Make-Believe Beau

The bell on the door rang, and Flynt glanced that way. “Speaking of challenging draftsmen, Kurt just entered. He’s spotted us. Pretend I’ve said something witty and laugh.”

The strangled sound she emitted sounded more like a snicker, but what could Flynt expect when he’d taken her by surprise?

“All that got us was raised eyebrows. Could you do something else? Look at me like you’re smitten perhaps?”

Now, that she could do. She’d seen Miss Maggie’s girls cast scores of admiring glances at men during her days at the High Stakes. She sent one Flynt’s way.

His spoon clattered to the table, and his eyes went as round as the tabletop. He leaned forward and spoke softly. His voice held a hint of humor. “You certainly took me at my word. Anyone looking our way would have no doubt you’re attracted to me.”

Mortification sent heat racing to her cheeks. She’d acted in haste, realizing too late that the looks Maggie’s girls gave weren’t the type nice, respectable women copied. Eager to shift the focus from herself, she cast a glance at Kurt, who stood waiting for a table to become available. His mouth hung open. She forced an airy laugh such as she’d intended to produce earlier. “Well, my exuberance did serve a purpose. Kurt might not have suspected anything before, but he does now.”

“Indeed.” Flynt raked a hand through his hair. The unruly lock fell across his forehead. As much as she wanted to brush it back into place, she couldn’t. He had the bearing of a cat ready to pounce. If she were to touch him, he’d likely flinch, gasp or worse.

Kurt ambled over. No. Swaggered was more like it. He wore a smug smile. “Everything makes sense now.”

Flynt dug his spoon into his ice cream, paused and asked the obvious question. “What makes sense?”

“Why Jessie got the job, of course. She turned your head. You created a position so you could offer it to her.”

Jessie inhaled sharply. She longed to set the insufferable fellow straight, but the words lodged in her throat.

Flynt lifted the bite to his mouth, took his time eating it and set his spoon on the table. When he spoke, his words were cold, much colder than the dessert. He enunciated each one. “You’re mistaken. I hadn’t even met Jessie before her interview. Her exceptional work is what got her the position.”

Kurt scoffed. “I might not be as bright as you seem to think she is, but I know what I saw. Well, you can carry on your little tryst, but when Corby hears about it, he’s not going to be happy.”

It took every ounce of restraint she possessed not to laugh. If only Kurt knew... “Why are you out to undermine me? We’re a team.”

“We were a team, and then you showed up. And now you’re fraternizing with Flynt. I should tell Corby. Cross me and I will.”

Flynt rested his fisted hands on the table and responded with a believable show of concern. “I’d rather you didn’t, but if you feel it’s your duty, I understand.”

Jessie played along. “Are you sure you should be encouraging him?”

“I trust Kurt to keep what he’s seen to himself.”

The younger man gave a wry smile. “I’ll keep mum. For the present. Why blab now when the information could better serve me later?” He wheeled around and left the shop without ordering any ice cream.

Flynt shook his head. “That young man has some lessons to learn. Give him time and he will. I was feeling my oats when I was his age. The last six years have taught me a great deal. What about you? Did you have all the answers when you were twenty-one?”

“That’s when I arrived in California, confident but naive. The past three years have been humbling. I bounced from job to job the first two, doing anything from lettering funeral programs to drawing sketches of pipes for a sewer company’s catalog. I didn’t get my first drafting position here in California until Mr. Bishop hired me a year ago.”

“He said you received your training in Chicago. How did that come about?”

She chose her words carefully, lest she divulge too much. “An engineer came through town when I was eighteen. He saw a drawing I’d done and offered me a position in his firm. The first year I swept floors, emptied dustbins and the like. Mr. Fullerton taught me after hours. I spent my free time practicing until I was good enough to do tracings. I did those for a year and a half before I was assigned my first drawing. I had to redo it three times before Mr. Fullerton signed off on it.”

Flynt finished his ice cream and dropped his spoon into his dish with a clink. “Sounds like he was a stickler for details, an admirable trait in our field.”

She savored her last bite and licked the spoon.

He grinned.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t very ladylike, was it?”

He winked. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

A delicious sense of contentment washed over her, far sweeter than the treat they’d enjoyed. Flynt Kavanaugh wasn’t just handsome, knowledgeable and considerate. He was fun to be with. She could get used to his company. Perhaps this arrangement had its advantages.

The arrangement! How could she have forgotten? He was just playing a part.

She dropped her gaze to her lap and rolled the edge of the red-and-white gingham napkin. The silence stretched until she could stand it no longer.

“So what did you want to talk—”

“I thought we should talk—”

Their words collided. She laughed, a nervous sound quite unlike her. She’d dealt with hordes of men through the years, but Flynt was different. He was a gentleman through and through.

He gave her a reassuring smile. “It seems you’re eager to clarify things, too. Let me start by saying how sorry I am that I couldn’t come up with a better solution than this.”

Her chest tightened, making drawing a breath difficult. He didn’t want to spend time with her outside of work?

No. Of course he didn’t. Why would he? She was his colleague and nothing more. “I know it’s not ideal, but I’m prepared to do my part.” Doubts gnawed at her. “Unless you’ve changed your mind, that is?”

“Not at all. I agreed to Corby’s plan.”

He had. And he’d been quite gallant about it. “Thank you. No one’s ever done anything like this for me.” The admission had slipped out unchecked. Where was her customary self-control? She pressed her lips together to keep any more words from rushing out.

“It’s my pleasure.”

It wasn’t, but it was nice of him to say so. “So, what do we do next?”

“I’ll pick you up at half past seven Saturday evening, and we’ll head to the theater. The Placerville Philharmonic Society does a fine job. As much as you love music, you’re sure to enjoy the concert.”

“How do you know I like music?” She did, very much, but she hadn’t said anything to him.

He toyed with the spoon resting in his dish. “I, um, heard you humming while you work.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize I was. It’s an old habit. I’ll work on breaking it.”

“It’s not a problem. You didn’t disturb me. I like hearing the hymns.”

Flynt recognized them? He must be a churchgoing man. Although he might view it as prying, she had to know. “Do you attend services?”

He sent her another of those warm smiles of his that caused her stomach to flutter. “I do. Across the street from your boardinghouse at the Church of Our Saviour. Will I see you there Sunday?”

“I plan on attending, yes. I’ve heard good things about the reverend and his messages.”

“Mr. Parks is wonderful. I’m sure you’ll like him.”

She tilted her head. “Mr. Parks? He doesn’t use the title?”

Flynt shook his head. “He’s not like other ministers. I would be happy to introduce you to him. That is, if you’ll allow me to escort you. As your beau, it would be expected.”

True. The thought caused her to smile. While she couldn’t allow her feelings to become engaged, she would enjoy Flynt’s company over the next few weeks. As long as she didn’t allow herself to entertain dreams of a future with a kind, thoughtful man like him, she would come through this with her heart intact. Wouldn’t she?

* * *

Where had he put that pin? Without it his cravat wouldn’t stay put.

Flynt rummaged through his bureau drawer, not stopping until he found the elusive pin hiding beneath the stack of freshly laundered handkerchiefs. He opened the jewel box. As was the case every time he did so, memories of his mother rushed in. She might have given him up to be raised by another, but she hadn’t forgotten him. The only money she’d ever sent him had shown up when he turned eighteen. Three years later the pin arrived.

The first had been accompanied by a letter from his mother’s lawyer telling him that she wanted him to use the funds for college. The latter had included a note in her own handwriting, the only one he’d ever received.

He unfolded the slip of paper and read the few words.

My Dearest Son,

Widow Hagerty tells me you’ve earned an engineering degree and that you dream of designing irrigation systems. I couldn’t be more proud of the man you’ve become.

I had my jeweler create this pin especially for you. Whenever you look at it, I hope you’ll remember me fondly.

All my love,

Your Mother

Every time he saw the bold swirls of her handwriting, his chest tightened, just as it had the day Ma Hagerty handed him the unexpected gift. While he wanted to believe what his mother had written, he couldn’t. If a mother truly loved her child, she didn’t give him up.

He secured his cravat with the pin. Stepping in front of the looking glass, he studied his reflection. The man who stared back at him was as well outfitted as any other gentleman. He’d worked hard to gain respectability. No one looking at him would believe him to be anything other than what he seemed—a successful engineer. He’d left his past behind. And now he was about to rub elbows with Placerville’s elite.

A surge of excitement coursed through him. In half an hour he’d be walking into the theater with an incredibly beautiful woman by his side. Although he wasn’t Jessie’s beau, others would think she welcomed his company. They might even imagine she had feelings for him. Not that she did. They were colleagues, nothing more.

But he did enjoy her company. The evening at the ice-cream parlor had been more pleasant than he’d hoped. He recalled the way she’d looked at him when Kurt had headed toward their table and chuckled. Jessie had given him the most coquettish smile ever sent his way. He’d seen plenty of them aimed at the men who’d frequented the saloon where the saucy women his mother employed had entertained when he was a boy, but he’d never expected to see an alluring gaze directed at him. It was a good thing he hadn’t taken a bite just then, or he would have choked on it.

When he’d asked Jessie to feign interest in him, she’d responded with a startling display of boldness. She was a lady to the core—bright, beautiful and cultivated—unlike the saloon girls who’d pinched his cheeks and fawned over him as a boy. Due to her inexperience, Jessie had gotten carried away. Her flaming cheeks afterward proved she realized her mistake.

He would have to make his requests clear in the future and gently educate her in courtship rituals. Not that he had much experience. His education and his work had been his focus.

His cologne caught his eye. He uncorked the bottle and splashed on some of the citrusy scent. Jessie deserved to have him looking and smelling his best.

He reached for his cutaway jacket, shrugged it on and set out. His long strides carried him from the Cary House hotel up Coloma Street to Jessie’s boardinghouse in no time.

Pausing at the wrought iron gate, he glanced at the second-story bay window Jessie had told him was hers, hoping for a glimpse of her, but he could see no one from that angle.

He climbed the steps and rapped on the front door of the stately green house. The motherly owner yanked it open, saw him and smiled broadly.

“Welcome, Mr. Kavanaugh. My, aren’t you looking dapper this evening?”

“Thank you. I’m here for Jessie.”

“Oh, yes. She’s expecting you. I’ll let her know you’re here.”

Mrs. Monroe made it up the stairs with remarkable speed, turned to the right and knocked on a door just out of view. A muffled conversation followed. Flynt heard his name but little else.

The older woman returned, patted his arm and smiled. “She’ll be down shortly. I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time at the concert. Do you know what pieces are being performed?”

He did his best to carry on a conversation with the kindly woman, but keeping his mind on her comments and questions grew more difficult by the moment. After what seemed like an eternity, a door clicked shut above. He focused on the upper landing.

Jessie appeared, and his jaw dropped. He stood rooted to the spot, unable to speak, unable to move, unable to do anything but gaze at the vision of loveliness above him. Her glorious auburn hair was piled on her head in a fancy style. Loose wisps framed her face, drawing his attention to her tentative smile. Her emerald gown, although modest, showcased her womanly figure beautifully.

Mrs. Monroe patted his arm. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

Her comment registered at some level, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Jessie. His gaze locked with hers. The twin pools of glorious green drew him in, deeper and deeper.

All else faded from view. He couldn’t feel the floor beneath him, although it had to be there because it shifted. Clutching the newel cap to steady himself, he drank his fill.

Taking her silk skirts in one hand, she lifted them a couple of inches and began her descent, one slow, careful step at a time. Her captivating eyes never left his. She paused at the landing halfway down and graced him with a smile unlike any she’d ever sent his way. Hesitant but sweeter than honey.

He forced his lips to lift in an answering smile he hoped conveyed encouragement and appreciation.

She continued her journey down the stairs, but she no longer looked into his face. Instead she focused on a spot somewhere below his chin.

The familiar scent of lilacs greeted him as she drew near. He released his grip on the handrail, but that left him with two hands hanging limply at his sides. At a loss as to what to do with them, he clasped them behind his back. It was either that or risk disaster by following his wayward thoughts, which suggested he reach out and brush her rosy cheek with the back of his hand.

Standing on the bottom step, Jessie drew in a deep breath, causing her chest to rise and fall beneath the row of jet-black buttons. She lifted her head. Uncertainty shone in her expressive eyes. He had to say something, but with his throat as dry as Hangtown Creek at the end of the summer, getting words out wasn’t easy.

“You look...” He searched for a word that would adequately describe her, but his mind went blank.

She tilted her head. “Nice?”

“Yes. Nice.”

The instant the lackluster compliment slipped out, he mentally kicked himself. “Nice” was a vast understatement. “Pretty” would have been better. But even that didn’t come close to describing her. He forced his sluggish brain to work.

Beautiful? She was, but he couldn’t say that. Besides, many women could be called beautiful. Jessie was more. She was...gorgeous. Yes! That was it.

“Not just nice. You look go—” He stopped himself just in time. Jessie was his colleague, not his sweetheart. He had no right to shower her with compliments, no matter how much he wanted to do so. “You look good. Very good.”

Her features relaxed. “You look very good yourself.” Her gaze traveled from the toes of his recently polished boots in a steady climb until it rested on his chest. “That’s a beautiful pin. It’s rare to see a pear-shaped sapphire.”

He forced himself to concentrate on what she was saying, which was no easy task. “It was a gift from my mother. She chose that cut because it resembles a drop of water.” That was what Ma Hagerty had told him when she’d passed on the gift.

“And the diamonds around it? Do they represent something, too?”

“Sunlight sparkling on the surface of a lake.”

“I see that. She must be proud of you and all you’ve achieved.”

His thoughts turned to the letter he’d left lying on top of his bureau. “Your parents must be proud of you, as well. Do they know about your new job?”

She shrugged. “They’re both gone.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“How could you? We hardly know each other.”

Her matter-of-fact statement brought reality crashing in on him. “You shouldn’t have to do this. If you’d rather not go to the concert—”

“Not go?” She laughed, a musical sound that eased the tension between his shoulders. “Of course we’ll go. And we’ll make the best of the situation. You might even enjoy yourself. I intend to.”

Her playfulness was contagious. “Even if your escort is a stodgy engineer.”

“I wouldn’t call you stodgy. Serious at times, perhaps, but not stodgy.” She grinned. “In fact, I believe there’s a fun-loving fellow inside you.”

“What makes you think that?”

She focused on the floor and traced the pattern in the runner with the toe of her boot. Her response was so soft he had to lean close to catch it. “You agreed to a game of make-believe for my sake. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.”

She jerked her head up. “You did? Why?”

“For the same reasons you did, I suppose.”

“Because Corby expected it of us?”

“Yes.” That was true, but only to a point. He hadn’t admitted it before, but he welcomed the opportunity to spend time with her. For the remaining three weeks he could pretend this remarkable woman enjoyed his company as much as he enjoyed hers.

There was no harm in that. Was there?

“Speaking of Corby, we should be going. I’ll say good-night to Maybelle, and we can be off.”

Jessie returned moments later, and they headed down the hill, walking side by side in companionable silence. They reached Main, where a stream of concertgoers dressed in their finest overflowed the plank walkways and spilled into the street.

Eager to keep her from being jostled by the crowd, he held out his arm. She stared at it a moment, wrapped both hands around his elbow and tugged. “Would you come with me, please?”

“What is it?”

“We’re about to make our first major appearance as a couple, and we haven’t formulated a plan. We need to do that.”

Her take-charge manner couldn’t conceal her uneasiness. If following her would put her mind at rest, follow her he would. After all, he didn’t mind having her to himself a little longer.

Chapter Five

Jessie retraced their steps with Flynt right behind her. She turned north on Coloma Street and ducked into a secluded spot.

Flynt inclined his head. “You’ve obviously given this some thought. What do you have in mind?”

“I realized we haven’t addressed the matter of physical contact. Due to the nature of our...relationship, I think it would be wise for us to clarify things.”

She had no experience dealing with a fine gentleman like Flynt—bright, well educated and so handsome in his cutaway coat, snowy white shirt and silk cravat that she had to force herself not to stare. He obviously came from a family of means. His parents loved him and lavished expensive gifts on him.

Her life had been much different. She’d been raised in a run-down farmhouse back East with a father who’d fallen prey to one moneymaking scheme after another. He’d left her all alone and destitute when he died eight years before, giving her no choice but to accept Ace’s offer of a job in his saloon.

She’d already committed a terrible faux pas at the ice-cream parlor, gazing at Flynt the way Maggie’s girls did one of the High Stakes Saloon’s patrons. If she didn’t find out what he expected of her, she was sure to make more. The last thing she needed was for him to suspect her of being the type of woman for whom he held such contempt.

If only she had experience in romantic relationships, but the few gentlemen she’d known were business colleagues. She’d kept things between them strictly professional.

Flynt studied her and nodded. “So that’s why you dragged me here? I thought you were upset about me offering my arm.”

She forced an airy laugh. “Of course not. It was crowded. You were just being a gentleman.”

“Exactly. I would have done the same for any woman in my care.”

His words were a splash of cold water in her face. When he’d seen her at the top of the stairs, he’d looked enraptured. She’d allowed herself to believe he was honestly taken with her, but his reaction had been a performance for Maybelle’s benefit. Nothing more.

“I understand, but I’m not just any woman, am I? I’m the one who is supposedly smitten with you, as you are with me. As such, I’m sure Corby will expect us to act the part in all respects. How do you plan to proceed?”

“I hadn’t really given it any thought. Such things tend to develop naturally.”

That made sense, but she still needed to know how a lady was to behave. Lord, I could use Your help. “While that might be true in most situations, ours is unique. I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know what you intend to do beforehand, so I’m not taken by surprise.”

“Fair enough. Shall we get going now? We don’t want to be late. I will, once again, offer you my arm, as I’ll do in the future whenever the situation warrants.”

“Very well.” She took it without hesitation.

He cast her a sidelong glance and smiled. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Not at all. Flynt was everything she would look for in a man—if her past didn’t prevent her from harboring such dreams. Now that she’d cleared things up, she might as well enjoy the closeness and feeling of belonging—for as long as it lasted.

He guided them safely through the crowd and into the theater, where he handed their tickets to an usher. The young man led them to their seats, which were near the front. Corby must have paid a premium price for them.

She settled into the plush velvet cushions and soaked in the beauty of the elegant surroundings. A quick calculation of the number of seats revealed that fifteen hundred people could enjoy a performance in the impressive building.

The buzz of conversations filled the air. She looked up one row and down the next, admiring the colorful gowns on the ladies. By contrast, the vast majority of men wore black, the same as Flynt. But no man was as suave and debonair as he.

She turned and found him looking right at her with unbridled admiration. Perhaps she’d been wrong and he did find her appealing after all.

He shifted his gaze to the doors. “Look who just came in.”

Corby and the silk-clad, silver-haired woman on his arm followed an usher. The couple was headed their way. Closer and closer they came until...

Jessie whispered to Flynt. “You don’t think they’re going to be right behind us, do you?”

“Looks that way.”

Sure enough, the usher paused at the end of the row and held out a hand. Corby and the elegantly attired woman made their way to the two empty seats.

Once they were settled, Corby leaned forward. “Good evening. It’s nice to see you here. Flynt’s met my charming wife before, but allow me to introduce you two ladies. Jessie, this is Fidelia Corbin, the light of my life.” He gazed at his wife like a smitten schoolboy. The crusty manager had a softer side. That knowledge made him a little less intimidating. “Delia, this is Miss Jessica Sinclair, the newest member of our drafting team.”

The older woman clasped Jessie’s hand and smiled warmly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear. Carter speaks very highly of you. He neglected to tell me what a beautiful young woman you are, though. I adore red hair, and yours is such a lovely shade.”

“Thank you. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”

The conductor stepped from behind the floor-to-ceiling brocade curtains in front of the stage, and a hush came over the room, sparing Jessie the need to carry on a conversation. Her stomach had already been roiling. With Corby seated so close that she could smell the cigar smoke on his jacket, she felt as though a hurricane had hit.