The Borrowed Boyfriend (30 page)

“No. I’m just asking you to think about it,” Brad said. “Like a rational person.”

Hunter sputtered a laugh. “Nothing about this is rational!”

“Consider it a lease, a living arrangement.”

“You’re forgetting two very important points: A, I already own my condo and B, I like where I live.”

Brad jangled his keys and cranked the ignition. “You think you know a man,” he said, shaking his head.

“This is ludicrous, Brad. I can’t believe you agreed to it in the first place.”

“I already told you, she was desperate.”

“Um-hum.” Hunter pulled out his shoulder harness and clicked the seatbelt in place.

Brad sprang at him and latched onto his lapels. “Now
I’m
desperate. Can’t you see?”

Yep, he could pretty much read that in Brad’s eyes. He looked like a cross between a frightened rabbit and a chicken about to get its head lopped off. “I’m sorry, man. I feel for you, I really do. And Susan, but—”

Brad tightened his death grip on Hunter’s jacket. If he didn’t let go soon, he’d crease it and Hunter would have to get it dry cleaned. “You don’t know what it’s like. Loving someone like I do her.”

“Jill?” Hunter couldn’t help but say. He pressed his lips together to keep from smirking.

“No, jerk! Susan!” He released Hunter’s suit coat and pushed away.
 

It was almost scary seeing Brad this way. He appeared borderline crazed, like he might do something unpredictable. It occurred to Hunter that perhaps he should be the one driving.

“I apologize,” he said in a placating tone. “I didn’t mean to make light of it.”

“Yeah. Well, fine! You shouldn’t have!” Sweat beaded Brad’s forehead and he lifted the oil-checking rag on the console between them to dab it, leaving a black smear on his face. Maybe if Brad didn’t drive such an old clunker he wouldn’t have to check the oil twice a week. The sad truth was that Brad could use Jill’s money far more than Hunter needed it. Financially, Hunter was doing fine.
 

In a last-ditch effort, Brad shot him a pleading look. “I told you about her grandfather?”

“Heartbreaking,” Hunter deadpanned. “Though not my problem either.”

“She’s really under pressure, Hunter.” Brad paused and pursed his lips in thought. “But you can’t let on that you know that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s personal, might embarrass her.”

“More personal than getting married?”

“You’re not seeing the bigger picture!”

“Yes, I am, and it’s a nightmare.”

“Yeah, well, I’m living it.”

“Maybe you should have thought that out before.”

Brad glared at him angrily. “Jeez, guy, do you even have a soul?”

Hunter was fairly tough. Practically made of steel. But ouch, yeah, that pinched a little. Hunter stared at his best friend since the eighth grade. The guy whose skin he’d saved by not ratting Brad out to the headmaster after the two of them had shaving-creamed the chemistry lab. Brad was always coming up with mischievous plans and getting them into trouble. Correct that: Only Hunter got into trouble, because the administration routinely suspected him, the boisterous athlete. Timid Brad, with his keen focus on academics, had been beyond reproach. Hunter had not once squealed on Brad, and had always taken the heat. Even though every single lamebrain scheme had originally been Brad’s idea.

In return, Brad had stood by Hunter, year after year, through one woman-disaster after the next. While Brad still didn’t believe it, none of those breakups had been Hunter’s fault. He hadn’t left any of those women; they’d left
him
. The fact of the matter was that he did have a soul, and way down deep it was probably unlovable. It sure didn’t know how to love back. Not that his parents had set much of an example in that department. They’d shipped him off to boarding school at fourteen and had never come to visit. Not even on family day. While he was gregarious and confident on the outside, emotionally, Hunter had donned a suit of armor that was impossible for anyone to penetrate. How many upset females had accused him of that before slamming their way out the door? Far more than Hunter cared to count or remember. “I’m not marriage material,” he replied dryly. So many women had told Hunter that, and after a while he’d begun to believe it.

“That’s what makes this ideal,” Brad said. “You and Jill go in with your eyes open. Zero expectations.” He shook the envelope in the air between them. “Other than what’s written in here.”

Hunter gave a weighty sigh and snatched back the envelope. He hated Brad for putting him in this position nearly as much as he disliked seeing Brad on the verge of a breakdown. Brad was the closest thing he had to a brother. A baby brother. The sort who repeatedly got himself into trouble, then required Hunter’s help getting out of it. Jill Jamison, of all people. Of course it had to be her. “Okay, I’ll think about it,” he finally said. “But only for you.”

A few days later, Hunter adjusted his red-and-yellow-striped tie in the washroom mirror. It made him look authoritative, not stuffy. In any case, that’s what he hoped. He angled his head from side to side and set his jaw in a confident manner. “You’ve got this,” he told his rugged reflection. A flicker of doubt flashed in his dark brown eyes. He cleared his throat and tried again, speaking more surely. His voice resonated in a deep baritone as he gave himself a steady thumbs-up. “You’ve got this.”

A commode flushed and his coworker Fred Forester popped out of the bathroom stall behind him. “Got what? Catch something touching the toilet?”

Hunter startled, leaning forward to grip the edges of the basin. “Fred! Didn’t know anyone was in here.”

“Obviously.” Fred stood at the sink beside him, washing his hands. He addressed Hunter’s reflection in his mirror. “You’re up for the big promotion, I hear.”

“Word gets around.”

“Sure does,” Fred said smugly. Did Hunter imagine it, or was Fred appearing full of himself, like he knew something Hunter didn’t? Then again, that was just Fred. Always one-upping everyone in the office. He was a few years younger than Hunter, but others viewed him as twice as ambitious. That’s because Fred was very
obvious
in his aspirations, whereas Hunter tended to purposely underplay his.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much,” Hunter told him. “I’m sure your turn’s coming soon.”

Fred dried his hands with a paper towel, then tossed it into the wastebasket, straightening on his reed-thin frame. “No doubt,” he said flippantly. Then he turned and walked away, leaving Hunter with a sinking feeling. If Hunter was about to get good news, why did he sense the other shoe was about to drop?

Hunter’s boss, Maxwell Abrams, crossed his ankle over one knee and started making small circular motions in the air with his expensive Italian loafer. Rather than remaining behind his desk, he’d joined Hunter in his office’s sitting area. They now sat catty-corner in sleek leather chairs facing a low Lucite table. It held sketches of all kinds and mock-ups for new campaigns. Old man Abrams never stopped working, which was why he was rumored to need help. Word was that he sought an entrepreneurial partner to take under his wing and groom for taking over the business one day. Hunter hoped that man would be him. He’d worked hard and had landed some major accounts for the firm. Dollar for dollar, his efforts had certainly generated more revenue than Fred had brought in.

“You know I respect you as a worker,” Abrams said, his silvery hair catching glimmers of sunlight through the window.

“Yes, sir. I appreciate that.”

“You’ve got a keen eye where marketing is concerned, and that financial background of yours has only been a boon to the company.”

“Thank you. It’s a pleasure working here.”

Abrams met his eyes. “I believe you’ll go far someday.”

Hunter’s stomach clenched.
Someday? What about now?

“But I’m sure you’re aware,” Abrams went on, “that a very big deal is at stake.”

“Kaleidoscope Kids, yes, sir. I’m aware of it. Actually, I’ve been studying their prospectus, devising a plan—”

Abrams held up his hands. “I’ve got to explain this is a major account. Huge, Hunter. Landing it could completely change the financial face of this company, give us a whole new direction.”

Hunter angled toward him and set his elbows on his knees. “That’s why I’m determined to do everything I can to land it, sir. Just give me the word, and I’ll bring that puppy home.”

Abrams smiled wryly and shook his head. “That
puppy,
as you call it, is only interested in working with one kind of master.”

“I’m sorry, sir?”

Abrams pressed his broad palms together. “Kaleidoscope is about kids, Hunter.
Family
. They want someone who understands that, inside out, to design the campaign. Now, I know Fred Forester is a little younger than you…”

Fred Forester? No way!
He didn’t have half the experience Hunter did. Plus, he was more than a little bit of a jerk. “Fred, sir?” Hunter was embarrassed to hear his voice squeak.

Abrams looked him straight in the eye. “Fred’s married, and they like that. They want someone on their team who understands commitment…someone with the right frame of mind.

“Fred and Penny have been married five years. And now…” The loafer bobbed up and down. Yeah, here came the other shoe. “They’re expecting a baby.”

Hunter drew a breath. He had no idea Fred was about to become a dad. Hunter couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the child. More than that, he felt sorry for himself. Fred Forester being positioned as his boss? That wouldn’t just be uncomfortable for Hunter, it could prove disastrous for the whole office. While pretty much everyone got along with Hunter, nobody could stand Fred. What kind of supervisor would he make? Hunter couldn’t believe there wasn’t a way to turn this thing around. “Mr. Abrams, if you’ll just give me a chance. Maybe let me talk to the Kaleidoscope people myself—”

“I’m sorry, Hunter.” His look was sincere. “It’s already been decided. I talked to Fred this morning and he accepted.”

Of course he did, the snake! Hunter spoke frankly, because he didn’t see any reason not to. “I’m really sorry to hear that, sir, because I honestly feel I’m the best man for the job. The best ad man for Kaleidoscope and the best manager for this company. I’ve got great leadership skills. You’ve seen them in action.”

“Yes, and I admire that about you. Which is why I’m bringing you on board as Fred’s right-hand man. He’ll need someone with your talents to assist him.”

The situation was going from bad to unbearable. Work directly under Fred? Hunter would have to leave the company first. The thing was, Hunter
liked
Abrams Advertising, and he’d given it his all. In the past year, he’d built relationships here, with his clients and with the staff. He couldn’t just throw all that away. Nor could he stand the thought of Fred being in charge. He made one last desperate plea. “Is there nothing I can say to change your mind?”

Abrams gave a noncommittal laugh. “Only that you’re getting married.” He uncrossed his legs and stood. “But with a lone wolf like you, we both know that’s not going to happen any time soon.”

Hunter leapt to his feet, unable to stop the words that flew from his mouth. “Mr. Abrams!”

Max slowly turned his way.

“It already is!”

Abrams stared at Hunter agape. “Excuse me?”

Perspiration built at Hunter’s hairline and slicked the back of his neck.

“I’m getting married,” he reported evenly.

Max’s brow shot up. “That so? When?”

“Soon, sir. Very soon.”

Abrams sat back in his chair, apparently stunned by this turn of events. “And…who’s the lucky girl?”

Hunter sucked in a breath, then spilled it. “Jillian Jamison.”

“The relationship expert?” For some reason Abrams appeared amused. “But I thought she was marrying someone else. My wife, Diane, was just saying last Sunday she’d seen it in the—”

“
Was
,
sir. As in, past tense. Let’s just say it didn’t work out.”

Abrams was unable to mask the skepticism in his voice. “And Ms. Jamison decided to pencil you in? As a…replacement?”

“It’s a tad more involved than that. Jill and I have known each other since high school,” Hunter said. “This, um…attraction has been brewing under the surface for years.”

Abrams studied him curiously. “I see. And you love this girl?”

“Almost as much as I love myself.” Hunter called himself up short, realizing how awful that had sounded. “What I mean is—”

“I must say this comes as a surprise.” Abrams brought a hand to his chin and sat still for a moment. When he met Hunter’s eyes, he asked, “So you and your long-lost flame, Jillian Jamison, are determined to make this work? A full-fledged marriage?”

Hunter nodded numbly, not admitting he intended to make it work for just a year. Hey, many marriages only lasted that long. Why should his and Jill’s be any different? By the time their agreement concluded, Hunter would be well on his way to proving himself a valuable asset at Abrams, and Fred would be caught up with baby duty.

“Well, in that case… It appears there’s only one thing left for me to say.” Abrams shot to his feet and held out his hand. “Welcome to my personal team, Hunter. I can’t wait to see your ideas for Kaleidoscope Kids. If they’re half as good as I’ve got a hunch they’ll be, we’ll lock down that account in no time. By this time next year, I might even be calling you
partner.
”