From Fake to Forever

Three

Meredith spent Monday morning shopping at Barneys and cursed her meager credit limit. She’d packed a few days’ worth of outfits for her unexpected trip to New York, not nearly enough for the two or three weeks she now planned to stay. And nothing in her suitcase would fly as a wardrobe for an employee at a high-class place like Hurst.

She still couldn’t quite believe she had landed a job in a real fashion house. It was a dream come true, but one of those usually unattainable childhood dreams like becoming an astronaut or ballerina. And part of the dream was getting to dress the part.

Asking Jason for an advance on her salary would have invited too many questions, so she made do with the sale rack. Most of the clothes were out of season. She’d be outed as a fraud in a New York minute. No pun intended.

But still, it was a morning shopping at Barneys in Manhattan and life did not suck. Except for the part where she still didn’t have the divorce papers signed...and she’d have to take an extended vacation from her job with her sister.

For the past two years, she’d assisted Cara as she designed and sold wedding dresses to Houston brides. Cara had recently begun selling her dresses in an upscale boutique and business was booming. Meredith wanted to make more of a contribution than simply as an assistant. What else could she do but buy in as a partner? Wedding dresses were Cara’s first love and she excelled at the design side. Meredith might as well help on the financial side. She had little else to offer.

This was her chance to prove she had what it took. To prove everyone wrong who thought there wasn’t anything more to Meredith than the stuff they saw on the outside.

Cara was in Barbados. Or was it Saint Martin? Meredith could never keep track of which resort her brother-in-law had dragged her sister to. Keith, her sister’s husband, ran around the Caribbean fixing up resorts in his consultant job and Cara traveled with him. Hopefully she’d understand Meredith’s need for time off without asking too many questions.

Meredith made a mental note to call her sister later.

Her phone buzzed and she keyed up the text message from Jason: Where are you? I’m at the hotel.

She texted him back: Shopping. Be back soon.

What was that all about? Was she supposed to sit around and wait for His Highness to appear? He might have his precious leverage—and she was still a little miffed about it, make no mistake—but that didn’t mean Meredith planned to jump when he said jump.

When she got to the hotel after dallying an extra ten minutes just because, Jason was waiting for her in the lobby. He didn’t notice her right away. Unashamedly, she watched him as he talked on the phone.

The man was unparalleled in the looks department. Clean-cut, gorgeous cheekbones, equally comfortable in a suit, jeans or nothing at all. It was enough to make a girl salivate.

And then he saw her. A smile spread across his face and sent a shiver down her spine.

Platonic was not going to happen. She was in New York for a couple of weeks, they were married, for God’s sake, and they’d certainly had plenty of sex in the past. Why would he even say something so ridiculous?

They’d walked away from each other once and it hadn’t worked out so well. It was time to try not walking away.

He pocketed his phone and stood.

“You should give me a key,” he suggested when she met up with him as he strode toward the elevator.

“In case you want to make a middle-of-the-night visit to your wife? Because I’m totally okay with that.”

He chuckled and stuck his palm against the open elevator door so Meredith could enter ahead of him. “Because I’m paying for the room. I might as well use it to make private phone calls instead of letting everyone in the lobby hear about Lyn’s strategic plans.”

Why was he so against resuming their relationship? It wasn’t as if she was asking him to stay married—that wasn’t what she wanted, either. Once she got herself established in a career, then she could think about whether she actually wanted to get married. Some women—like Cara—dreamed of nothing but white dresses and bouquets, but Meredith had never thought marriage was all that great of a goal.

Figuring out how to be a grown-up was the scary, frustrating can’t-see-the-light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel quandary Meredith couldn’t dig her way out of. That goal felt as out of reach as it had two years ago.

She stuck her tongue out at him and fished the extra card key out of her purse, then handed it over. “Seems like a waste of a good hotel room to me. Sorry you had to hang out in the lobby, sugar, but perhaps you should have told me to expect you and I would have been here,” she said without a trace of irony.

She hadn’t heard from him all weekend. Not that she’d expected to.

He waved it off and followed her to her room. “I was in the neighborhood, so I came by to go over all the arrangements I’ve made for you at Hurst House.”

“Already?” Her throat got a little tight as this Machiavellian deal of Jason’s got real.

What did she know about being a spy, in a fashion house or otherwise? The people at Jason’s father’s company would see through her instantly. If she failed at helping Jason get his plans back on track, would he refuse to sign the papers to spite her?

She should have gotten more of this established before she agreed. Actually, she should have told him no and demanded the divorce. But she well remembered how destroyed he’d been over the company splitting up, and she did have a little bit of fault in the marriage becoming legal in the first place, though how the paperwork had gotten submitted still baffled her. Her father’s lawyer guessed that someone filed it on their behalf, probably a well-meaning hotel maid, but they’d never know for sure. Too much time had passed for anyone to remember.

She felt horrible about her part in it, and if she wished to prove she wasn’t actually a scatterbrain, this was her opportunity. She couldn’t abandon Jason. Adults took responsibility for mistakes and accepted consequences. Period.

“Yeah, already.” His eyebrows went up. “You think I have time to waste? Avery doesn’t rest, and she’s too smart to underestimate. She’ll have alternate plans in place in hopes of upstaging me. I can feel it.”

“So what am I going to be doing?”

“You mentioned the other night at dinner that you’d been working as a designer’s assistant. So it was a no-brainer to put you in that same role at Hurst House.”

“Just like that?”

She would be working for a God-honest designer. If it was that easy to get a job working in the fashion industry in New York, could she have been doing it all along?

Her throat opened a little. At least she didn’t have to learn a whole new job to be Jason’s spy.

Except working with Cara was miles and miles away from working with an established clothing label. Cara loved her and if Meredith occasionally messed up, it didn’t feel like the end of the world. That’s why buying into Cara’s business was so important. It wasn’t like Meredith could work with just anyone. It was the only opportunity available to her.

“Just like that. After I called my mother and asked her to recommend you, she called Hurst House Human Resources and informed them you’d be arriving tomorrow morning. The vice president of HR still has a guilt complex over defecting to Hurst House, so he’d pretty much do whatever my mom says.”

“I see.” How crazy was that? If only the rest of Meredith’s appointed task went so easily. “And that’s it? I show up, help one of the designers and wait around for Avery to stroll by? What if I never even see her?”

Why had she agreed to this again?

“You’ll have to wing it. If you want the divorce badly enough, you’ll figure out how to get the information I need.”

Oh, so that’s why he needed leverage. He didn’t have any idea how this was supposed to go and hoped she’d be desperate enough to figure it out for him.

She snorted to cover her rising panic. “Lucky for you I’m a fast thinker.”

“It’s not luck.” He shot her a strange look. “If I didn’t think you could handle it, I never would have suggested this idea. You’ve got one of the sharpest minds of anyone I’ve ever met and I have no doubt you’ll put your own spin on the assignment. In fact, I’m counting on it.”

He thought she was smart. The revelation planted itself in her abdomen and spread with warm fingers. And of course, that alone motivated her in a way nothing else could. “You got it. I’m gonna be the best spy you’ve ever seen.”

Jason was the only man who’d ever seen past her skin to the real Meredith underneath. She’d never dreamed it would come to mean so much. Being here in his presence again, after all this time, had solidified why no other man did it for her.

But it had also brought home an ugly truth.

In Vegas, it had been okay to be clueless and spill all her uncertainty because Jason was at the same place. He’d grown up after coming home, like they’d planned. She hadn’t. And that seemed to have everything to do with why he was so different.

She wanted the Jason of two years ago. And this unexpected extra time together gave her the perfect opportunity to peel back the layers of this new version of the man she’d married to see if she could find him again.

* * *

By ten o’clock the next morning, Meredith wished for a mocha latte, a bubble bath and that she’d never heard of Hurst House. Allo, the only-one-name-required in-house designer she’d been assigned to assist, hated her. Allo hated everyone as best Meredith could tell.

Allo called for shears yet again—the third time he’d changed his mind about whether he wanted chalk or shears—so Meredith trotted obediently to the table where all of Allo’s tools had to be carefully stored when not in use. Even if he planned to use them in the next five minutes.

She placed the shears in Allo’s outstretched hand and waited for the next round of barked instructions.

“Non, non, non.” Allo threw the shears on the floor and kicked them across the beautiful blond hardwood. “I said pins. Take the cotton out of your head and pay attention.”

“Pins. Coming right up,” she muttered and cursed under her breath as she crossed to the cabinet yet again.

Tomorrow she’d wear flats. And bring cyanide to flavor Allo’s chai tea. Not really, but she’d fantasized about it more than once after being told to remake the beverage four times.

Who was Meredith to question the genius of Allo, who had single-handedly launched Hurst House into the stratosphere with his line of ready-to-wear evening gowns? She’d even been a little tongue-tied when she’d first met him and secretly hoped she might absorb some of that genius. She still might. If she didn’t kill him first.

None of Allo’s assistants lasted longer than two months, according to the gossip she’d overheard in Human Resources that morning.

No wonder Bettina’s phone call had netted Meredith a job so fast.

Now all she had to do was figure out how to casually run into Avery, pump her for secret information about her plans to thwart Jason’s bid for CEO and then take over the world. Easy as pie.

At lunchtime, Meredith wearily contemplated the wilted salad and unidentifiable meat on offer in the building’s cafeteria. The shopping trip to Barneys had been a wasted effort since everyone employed at Hurst House wore the Hurst House label, a small fact Jason could have mentioned. So her credit card was maxed out unnecessarily—though the off-the-shoulder Alexander Wang dress she’d found buried in the sale rack was amazing and she loved it. But having an amazing dress meant a low-cost and tasteless lunch.

All in the name of couture espionage.

“I wouldn’t recommend the Salisbury steak.”

Meredith glanced behind her and recognized Janelle, the girl from Human Resources who had performed Meredith’s employee orientation. “Is that what it is? I wondered.”

Janelle laughed. “They like to keep us guessing.”

It was unusual to get such a friendly reception from another woman, and Meredith needed all the friends she could get if she hoped to score any information useful to Jason’s cause. “What would you recommend for someone on a budget?”

Janelle pointed to the unrecognizable off-white lumps behind the Salisbury steak. “Chicken. Can’t go wrong with that. It doesn’t taste like anything in the first place, so it’s hard to ruin it.”

“Point taken.” Meredith collected her lunch plate and inclined her head toward Janelle. “Any other first-day advice? I mean besides don’t take a job working for Allo. That one I figured out on my own.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” With a sympathetic smile, Janelle jerked her head in the direction of the dining room. “We made a pact in HR to do what we can to convince you to stay. Allo generates more paperwork for us than the tax department. Sit with me and I’ll give you the scoop.”

Oddly grateful for the support, Meredith followed Janelle to an unoccupied table as the other woman chatted about how to get around Allo’s strident personality, how to win points and anything else she deemed worthwhile.

It wasn’t until lunch was nearly over that Meredith got the break she’d been waiting for.

Janelle folded her napkin and glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to get back. I’ll see you at the Garment Center gala tonight, right?”

“I don’t know. What is it?”

“Samantha was supposed to invite you. I told her to send you an email with the details.” Janelle looked annoyed. “Hurst House is a supporter of Save the Garment Center and there’s a fund-raiser tonight. Avery Lynhurst—oh, she’s the vice president of Marketing, if you haven’t met her yet—is running the event and she wants all employees there. It makes her look good.”

What better place to get in front of Jason’s sister than a social event? And as a brand-new Hurst House employee, all the more reason to make sure she met everyone in attendance.

And it was a fashion-industry event that she got to attend. The thought made her downright cheerful.

“I’ll be there,” Meredith pledged and watched Janelle as she left the lunchroom.

As soon as Janelle was out of sight, she called Jason, who answered on the first ring.

“You have news, I trust?” he asked shortly, and the undercurrent said she was interrupting him, so she better make it good.

“There’s an event tonight,” she murmured softly in case anyone was listening in. “A Garment Center thing. Avery’s going to be there, so I am, too. It’s an opportunity to chat with her without raising any alarms.”

“Excellent.” Jason’s voice warmed. “I’d forgotten about the gala, but you’re right, it’s perfect.”

“There’s one problem. I don’t have anything to wear.”

“That’s the exact opposite of a problem,” he said drily. “It so happens I know a couple of people in the evening-wear business. I’ll swing by your hotel at six.”

“You don’t know what size I wear.”

“Sweetheart, I’m a Lynhurst and that’s plain insulting. Trust me,” he advised with a chuckle. “See you tonight.”

And that promise alone got her through the afternoon with Allo, the master of terror.

By tonight, she’d be one step closer to getting Jason’s signature on the divorce papers. Then she could go back to Houston and get started on the rest of her grown-up life.

That had always been the plan. It should still be the plan. But she feared she’d spend the rest of her life dreaming of the man she’d divorced and continue to date lackluster men who couldn’t begin to compare.

How had getting a man’s signature on a piece of paper complicated everything so much?

Four

Jason pounded on the door of Meredith’s hotel room for the fourth time and juggled the zipped garment bags. Again. When had he become an errand boy for a woman who’d probably never owned a clock in her life?

Enough was enough. He’d said six. It was six-oh-seven and Meredith had given him a key. And all the clothes he’d brought were heavy. If he didn’t let himself in, they’d be late to the gala, and it would be more difficult to enter separately, keeping up the ruse that they didn’t know each other.

But what if she was in the shower or blow-drying her hair in a little satin robe? One or the other was the most likely reason she hadn’t heard his many knocks.

That decided it.

It would serve her right to gain an audience if she was naked in the bathroom. A guy could hope.

Bobbling the garment bags until his fingers closed around the card key in his pocket, he cleared the threshold and dumped his cargo on the bed. His wife strolled from the bathroom at the same moment, clad in nothing but a skimpy towel, revealing miles and miles of legs and toned arms.

All that bare skin seared his retinas. The full force of her slammed into the backs of his knees, weakening them dangerously. It was one thing to barge into a hotel room on the possible assumption the female occupant might be undressed; it was another to get his wish.

His tongue went numb and every drop of blood in his body drained into the instant bulge in his pants.

How could he have walked away from that in Vegas? He couldn’t tear his gaze from her and a half whimper, half growl crawled out of his throat before he could stop it.

She didn’t even have the grace to look startled or embarrassed.

“Hey, you,” she called and pulled some frothy concoction of lace from her suitcase without censor, like men appeared in her bedroom unannounced on a regular basis.

Maybe they did. He frowned. Why did that thought make the back of his throat feel as if it was on fire?

“Uh, hey.” He cleared his throat as she slid a foot into the sexy panties.

Instantly, he whirled to face the window. Apparently she intended to get dressed as if he wasn’t even here. And what had he expected when he’d cavalierly charged into her room?

“Surely you’re not shy all of a sudden. You’ve seen everything I’ve got and then some.”

He could hear the smile in her voice. “It’s the ‘and then some’ that’s the problem,” he muttered.

This was ridiculous. The thought of his wife with another man made him want to claw the paint off the walls, yet she wasn’t really his wife and they were not going to repeat the craziness of the first round of their relationship. They had no relationship. And that’s how it was going to stay.

She laughed. “You’re wearing a tux. Are you going, too?”

“Yeah. You don’t think I expect you to do this all on your own, do you?”

Of course, the plan to accompany her had formed well before she’d reminded him what happened when they spent more than five seconds in a room together. Abrupt loss of focus. Instant desire to do nothing more than spend several hours in bed, with Meredith’s soft laugh and softer skin against his.

The woman turned him stupid instantly.

“What, you don’t trust me?” she asked coquettishly. “I’m dressed. You can stop pretending to have some misguided sense of modesty.”

“I’m not pretending. Just because we’re married doesn’t mean I should get a free show.”

He turned to face the interior of the room and got an eyeful of Meredith’s idea of dressed—a bra-and-panty set skimpy enough that it should be illegal. God, she was going to kill him.

The freaking bath towel had covered more flesh. Her smile said she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

“Honey, you can fantasize about keeping this platonic to your heart’s content. Just don’t hold it against me if I give you something else to fantasize about.” She raised her eyebrows suggestively. “What did you bring me?”

A hard-on the size of a subway train, apparently. “Clothes. I don’t remember what.”

She huffed out a sigh. “I’ll check it out myself, then.”

This heightened sense of awareness was merely the product of the close confines and distinct lack of sex over the past few months. Maybe if he could get a dress on her, and they got the hell out of this very private hotel room, he could breathe again.

Obviously, he had more in common with his hormonally driven father than Jason would have liked.

She unzipped the garment bag on top of the pile and squealed. “Oh, Jason.”

His name in her throaty come-and-get-me voice washed over him, tightening the already massive erection he probably wasn’t hiding as well as he hoped.

Who was he kidding? It didn’t matter if they left the hotel room; this evening was going to suck regardless because he couldn’t think about anything but sex where Meredith was concerned.

He put some steel in his spine and pulled the glittery dress from the hanger. “It’s one of Allo’s. Vogue revealed it in a spread last week, but it’s not in stores yet. I thought you might like to be the first woman to wear it out.”

“What?” Her mouth gaped. “Me? You want me to wear a just-revealed dress designed by Allo to a fashion-industry event?”

Undisguised glee radiated from her expression and he forgot what he’d been about to say. Why did pleasing her make him feel as if he’d been given a gift?

“Put it on,” he said, his voice husky and foreign. He cleared his throat. “I want to see it on you.”

She complied, sliding her lithe legs through the opening at the top and gathering it into place against her torso. Then she presented her back, lifted her dark fall of gorgeous hair away and called over her shoulder, “Zip me up?”

Since his fingers were already straining for the zipper before she’d finished speaking, it seemed the answer was yes. He crossed to her and her heat reached out to engulf him. Slowly, he skated the zipper up its track, following the line of her bare flesh above it with his gaze.

Wrong way, his brain screamed. Unzip! Unzip!

He resisted. Barely. But his fingers wouldn’t let go of the zipper pull, even though the dress was as zipped as it could be. Meredith’s exotic perfume wrapped around him and somehow, his nose was nearly buried in her still-damp hair. It smelled like green apple. He sucked in a breath and the combination of scents and the essence of her wove through his senses.