Fiance by Friday (4 page)

Once his soda arrived, and the waiter walked away, Gwen started asking questions. “Tell me, Michael…should I call you Michael?”

“Let’s stick with Mike for today. For some reason my fans don’t think of me as a Mike.”

Gwen smiled and continued. “What do you know about Alliance, Mike?”

“I know you have the ability to find a companion for my needs. My temporary needs.”

“You make us sound like a call service.”

Michael smiled, and shook his head. “That won’t be one of my needs.”

Ahh, yes. The confirmation she needed of his sexual orientation. But just in case she was mistaken, she prodded him one last time. “I’m told you can have any
woman
you want. Why come to us?”

Michael leaned forward and peered over the top of his sunglasses. “I can have any
woman
I want. I’m coming to you because although I don’t want one, I need one.”

“I see.”

He slid his glasses up on his nose and kicked back in his chair. “I’m an actor, Miss Harrison. I pretend to be something I’m not every day of my life. My wife will be required to do the same.”

“That’s understood. All my clients understand the rules.”

“But mine will have to do it in front of the public eye. She will have to be as skilled as I am in convincing people we’re happily married and that ruse must not fall until after the divorce.”

Gwen noticed the waiter approaching and shifted their conversation to the weather. Once the food was on the table, she continued. “How long will you require a wife?”

“A year…maybe slightly longer. My filming schedule is massive over the next eighteen months, which will take me out of the country quite a bit.”

“All of which will make it easier for you and your wife to live a life apart from each other.”

“Yes, but when together, we need to be the perfect couple. She will be kissed in public, held in front of the cameras, and passed off as my lover.”

The entire time they talked, Gwen thought of Karen. How apt she was for this role. Karen could have been an actress if she were so inclined. Her liberal views on sexuality and ability to get along with kids from the street just as equally as the political elite made her the perfect choice for Michael.

“Why are you doing this?”

“I have my reasons,” he said. “Millions of them. My publicist won’t even be privy to what I’m doing. Only you and your client will know the truth.”

Gwen sat forward and picked at some of the food. She took the time to explain the contract he’d have to sign, and the payment schedule they would set up. “I have papers I need you to fill out. I will probe into your life, Mike. And I will find out things
about you you’ll probably not wish me to know.” Gwen thought of Samantha, of how easily she told prospective clients that their lives were a book for her to read and she never skimmed the pages.

“You’ll only find what I wish you to find,” he told her, his smile cocky.

It was her turn to lower her sunglasses and force his gaze to hers. “By the time I’m done, I’ll learn the name of your first lover. Some of our clients have bigger secrets than yours to keep. If you’re willing to open wide, I’m happy to help.”

“The media can’t find out that information. What makes you think you will?”

“The media wants a story. I want to protect my clients and make certain I’m not setting someone up for abuse. My goals are more personal, Mike.” She pushed her glasses back up and let him ponder her words.

“I like you, Gwen. Are you married?”

Gwen tilted her head back and laughed. “No, and no thank you.” Samantha had met her brother when she was hired to set him up with another woman to marry. But Blake had never met any other woman, and the two of them were nearing their third anniversary. She was not Samantha and nothing like her brother.

“Go ahead and look,” he told her. “It will be refreshing to have someone to talk to who knows all my secrets.”

“Your wife will know them, too.”

“I would assume so. How soon will I be hearing from you?” he asked.

“I already have a woman in mind.”

“Trustworthy?”

“All of our clients are that. This one in particular might be the only one who wouldn’t be…what do you call it,
starstruck
? With you. Your celebrity status might be news to me but not with any others in our database.”

“I understand that.”

“If the woman I have in mind agrees to meet with you, how soon can we set that up? And how quickly do you want to marry?”

“This is Hollywood. Everything, and I do mean everything, is carefully choreographed. I’d want a ‘chance’ meeting, a slow burn of a courtship, and then an undeniable attraction and undying love.” As Michael explained his needs, his voice lowered an octave and the charm Hollywood paid dearly for swept up her spine.

Too bad he’s gay.

“So one month…tops?” she asked with a grin.

“Yeah, that should work. I’ll time it as I’m finishing filming in New York. Do you think we can work within that time frame?”

As long as Karen agreed.

“Not a problem.”

Chapter Three

The sound of the shutter clicked as the camera captured image after image of the two leaving the restaurant. The man kissed the woman on the cheek and they went their separate ways.

From where he sat, he saw the make and model of the man’s car, snapped a picture of the license plate, and swung his lens to the woman. She removed her sunglasses while searching in her purse. She glanced around, as if aware someone watched.

“I’m watching,” he whispered to himself. “Get used to me.”

He lowered his camera as the man sped by, oblivious.

And when the woman pulled away…he popped a piece of candy into his mouth and followed.

Gwen dialed into the long distance call and waited through the double rings. After a quick cordial conversation with Tamara, the housekeeper at her brother’s estate, Gwen was put on hold while she went to find Samantha.

“Hello?”

“Oh, it’s so good to hear your voice. How is Albany?”

“Wet,” Samantha said, laughing. “How is Tarzana?”

“Hot and dry.”

“How is everything there? How’s Karen?”

“She’s great. In fact, she’s part of the reason I called. I need a background check on a prospective husband for her. Have you heard of a Michael Wolfe?”

“The actor?”

Why was it everyone knew the man but her? “Oh, good, you do know him.”

Samantha no longer took care of the daily activities of Alliance since her marriage, but she knew the people to contact for background checks. The higher the profile, the harder it was to find anything of substance. If there was any dirt to find, she’d find it.

“Everyone knows him, Gwen.”

“So Karen has told me. Do you have time to look?”

Samantha laughed. “You’ve lived here, you know I have nothing but time. There’s more staff on this estate than there are people on your block. If I leave a towel on the bathroom floor it’s picked up before I get out of the shower.”

Gwen remembered. Domestic help filled the halls of the home of a rich duke. And although she wasn’t much of a cook, she wouldn’t take three decent meals a day in return for privacy again anytime soon. Gwen glanced up at the camera she knew was hidden in the corner of the room.

Almost private.

“So what does this have to do with Karen?”

“She’s a suitable match. He needs someone attractive enough to convince his fans that he’s found the right match. If he’s as sought after as everyone tells me, he could have anyone.”

“He could,” Samantha told her.

“Karen’s beautiful. They’ll make a very handsome couple. Karen isn’t rattled by his celebrity status. I doubt there are many women in our database we can say the same about.”

“I agree.”

Gwen kept listing Karen’s attributes. “Her closest friends are you, Eliza, and myself. If she needs to bend our ear about her marriage we can be there for her without her slipping to someone talking with the media. She understands the stakes better than most. She only has to convince the kids at the Boys and Girls Club that she’s helplessly in love.”

“She might be the perfect match,” Samantha agreed. “That is, if everything checks out.”

“Oh, I think so. They’d get along very well.”

“She hasn’t met him yet?”

“No. I’ll wait until you’re done before introducing them. How long do you think you’ll be?”

“Give me forty-eight hours. Michael Wolfe. How exciting. You know what that means if this all works out, right?”

Gwen blew out a breath, anticipating Samantha’s reference to what was coming next. “It means I’ll finally get some privacy around here.” Gwen loved sharing the home with another woman her age, but the last thing she wanted was for anyone in the family to feel sorry for her. They all knew she’d never lived alone.

“You don’t fool me, Gwen.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Oh, would you look at the time? I have a few more phone calls to make. Do be a dear and give my brother a kiss from me, will you?”

“Leave the acting to Michael. You suck at it.”

Gwen chuckled, sent her love, and hung up.

“Hey, Gwen?” Karen called from the back of the house.

Gwen followed Karen’s voice and found her staring out the kitchen window.

“What do you make of that?” Karen pointed in the backyard, beyond their fence. A crane on the street behind them was hoisting a large wooden box over the edge of the house.

“I’ve no idea.”

“I know the old owners were foreclosed on. The ‘for sale’ sign went down a couple of weeks ago. I wonder what the new owners are doing.”

Gwen opened the back door. The sound of a dozen male voices speaking in a minimum of two languages filled the kitchen. Gwen walked through the back door and peered over the fence to the neighbors’ house. The wooden box hung on a large cable that tilted close to the eaves of the house. She held her breath when someone from the other side of the fence shouted for whoever operated the crane to stop. Karen moved to Gwen’s side and stepped up onto a lawn chair to get a better look.

“Do you see anything?”

Their small backyard was fenced with a combination of cinder blocks and wood. The fence that separated the two properties stood no more than five feet tall. A few trees helped separate the space, but no matter how you looked at it, the backyard privacy was nonexistent.

“I think it’s a hot tub.”

The wooden box swung in midair, the hydraulic hum of the machine holding it hiccupped, and the tub jolted about an inch closer to the house.

“I hope it doesn’t fall into the roof,” Karen said.

“I’m guessing that’s what everyone over there is worried about, too.”

Neither of them could stop watching the swinging box until the crane set it safely on the ground.

“What are we doing down here? Your room is the perfect place to watch,” Karen said.

Gwen moved back into the house. “Suit yourself.” Watching the neighbors, especially colorful ones, was a nice source of entertainment, but Gwen hadn’t seen any men in their neighbors’ yard worth gawking over.

After a short time spying, Karen returned to their joint office and sat at her desk. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

Gwen was scanning the entertainment section of an online magazine, searching for information on her newest client. “No, what’s that?”

“Mrs. Sweeny is going to smell up the block.”

Gwen pinched her eyes shut. Their neighbor, Mrs. Sweeny, greeted all neighbors and newlyweds with a batch of her completely unpalatable pasta and clam sauce. The smell alone would make the hungriest dog sprint in the opposite direction. Even the cats.

“We’ll be sure and close the house up tight and keep the air running as soon as we scent the first boiling noodle.”

“If all she did was boil noodles, no one would complain.”

“True.” Gwen noticed a picture of Michael on the arm of another actress. Each time she found him he was with someone new. “I spoke with Samantha. She’s checking out Michael’s background.”

Karen swiveled in her chair, giving Gwen her full attention.

“I somehow doubt she’d find much of anything we don’t already know about the man.”