Part 1 (1/2)
Heated Rush.
by Leslie Kelly.
1.
GIVEN THE CHOICE between sticking flaming skewers up her nose and attending her own parents' thirty-fifth anniversary party without a date, Annie Davis would, without hesitation, reach for the lighter fluid and a match. Instead, she was reaching for her checkbook. Wondering just how far she could go-how much she could spend-to ensure she avoided a fate worse than burned nostrils. between sticking flaming skewers up her nose and attending her own parents' thirty-fifth anniversary party without a date, Annie Davis would, without hesitation, reach for the lighter fluid and a match. Instead, she was reaching for her checkbook. Wondering just how far she could go-how much she could spend-to ensure she avoided a fate worse than burned nostrils.
”Twenty-five hundred, that's all I can swing,” she murmured, reminding both herself, and her friend Tara, who sat beside her at an empty table near the back of the hotel ballroom. Twenty-five hundred was about as much as she could stretch it and still make her bills, as well as eat eat next month. next month.
Tara, who occasionally helped out at Baby Daze, Annie's successful day care center, had come only to this charity bachelor auction for moral support. Her aspiring actress's checkbook wouldn't allow room for a guy auctioned off in a Salvation Army parking lot, much less one at Chicago's glamorous Inter-Continental Hotel.
If she were honest, Annie's couldn't bear the strain, either, and her savings account was strictly for emergencies only. Sheer desperation had driven her here tonight. Desperation caused by the thought of a weekend back home-sans a guy-being pitied and clucked over by all the women in her family, teased by all the men, especially her brothers, and set up by everyone else in her small hometown. Not to mention answering the inevitable questions about why she was alone when her entire family knew she'd been dating a nice, handsome man for the past several weeks.
Looking into her parents faces and admitting that nice, handsome man she'd been seeing had been a married jerk? She'd sooner add raw meat to those flaming skewers and call herself s.h.i.+sh kebab. Wiping out her checking account seemed a small price to pay to avoid the agony. Maybe the savings, too Maybe the savings, too.
No. Not a chance. Not unless Johnny Depp and Josh Duhamel both appeared on that stage, offering a weekend of pure carnal exploitation to the high bidder.
”n.o.body has gone for less than three thousand so far,” Tara reminded her. The pet.i.te brunette, usually bubbly and sa.s.sy, sounded uncharacteristically pessimistic. ”Not even the wimpy-looking blond dude who made a complete dork of himself doing that pretend striptease.”
Annie cringed, wis.h.i.+ng she had a bar of soap to wash away the mental image of the pale twenty-something doing a white-men-can't-dance b.u.mp-and-grind that had women near the front pretending to swoon. Ick. Bringing someone like that that home to meet her family? She'd probably do better picking up a homeless person who wanted to make a few bucks for a weekend holiday in small-town U.S.A. home to meet her family? She'd probably do better picking up a homeless person who wanted to make a few bucks for a weekend holiday in small-town U.S.A.
Now there's an idea....
It would definitely be cheaper than this ritzy charity auction. ”Maybe I should just check out the park benches near the El. There's bound to be some guy who will do it for a whole lot less than twenty-five hundred.”
”You're desperate,” Tara reminded her. ”Not suicidal.”
”Is that any riskier than what I'm doing now? These guys are all strangers, too.”
The only difference was they were being paraded and hawked in front of a crowd of rich, half-past-tipsy-and-well-on-their-way-to-being-drunk women in a hotel ballroom. Yes, they were offering legitimate dates-romantic dinners, beach walks, afternoon cruises and picnics-to the highest bidder. But these men were still complete strangers to her. her.
Besides, she wasn't even certain she'd be able to talk any bachelor she won into going along with her visit-the-folks date rather than whatever he'd offered.
So why was she doing this again?
Tara seemed to read her mind. ”Desperate times call for...”
”An escort service?”
Tara snorted. ”Sure, show up at your folks' with a male hooker. That'll go over real well.”
”He wouldn't necessarily be skeevy. He could be nice, normal, handsome.”
”Stop channeling that movie The Wedding Date. The Wedding Date.” Tara smacked Annie on the arm with her rolled-up auction brochure. ”Professionals like that one don't really exist.”
”But I need a Plan B,” she mumbled, knowing time was running out. Maybe some decent-looking young man coming out of the unemployment office? Maybe some decent-looking young man coming out of the unemployment office? As long as he had all his teeth and four limbs, how would her family know he wasn't the one she'd been dating? As long as he had all his teeth and four limbs, how would her family know he wasn't the one she'd been dating?
Or even three limbs...he could be a n.o.ble accident survivor.
n.o.ble was good. Very good. Which was why she'd immediately scanned tonight's program looking for firefighter, rescue worker or policeman types. Her dad would totally be into that.
Her family didn't know what her ex-boyfriend, Blake, did for a living. They knew almost nothing about her relations.h.i.+p with him at all. Just that she'd been swept off her feet by someone tall, dark and handsome. They didn't know specifically specifically what he looked like. So she could introduce practically anybody and say he was the wonderful guy she'd been telling her family about. what he looked like. So she could introduce practically anybody and say he was the wonderful guy she'd been telling her family about.
Well, anybody except the real real wonderful guy, who'd turned out to be nothing more than a wonderful wonderful guy, who'd turned out to be nothing more than a wonderful liar. liar.
”Stop thinking about Blake the Snake.”
”Are you a mind reader?”
”No, you're just incredibly easy to figure out, Miss wholesome, blond, always-smiling girl-next-door. Whenever you think about him, your face scrunches up, your lips disappear into your mouth and you look like you want to hit somebody.” Shrugging and sipping from her beer, Tara added, ”Of course, you look that way when you fight with one of the uber-mamas, too, but none of them them are here.” are here.”
uber-mamas. That was the name she and Tara had come up with to describe some of Annie's more difficult clients. There weren't many, but a few ultraorganized, ambitious, arrogant mothers of the children cared for at Baby Daze seemed to view day care providers as overpaid dog walkers. As if there was no more to watching a toddler than changing his diaper.
”You weren't in love with him, you've admitted that much. And you hadn't even slept with him.”
”Thank G.o.d.” Something had held her back, some intuition. She'd blessed that intuition when she'd found out her Divorced Mr. Wonderful was, despite his claims to the contrary, Married Mr. Cheating Pig.
”So forget him.”
”I have. Almost. I just have to get through this weekend and then I can pretend I never knew the man.”
”Tell me again why you can't just tell your family what happened? It's not like any of it was your fault.”
”You met my folks when they came to visit me last spring. Do you really really need to ask that question?” need to ask that question?”
Tara pursed her lips and slowly shook her head. She'd had a firsthand glimpse at Annie's life as the only daughter in an overprotective, small-town family who wanted her back home, married, and pus.h.i.+ng out babies-now, if not six months ago. If they found out their ”little girl” had had a bad affair with a married man, they'd hara.s.s her endlessly to give up her dreams of big-city success and come home where she could meet a decent decent local boy and settle down. local boy and settle down.
”Forget I asked.”
”I'll get someone to play boyfriend, let them all see I'm blissfully happy and fine, then gradually stage a breakup over a series of weekly phone calls.”
Satisfied with at least that much of the plan, she reached for her drink, still musing over a possible Plan B. The man she showed up with didn't have to be really really handsome just because she'd told her family he was. Somebody much more plain and normal-looking than any of these s.e.xy bachelors being auctioned off to support a kid's Christmas charity would do. handsome just because she'd told her family he was. Somebody much more plain and normal-looking than any of these s.e.xy bachelors being auctioned off to support a kid's Christmas charity would do.
Beauty was, as she knew, in the eye of the beholder, and her family understood that. Just last year her brother, Jed, had convinced them all he'd met a future Miss America. His fiancee, however-a sweetheart whom the family adored-more resembled a Miss Pillsbury Dough Girl.
So maybe they'd think she'd simply exaggerated about how handsome her new guy was. Or that she was wildly in love, just as her brother had been. She didn't have have to bring home a guy who looked like...like... to bring home a guy who looked like...like...
Oh, my G.o.d, like him.
Once again, as it had been doing all night, her gaze drifted toward the table, and the auction program lying open upon it. About two minutes had elapsed since her previous covetous glance, which was the longest she'd gone all evening without at least a peek at Bachelor Number Twenty, described as a good-natured rescue worker. An all-out hero. Absolutely perfect. Absolutely perfect.
In addition, the man was an all-out hunk-a-holic.
As she stared at those midnight blue eyes, Annie's heart again played a quick game of hopscotch in her chest. Just as it had the moment she'd spotted him, this complete stranger, whose name she didn't know but whose face and body were as familiar as her last erotic dream.