One Week With The Best Man

A flicker of irritation crossed her face, blushing her cheeks an attractive pink. It might have just been the tequila kicking in. He’d bet her hands weren’t cold any longer. He fought the urge to find a reason to touch her again.

“Apparently, ten grand for my time and another two grand to make me more presentable.”

Julian looked over his date of the next few days and frowned. It shouldn’t take two thousand to make her presentable, and he hoped Ross hadn’t been rude enough to say such a thing. Ross was usually brutally honest, with a set of unrealistic Hollywood ideals. Whereas Gretchen wasn’t the kind of woman Julian was normally seen with in LA, she wasn’t unattractive. Her skin was creamy and flawless, her lips full and pink. Her eyelashes were so long and thick, he thought they might be fake, but she didn’t strike him as that type.

He supposed anyone could use a haircut and a manicure. She could take the rest of the money and buy clothes. Tonight she was dressed as though she’d come straight from her work at the wedding chapel, wearing a plain green shirt and khakis with a brown cardigan, a pair of loafers and argyle socks. Appropriate for winter in the South, he supposed, but not overly dressy. She looked nice. She actually reminded him a lot of his mother when she was younger and life hadn’t completely sucked away everything she had.

But instead of complimenting Gretchen the way he knew he should, he went the other direction. He felt himself being drawn in by her shy awkwardness, but Julian had no intention of getting chummy with this woman. She may not be a part of the Hollywood machine, but she’d use him just like everyone else. She was only here because she was being paid a ridiculous amount of money to do it.

“You should’ve held out for more. Ross would’ve paid twenty.”

Gretchen just shrugged as though the money didn’t mean much to her. He knew that couldn’t be true. Who would sign up for something like this if it wasn’t because they needed the money? He was a millionaire, and he still wouldn’t turn down a well-paying role. There was always something he could do with it. Even socking it away in the bank put it to good use.

He doubted that was the case for her, though. She certainly didn’t seem to have agreed to this because she was a fan. She was lacking that distinctly starry-eyed gaze he was used to seeing in women. The gaze that flickered over him was appreciative, but reserved. He sensed there was a lot going on in her mind that she wouldn’t share with him. He knew he shouldn’t care; she was just a fleeting part of his life this week, but he couldn’t help but wonder what was going on under that curly mop of hair.

“Well, now that we’ve established that I’ve been had cheaply, do we need to work out any details?”

Yes, Julian thought. It was better to stick to the logistics of the plan. “I came out a few days early to hang out with Murray before the wedding, so you’ve got some time to buy clothes and do whatever grooming women do. The first event for the wedding is Wednesday night. They’re holding a welcome barbecue out at Murray’s house. That will be our first official outing. Maybe we should get together here on Wednesday afternoon and spend some time on our story for anyone that asks.”

Gretchen nodded. “Okay. I’ll get the event schedule from Natalie, the wedding planner. Any special requests?”

Julian’s brows went up at her question. “Like what?”

She shrugged. “I’ve never done this before, but I thought you might have favorite colors for me to wear, or find acrylic nails to be a turnoff, that sort of thing.”

He’d never had a woman ask him something like that before. Despite how often people told him they were there for him, they rarely inquired or even cared what he might really want. He had to think about an answer for a moment. “I only have one request, really.”

“What’s that?”

“Please wear comfortable shoes,” Julian said. “I don’t know how many events I’ve sat through where the woman did nothing but complain about her expensive, fancy, painful shoes the whole night.”

Gretchen glanced down at her practical and comfortable-looking brown leather loafers. “I don’t think that will be a problem. Well, I’ll get going.” She got up from the couch and held out a card to him.

He accepted it, turning it over to find it was her business card. The design of it was very intricate but delicate, with a shiny ivory damask pattern over a flat white card. The text was in a blush pink, as was an edging of abstract roses, screaming wedding, but not cliché wedding.

“You can reach me at the chapel number during the day or my cell phone the rest of the time. If nothing comes up, I’ll see you Wednesday afternoon before the barbecue.”

Julian took her hand in his. It was warmer now, and this time, he noticed how soft her skin was against him. He swallowed hard as his palm tingled where their skin touched. His gaze met hers, and he watched her dark eyes widen in surprise for a moment before she pulled her hand away.

“Thanks for doing this, Gretchen,” he said, to cover his surprising physical response to her touch. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

She nodded and bit at her lip as she made her way to the door. After she slipped out, he bolted the lock and turned back to face his room. It suddenly felt more empty and cold than it had when she was here with him.

Perhaps this setup wouldn’t be as bad as he thought.

Two

Gretchen felt as if she’d just lived through that makeover montage from the movie Miss Congeniality, although it was more painful than funny. Amelia had scheduled her appointments at the day spa they contracted with for bridal sessions, and they were happy to fit in Gretchen for a full day of beauty.

She was expecting a hair trim and some nail polish. Maybe a facial. Gretchen wasn’t a movie star, but she didn’t think she needed that much work.

Instead, she’d had nearly every hair on her body ripped out. The hair that was left was cut, highlighted and blown into a bouncy but straight bob. Her skin was buffed and polished, her clogged pores “extracted,” and then she was wrapped like a mummy to remove toxins, reduce cellulite and squeeze out some water weight. They finished her off with a coat of spray tan to chase away the pastiness. She got a pedicure and solar nails in a classic pink-and-white French manicure that she couldn’t chip. They even bleached her teeth.

Thankfully Gretchen didn’t have much of an ego, or it would’ve been decimated. It had taken about seven hours so far, but she thought she might—might—be done. She was wrapped in a fluffy robe in the serenity room. Every time someone came through, they took her into another room and exposed her to another treatment, but she couldn’t come up with anything else they could possibly do to her.

This time, when the door opened, it was Amelia. If Gretchen’s lady parts weren’t still tender, she’d leap up and beat her friend with an aromatherapy pillow for putting her through all this. Instead, she sipped her cucumber-infused mineral water and glared at her.

“Don’t you look refreshed!” Amelia said.

“Refreshed?” Gretchen just shook her head. “That’s exactly the look I was going for after seven hours of beauty rituals. Julian Cooper’s new woman looks so well rested!”

“Quit it, you look great.”

Gretchen doubted that. There were improvements, but “great” took it a little far. “I should, after all this,” she joked. “If this is what the women in Hollywood go through all the time, I’m glad I live way out here in Nashville.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Amelia said in a chiding tone. “I’ve had every single treatment that you had today. But now is the fun part!”

“Lunch?” Gretchen perked up.

Amelia placed a thoughtful hand on her round belly. “No, shopping. They were supposed to feed you lunch as part of the package.”

“Yeah, they did. Sort of.” The green salad with citrus vinaigrette and berries for dessert hadn’t really made a dent in her appetite.

“If you promise not to give me grief while we’re shopping, I’ll take you out for a nice dinner.”

“I want pretzel bites, too,” Gretchen countered. “Take it out of my makeover money.”

Amelia smiled. “Fair enough. Get dressed and we’ll go buy you some clothes and makeup.”

“I have makeup,” Gretchen complained as she got up, realizing as she spoke that she’d already broken her agreement not to give Amelia grief. It just seemed wasteful.

“I’m sure you do, but we’re going to have the lady at the counter come up with a new look for you, then we’ll buy the colors she puts together.”

In the ladies’ locker room, Gretchen changed back into her street clothes, all the while muttering to herself about Italy. It would be worth it, she insisted. Just think of the Sistine Chapel, she told herself.

She continued the mantra as the woman at the department store did her makeup. The mantra got louder as Amelia threw clothes at her over the door of the changing room. Gretchen wasn’t really into fashion. She bought clothes that were comfortable, not too expensive and relatively flattering to her shape, such as it was.

But as she turned and looked at herself in the mirror for the first time today, something changed. She was still the Gretchen she recognized, but she looked like the best possible version of herself. Those hours in the salon had left her polished and refined, the makeup highlighting and flattering her features. And although she wouldn’t admit it readily to Amelia, the clothes looked really nice on her, too.

It was an amazing transformation from how she’d woken up this morning. This department store obviously used fun-house mirrors to make her look thinner.

“I want to see,” Amelia complained. “If you don’t come out, I’m coming in.”

Reluctantly, Gretchen came out of the dressing room in one of the more casual looks. She was wearing a pair of extremely tight skinny jeans, a white cotton top and a black leather jacket. It looked good, but the number of digits on the price tags was scaring her. “I only have two thousand dollars, Amelia. I don’t know how much we blew at the spa, but I’m certain I can’t afford a three-hundred-dollar leather jacket.”

Amelia frowned. “I have a charge account here. They send me a million coupons. We’ll have enough money, I promise. You need that jacket.”

“I’m going to a wedding. Isn’t it more important for me to get a nice dress?”

“Yes, but all the formals are marked down from homecoming, so we’ll get one for a good price. You’re also going to the welcome party and the rehearsal dinner. You need something casual, something more formal and a few things in between just in case you get roped into the bridal tea or something. And you’re going to own this stuff long after this week is over, so it’s important to choose good bones for your wardrobe. I like that outfit on you. You’re getting it.”

“It’s too tight,” Gretchen complained, and tugged the top away from her stomach. “I’m too heavy to wear clingy stuff like this.”

Amelia sighed and rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry, but wearing bulky clothes just makes you look bigger than you are. I wore a 34F bra before I got pregnant, okay? I’ve tried hiding these suckers under baggy sweaters for years, but I wasn’t fooling anyone. If you’ve got it, flaunt it. Well-fitting clothes will actually make you look smaller and showcase your curves.”

Gretchen just turned and went back into the dressing room. There was no arguing with her. Instead, she stripped out of the outfit and tried on another. Before they were done, she’d gone through about a dozen other outfits. In the end, they agreed on a paisley wrap dress, a gray sweaterdress with tights, a bright purple cocktail dress, and a strapless formal that looked as if it had been painted with watercolors on the full silky skirt. Gretchen had to admit the gown was pretty, and appropriate for an artist, but she wasn’t sure if she could pull any of this off. In the end, she needed to look as though she belonged on the arm of Julian Cooper.

She didn’t think there were clothes for any price that would make the two of them make sense. Julian was...the most beautiful man she’d ever seen in person. The movies didn’t even do him justice. His eyes were a brilliant shade of robin’s-egg blue, fringed in thick brown lashes. His messy chestnut-colored hair had copper highlights that caught the lights and shimmered. His jaw was square and stubble-covered, his skin tan, and when she got close, she could smell the warm scent of his cologne. It was intoxicating.

And that wasn’t even touching the subject of his body. His shoulders were a mile wide, narrowing into a thin waist and narrow hips. He’d been wearing an untucked button-down shirt and jeans when they met, but still, little was left to her imagination, they fit so well. The moment he’d opened the door, her ability to perform rational speech was stolen away. She’d felt a surge of desire lick hot at her blushing cheeks. Her knees had softened, making her glad she was wearing sensible flats and not the heels Amelia had nagged her to wear.

When it came down to it, Julian was...a movie star. An honest to God, hard-bodied, big-screen superstar. He was like an alien from another planet. A planet of ridiculously handsome people. And even though she looked pretty good in these expensive clothes with expertly applied makeup, Gretchen was still a chubby wallflower with no business anywhere near a man like him.

Men had always been confusing creatures to Gretchen. Despite years of watching her sisters and friends date, she’d never been very good with the opposite sex. Her lack of confidence was a self-fulfilling prophecy, keeping most guys at arm’s length. When a man did approach her, she was horrible at flirting and had no clue if he was hitting on her or just making conversation.

At her age, most women had a couple relationships under their belts, marriages, children... Gretchen hadn’t even been naked in front of a man before. On the rare occasion a guy did show interest in her, things always fell apart before it got that far. Her condition seemed to perpetuate itself, making her more unsure and nervous as the years went by.

Being close to any man set her on edge, and a good-looking one made her downright scattered. Julian just had to smile at her and she was a mess. She couldn’t find a normal guy to be with her; how would anyone believe a shy, awkward nobody could catch Julian’s eye? It was a lost cause, but she couldn’t convince anyone of that.

An hour later, they carried their bags out to Amelia’s car and settled on having dinner at a restaurant that was a few miles from the mall, near the golf course.

“I’m glad we could have a girls’ day out,” Amelia said as they went inside. “Tyler had to fly to Antwerp again, and I get lonely in that big house by myself.”

Amelia’s husband, Tyler, was a jewel and gemstone dealer who regularly traveled the world. They’d hired a woman named Stella to help with catering at From This Moment, so Amelia occasionally got to travel with Tyler, but the further she got in her pregnancy, the less interested she was in long flights. That left her alone in their giant Belle Meade mansion.

“In a few more months, that little girl will get here and you’ll never be alone again.”

“True. And I need your help to come up with some good names. Tyler is terrible at it.” Amelia approached the hostess stand. “Two for dinner, please.”

“Good evening, ladies.”

Gretchen turned at the sound of a man’s voice and found Murray Evans and Julian standing by the entrance behind them. Before she could say anything, Julian approached her and she found herself wrapped in his arms. He smiled at her with a warmth she would never have expected after their awkward first meeting, and he hugged her tight against the hard muscles of his chest.

She stood stiffly in his arms, burying her surprised expression in his neck and waiting for him to back off, but he didn’t seem to be in a rush. When he did finally pull away, he didn’t let her go. Instead, he dipped his head down and pressed his lips to hers. It was a quick kiss, but it sent a rush down her spine that awakened her every nerve. She almost couldn’t grasp what was going on. Julian Cooper was kissing her. Kissing her! In public. She couldn’t even enjoy it because she was so freaked out.

He pulled away and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “You need to work on that,” he said. Then he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and turned to Amelia with a bright, charming smile.

“What good fortune that we’d run into you tonight. It must be fate. Do you mind if Murray and I join you for dinner?”

* * *

“Not at all, please,” the redhead said with a smile that matched his own. “Gretchen said the boys would be out and about today, but we didn’t expect to run into you down here in Franklin.” She had a twinkle of amusement in her eyes that made her seem like the savvy type who knew how to play the game. But judging by the curve of her belly and the rock on her hand, he knew why the redhead had been taken out of the running for his fake girlfriend.

“Excellent.” Julian turned to ask the hostess to change the table from two to four, ignoring the woman’s stunned expression. He was used to that reaction when he attempted to live a real life outside Hollywood. What bothered him more was the wrinkling of the woman’s nose as her gaze shifted to Gretchen in confusion. It made him pull her tighter to his side and plant a kiss in the silky dark strands of hair at the crown of her head.

“What are you two doing out in Franklin?” Gretchen spoke at last, squirming slightly from his arms.

“Well,” Murray began, “we wanted to play some golf. Since I live in Brentwood, coming down here to Forrest Hills is easier and we’re less likely to run into any photogs.”

The hostess gestured for them to follow her to a corner booth in the back of the restaurant. Gretchen slid into one side, and he sat beside her before she could protest. She might not be ready for their ruse to begin, but they were together in public. He hadn’t seen any photographers, but one could be around the next corner. The nosy hostess could tip someone off at the local paper. If anyone saw them together, they needed to be playing their parts.

“What are you ladies up to today?” Julian asked after the server took their drink orders.

“It’s makeover day,” Gretchen said. “Julian, this is Amelia Dixon. She’s the caterer at From This Moment. She’s also very fashionable and helped me with my full day of beauty and shopping.”

Julian shook Amelia’s hand, but he found it hard to turn away from Gretchen once he started really looking at her. She looked almost like a different woman from the one who had shown up at his hotel room the day before. He hadn’t even recognized her when they first walked in the restaurant. It wasn’t until Murray pointed out that they were the women from the chapel that he realized it was Gretchen. The changes were subtle, a refinement of what was already there, but the overall effect was stunning. She was glowing. Radiant. The straightening of her hair made an amazing difference, highlighting the soft curve of her face.

“Well, she did an excellent job. You look amazing. I can’t wait to see what you guys bought for the wedding.”

Gretchen watched him with wary eyes, as though she didn’t quite believe what he’d said. She’d looked at him that way the first night, too. She was an incredibly suspicious woman. He smiled in an attempt to counteract her suspicion, and that just made her flush. Red mottled her chest and traveled up her throat to her cheeks. It seemed as though she blushed right down to her toes. It was charming after spending time with women too bold to blush and too aware of their own beauty to be swayed by his compliments.

He’d argued with Ross that he didn’t think this was going to work after their short, strained meeting, but maybe he was wrong. They just needed to deal with her nerves so her physical reactions to him were more appropriate. She went stiff as a board in his arms, but he had some acting exercises that would help. It was probably fortuitous that they ran into each other tonight. Better they work these issues out now than at an official wedding event.

As the evening went on, it became clear that Julian knew the least about everyone there. Murray had met both women at the various planning sessions leading up to the wedding extravaganza. Julian was starting with a completely clean slate where Gretchen was concerned. Ross hadn’t even told him his date’s name before they met, and their first conversation hadn’t been particularly revealing. They wouldn’t just be posing for some pictures this week. They’d have to interact as a couple, and that meant they needed to learn more about each other if they were going to be believable.

“So you said Amelia is the caterer. What do you do, Gretchen?”

Gretchen got an odd look on her face as though she wasn’t quite sure how to describe what she did for a living. It wasn’t a very hard question, was it?

“Gretchen is our visual stylist,” Amelia said, jumping in to fill the silence.

“I have no idea what that is,” Julian admitted.

“Well, that’s why I hesitated,” Gretchen said. “I do a lot of different things. I design all the paper products, like the invitations and programs. I do all the calligraphy.”

“So you designed Murray’s invitations?”

A wide smile crossed Gretchen’s face for the first time. “I did. I was really excited about that design. I love it when I can incorporate something personal about the couple, and musical notes seemed like the perfect touch.”

“They were just what we were looking for,” Murray said.

“They were nice. I wouldn’t have remembered them otherwise.”

“Thank you. I also do a lot of the decorating and work with the various vendors to get the flowers and other touches set up for the wedding and the reception. I’m a jack-of-all-trades, really. On the day of the wedding, I might be doing emergency stitching on a bridesmaid’s dress, tracking down a wayward groomsman, helping Amelia in the kitchen...”

“Or pinch-hitting as the best man’s date?” Julian said with a chuckle.

“Apparently.” She sighed. “I was the only one that could do it.”

“You mean, you ladies weren’t clamoring over who got to spend time with me? I don’t know if I should be insulted or not.”

Gretchen shrugged and looked at him with a crooked smile that made him think maybe he should be insulted. “It’s got to be better than stitching up a torn bridesmaid’s dress, right? It’s not so bad to be around me. At least I don’t think it is. I’m fun, aren’t I, Murray?”

“Absolutely. You’re going to have a great time with Julian. Just don’t get him talking about his movies. He’ll be insufferable.”

“What’s wrong with my movies?” Julian asked with mock injury in his voice. He didn’t really need to ask. He knew better than anyone that all the films he’d done in the past few years were crap.

He’d started out at an acclaimed theater program at the University of Kentucky. He’d gotten a full scholarship out of high school, praised for his senior performance as the lead in The Music Man. He’d intended to go on to graduate and do more stage work. Maybe not musicals—he wasn’t the best singer—but he enjoyed the acting craft. Then his life fell apart and he had to drop out of school. Desperation drove him to commercial acting, and with a stroke of luck, he ended up where he was now. It wasn’t the creative, fulfilling career he’d dreamed of when he was younger, but his paycheck had more zeroes than he’d ever imagined he’d see in his lifetime.

Everyone laughed and they spent a while critiquing the plot of Bombs of Fury as their food arrived. The conversation continued on various subjects throughout the evening, flowing easily with the group. Gretchen had been quiet at first, but after talking about her work and mocking his, she started to warm up. Julian actually had a good time, which was rare, considering he was having to eat salmon and steamed broccoli while the rest of them were enjoying tastier foods. It should be against the law to be in the South and not be able to eat anything fried.