From Fake to Forever (9 page)

Like last night hadn’t even happened?

Of course. Because in his mind, it was business as usual.

Two could play that game. In fact, she’d do herself a favor if she played the game his way and left her emotions out of it.

She texted him back:
With plenty of red pepper sauce.

Jason replied:
Be there in fifteen minutes.

She couldn’t stop a tiny tendril of hope that dinner might be some kind of apology. A way to say, “Hey, I was just kidding. You rocked me in Vegas and I couldn’t forget it even with brain damage.”

He made it in ten, and when he swept into her hotel room looking devastating in his grey custom-made Lyn Couture suit, with spiky hair in delicious disarray, her heart fell out of rhythm and she couldn’t breathe for a moment.

So much for leaving her emotions at the door.

“How was your day, dear?” she asked a touch more sarcastically than she probably should have, but her not-quite-a-husband had thrown her off balance.

He shot her a grimace. “We have a problem. Come eat and I’ll tell you about it.”

Oh.
Of course that was the reason for his appearance so soon after the disaster of last night. She tossed the laptop onto the bed.

Meredith took the take-out box from Jason’s hand and opened it. Pad Thai shrimp. It was her favorite, but far be it from her to read into the selection. There was no way Jason remembered that. Lots of people loved pad Thai. Jason had used his finely honed observation skills to make a good guess, that was all.

Listlessly, she picked at the food, washing down what little she could stomach with a beer Jason had retrieved from the minibar.

“What’s the problem?” she asked.

“Avery put the first part of what must be her plan in motion today.” Jason forked up a mouthful of his red curry beef and took his sweet time chewing. “Several reporters were tipped off to investigate potential labor violations against Lyn’s factory workers. The press ambushed Bettina as she was leaving the office today, shouting for comments about how she was running a sweatshop right here in Manhattan.”

Meredith scowled. “That’s ridiculous. I hope Bettina put them in their place.”

It wasn’t like she
really
knew it wasn’t true, but Jason was the chief operating officer and there was no way he’d abuse his factory workers. Nor would he let someone else force workers to endure difficult conditions.

Jason flashed a brief, grateful smile and sobered almost immediately. “I wish she had. But she’s not a spokesperson. Put her in a room with reams of fabric and she’s good for hours. Talking to the press, not so much. The whole thing upset her.”

“And you think Avery was behind this?”

“I’d put money on it.”

He dropped his fork and took a long pull from his beer, massaging the back of his neck as he swallowed. Tension put fine lines around his mouth and eyes, sullying his classically handsome face, and she could do without that.

Dropping her own fork, she stood and scooted around behind him to replace his hand with hers, kneading his taut neck muscles for him. He groaned appreciatively and his head tipped back.

“You don’t have to do that,” he murmured. “Don’t you dare stop.”

She laughed. “I wasn’t going to. Your muscles are like concrete. Relax for a minute.”

She wouldn’t have realized how tense he was if she hadn’t felt it with her own two hands. He’d been hiding it well, at least until these past couple of minutes.

Which of course led her down the path of wondering what else he was hiding under that gorgeous suit. He was a man of contrasts. Frustrating to be sure, but oh, so intriguing. She wanted to dig into his core in the worst way and expose all his secrets...like, why was he so resistant to being open and passionate as he’d been in Vegas? It wasn’t her—his body’s reaction anytime they got within two feet of each other gave her all the assurance she needed.

If only he’d bridge that gap and take what he so clearly wanted. What she’d so readily asked for. If only the heat between them could be allowed to explode, she’d show him he could be that man again in an instant.

She shook her head and chastised herself silently. Was she never going to learn? This was a business relationship only. Time to get back to that...

“Why would Avery do something so mean? Especially to her own mother.”

Jason’s head rested against her stomach and his eyes fluttered closed. It was oddly the most intimate moment they’d experienced, as if they were a normal couple helping each other decompress at the end of a long day. It snagged a tender place inside.

For an eternity, she thought he’d fallen into the moment, too, and didn’t hear her question.

“Bettina and Avery are like oil and water,” he finally said. “Mom says black, Avery says white. Honestly, they were happy to go off to their respective corners when Lynhurst Enterprises split.”

“Still.” Meredith couldn’t quite let go of Jason’s broad, strong shoulders and he didn’t seem to be in a hurry for her to stop touching him, so she kept up the pressure. “What’s a tip-off that turns out to be a lie going to accomplish?”

A ghost of a smile lifted his lips briefly. “It’s twofold. Keeps me busy combating the negative press so I’m distracted. And she knows they’re not going to uncover anything, but the implications are enough to put Lyn in a bad light. So when she throws in her bid for CEO, she can play up how new management will smooth everything over. Out with the old and in with the new.”

“That’s...”
Kind of brilliant.
But Meredith didn’t dare say it out loud.

“Diabolical and perfect. Plus it upset Mom and that was a great side benefit in Avery’s mind.”

“But this is only the first strike, right? She’ll have more up her sleeve.”

The dread Meredith’s mother’s article had first induced came flooding back. Ferretting out Avery’s plans—and hopefully nipping them in the bud—was supposed to be Meredith’s job. Fat lot of good she was doing.

“Oh, yeah. This is only the beginning. Now you see why I need you so badly.” His voice had turned husky as his muscles relaxed.

She tried to ignore the way the sound tore through her. For a man who wasn’t supposed to be her forever, he surely shouldn’t cause such strong, involuntary reactions. Especially since he hadn’t meant that he needed her the way she wished he had. And she was falling down on the thing he
did
need her for.

“I’m sorry, Jason. This sucks.”

She had to do better. Maybe if she succeeded, it would lead to that reconnection she’d been dreaming of.

That thought alone spurred her brain into action, and a half-formed plan began spilling from her mouth. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Get into a meeting with your marketing department and start brainstorming everything Lyn’s done well since the split and then cross-reference that with anything, no matter how small, that Hurst House has stumbled over.”

And the subsequent news blast would be titled: Hurst House—Where Is It Now?

Thanks for the article, Mom.
Meredith smiled for the first time since last night.

“I’m listening. Then what?”

Meredith massaged his shoulders absently as she worked it over in her mind.

“We’re going to bury Hurst House with facts about how fantastic Lyn has done since the split and, by default, how poorly Hurst has fared. We’ll pretend the sweatshop witch hunt doesn’t exist and by contrast, your rebuttal will come off as a well-written piece of journalism. You and Bettina will be featured as doing a great job, and as a nice side benefit, Avery’s going to come out of this looking stupid and petty.”

Jason’s eyes flew open and he peered up at her. “Whoa. Are you sure you’re not a Lynhurst? That’s pure genius. It’s short only an evil cackle.”

Warmth filled her cheeks. Meredith could talk dirty—and then follow through—with the best of them and never think twice about it, yet a
compliment
made her blush? What was the world coming to? “Well, I’ll throw the evil cackle in for free.”

Jason’s appreciative laugh sent the surge of warmth much lower.

“A total bargain.” The smile slipped off his face. “Hey. It didn’t escape my notice that you said ‘we.’ You also didn’t correct me when I barged in and said we have a problem. You could have easily told me it was
my
problem. Thanks.”

Their gazes fused and electricity rippled the atmosphere.

There you are.
Wonderment filled her.
This
was the open, sensitive man she’d left behind in Vegas. Her breath caught. He hadn’t vanished and she didn’t misremember. Stupid tears of relief pricked at her eyelids and she blinked them away before he noticed.

“Yeah, yeah,” she murmured. “We’re on the same team. Don’t forget it.”

“I won’t.” He reached up and grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips for a quick kiss. “I wish you could be in the meeting with Marketing. I’d love your insight.”

She yanked her tingling hand away from his lips before she forgot about caution and jumped him in hopes of keeping that conduit to his soul open. “Take good notes. Then come back tomorrow night with more takeout and we’ll talk.”

He grinned. “I’ve never met a woman who likes to eat as much as you do. It’s sexy.”

“Shut up and finish your dinner. Serves you right for flirting with me that it’s cold,” she grumbled and slid into her own chair to finish her own cold dinner.

But it tasted a lot better than it had when it was hot. Because she’d finally seen a glimpse of what she’d hoped for—the man she’d never forgotten.

Now that she’d finally established he was still in there somewhere, how did she keep him around?

Six

U
nless the building caved in, Jason’s morning couldn’t get much worse.

The labor allegations, while complete bunk, grew legs and promised to keep Lyn’s entire legal department hopping for the foreseeable future. The fact that the allegations were false didn’t seem to matter to Lyn’s factory workers, who must have viewed the new development as an opportunity to bring a few choice grievances to upper management. Jason had been funneling complaints to appropriate departments for hours.

Then, his assistant gave her two-week notice. It always sucked to lose critical staff, but she ran his life. He would have doubled her salary if it would have made a difference, but she was marrying her fiancé and moving to Germany.

The meeting with Marketing was nothing short of grueling, but three hours of brainstorming later, the team had an actionable plan. Meredith’s idea had put smiles on the faces of his executive staff for the first time today and the press release was nothing short of brilliant.

It was chock-full of shiny highlights about Lyn’s progressive fashion lines, one of which was favored by a couple of hot young actresses. Sadly—the release went on to point out—this success sharply contrasted with Hurst’s lone lowlight of an evening-wear line that had failed to garner much interest outside of prom shoppers. All of which was true, but the release intentionally left out that the average price tag of a prom dress was fifteen hundred dollars, which contributed greatly to Hurst’s bottom line.

A few more carefully selected Lyn Couture hits rounded out the piece, commenting carefully about how the two companies had fared since the split, and the last line contained a pointed message about Lyn’s commitment to its workers, particularly those in the Manhattan factory.

Meredith had hit this one out of the park.

By five o’clock, Jason had been at work for over ten hours and fog took over his brain. It was the only reason he couldn’t seem to focus on anything except how good Meredith’s hands had felt on his tense shoulders last night. Or at least fatigue was his excuse and he was sticking to it.

It had been a nice evening. Casual and expectation free, as it should be. They were basically just friends who’d had a brief affair in the past.

He could get some takeout and drop by her hotel. She’d mentioned as much, so he had the perfect excuse. They could discuss the press release and eat. He didn’t have to admit he’d thought about her all day. Or that in unguarded moments, the vivid memories of her body and the way she responded to his touch sneaked into his mind, lacing it with sensual images better suited for a triple-X flick than a boardroom.

Definitely not the thoughts of a friend.

By six, he figured it was late enough that it wouldn’t seem as if he was so eager to see her, he’d left work early. He wasn’t getting any work done anyway. Traffic wasn’t too bad and he arrived at Meredith’s hotel quickly.

Meredith swung open the door wearing a button-down oxford with a feminine cut and a pencil skirt. It should have made her look like a schoolteacher but she’d unbuttoned the shirt to the middle of her breasts, allowing the rounded globes to peek out, and the skirt’s front-and-center split rose all the way to the juncture of her thighs. One wrong move and she’d show her secrets to the world.

He swallowed as the hard-on he’d been fighting all day raged to life again. The outfit hadn’t looked like that on the runway model who’d last worn it at Fashion Week.

Finally his gaze wandered up to Meredith’s face, but it was far too late to pretend he hadn’t been checking her out. He couldn’t have hidden the tenting going on down south, either.

She arched a brow. “You seem to be missing a couple of take-out boxes.”

He cursed and fisted his empty hands. “I, uh...forgot.”

Her wicked smile punched him in the groin. “Got something else on your mind, then?”

“What makes you say that?” His palms started to sweat. Could she read his thoughts now?

“Oh, I don’t know. Because you’re here. At my hotel. With no dinner. Kind of made me think you had an interest in an altogether different activity than eating.”

Groaning, he scrambled for a response that did not include dipping his tongue into the crevice of her breasts, sliding a hand up the creamy thigh visible beyond the slit of her skirt or silencing her smart mouth with a thorough kiss, which would leave her too breathless to bait him.