face him again. She was surprised he had come back after yesterday’s disaster. Her surprise turned to alarm when he continued to walk to the rear of the restaurant and to the table where she sat alone, eating chicken salad and reading a chapter on metropolitan government.

      Oh God, she thought, nearly choking on her meal, he’s decided to make me pay after all.

      She was coughing when he reached her table. Her eyes watered a little as the chicken salad finally went down with the help of a gulp of iced tea. Still wary, she studied his expression, but he didn’t look angry or aggrieved. Nor was he holding a bill for a new suit. Instead, he smiled a little uncertainly and politely asked, “May I sit down?”

      Heart hammering, Tess could do no more than bob her head in response.

      “I’m assuming you remember me from yesterday,” he said, sliding onto the seat opposite hers.

      Oh yes, Tess thought, I remember you. He had the kind of face a woman would recall even if she had not also managed to humiliate herself so completely in his company.

      “You do remember me?” he repeated. To her embarrassed dismay, Tess realized she had been staring at him like some infatuated adolescent.

      “Um, yes, I remember you. I—I spilled chili in your lap. How is it by the way?”

      His eyebrows shot up, and she clarified, “The suit, I mean, n-not your lap. Did the stain come out?”

      Jack watched her blush again, as she had the day before, and he found it charming. Not many women blushed anymore, especially women who looked like this one. She wore her hair in a bun today, and once more he found himself wondering what it would look like when she let it down. To his guilty surprise, he began to fantasize again, picturing himself taking out the pins one at a time and watching thick curls the color of hot embers spill over her shoulders.

      “Well, did it?” she asked, interrupting his fantasy.

      He had to clear his throat twice before he could answer her question. “I haven’t got the suit back from the cleaners yet, so I don’t know if the stain came out.”

      “Oh.”

      He watched as some of the tension eased out of her shoulders, but the wariness remained in her gaze.

      “I’m interrupting your lunch.” He pointed to the half-eaten chicken salad on her plate.

      “That’s okay,” she assured him. “I still have another fifteen minutes before I have to go back to work. Can I buy you a sandwich or something, to make up for yesterday?”

      Jack smiled engagingly. He couldn’t have asked for a better segue.

      “As a matter of fact, there is something you can do for me. A favor, a really big favor,” he stressed, leaning forward in his chair.

      From across the table he watched the woman swallow nervously. “Wh-what sort of favor?”

      “Nothing illegal, I promise. It’s just that I’ve got myself into a jam. It’s kind of humorous actually,” he admitted with a rueful little chuckle. “I…um…led someone to believe I’m engaged. The only problem is, well, that’s not quite true. But now he’s asked my fiancée and me to dinner tonight.”

      “The fiancée you don’t have,” she said, brows furrowed as she tried to follow his story.

      “Yeah, that’s right. So, I find myself in the odd predicament of needing a woman.” As he said it, his

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