The Corporate Marriage Campaign

“Plus we need to start shooting again tomorrow—we’re already well behind schedule—and that doesn’t leave time to do background checks on the people who are already listed in the bridal registry.”

“Investigate them? Whatever for?”

“Considering why I’m here this morning, I’m surprised you have to ask. We narrowly escaped putting a batterer into a prominent spot in our advertising. I’d hate to find out after the fact that we chose a bigamist or a sex offender instead.”

“You’re just about as big a cynic as Dave is. Okay, how about Dave?”

“Dave?”

“Salt of the earth. He wouldn’t exactly be royal wedding material, but the ads would have the advantage of looking like real people.”

“Real people?”

“Yes. Pardon me for saying it, but I think the average customer of your department store is likely to have a little trouble picturing herself in Caroline’s size three bikini. Your sister’s gorgeous—or she would be without the bruises. But she looks like a model. Whereas if you had a normal-size, normal-looking bride and groom—”

“Someone like Dave.”

“Sure. Why not ask him how he feels about it?”

“I did. He said he was more accustomed to dealing with mopping up the other end of a marriage.”

“How long have you known him, anyway? Surely it doesn’t surprise you that he’s a bit jaded after all the divorces he’s handled. Maybe he just needs a little encouragement to settle down. Give him a nice gift package, a little publicity for the law practice…”

“He also said he wasn’t dating anyone.”

“Now, that’s malarkey. He’s always dating someone. The current girlfriend called here last night, as a matter of fact. Which reminds me—I forgot to tell him that Ginger phoned.”

“Yes,” Trey said dryly. “I see now why you said you’re good at keeping a secret.”

Darcy made a face at him. “The point is, if he told you he wasn’t dating anyone, he was pulling your leg.”

“You didn’t let me finish. Actually, what he said was that he wasn’t dating anyone he would consider for an instant in connection with the word ‘bride.”’

Darcy blinked in surprise. “Now that makes me feel a little crazy. He harped at me all the way through college about how I should never even go out for a slice of pizza with a guy I wouldn’t consider marrying. Now he’s dating someone he himself thinks is inappropriate—”

“I thought you said you’d talked to her. She must not be so bad if you think she’s all right.”

“Well, I’ve only been back in town for a week, so I haven’t actually met her. Now I can’t wait to see what he means.”

He shifted restlessly against the cabinets. “If we could stay on topic, Darcy.”

“Oh. Sure. Well, if you can’t find a bride and groom, you could always turn the whole thing into a public service campaign to promote awareness of domestic violence.” Belatedly, Darcy remembered the picture hat, the veil, the alias. “Though I guess Caroline wouldn’t want to go quite that public, right?”

“There would also be a little matter of slander if her ex-fiancé’s name came into it.”

“Technically, slander doesn’t apply—not if you’re telling the truth. At least, I think that’s the case, but maybe you should ask Dave about slander and libel.”

“I don’t need to. After the trial is over, Caroline can be the poster child for battered women if she chooses—but in the meantime, I still have a problem.”

“Well, Dave’s very resourceful. I’m sure he’ll think of something.”

“He has thought of something. Me.”

Darcy wondered why that particular solution hadn’t occurred to her. Not because she’d assumed someone like Trey Kent was already taken, because that possibility hadn’t even crossed her mind. There was an air of independence around him which said that no woman—other than perhaps Caroline—had a say in what he did. But it was odd how she’d known that without even stopping to think about it.

“Well, it’s not exactly a unique solution,” Darcy mused, “but it works. Marry off the prince instead of the princess. After all, one royal wedding is pretty much like another. And for the good of the store, surely a little thing like getting married probably wouldn’t be any big deal to you at all. Problem solved. More coffee?”

“I have no intention of getting married.”

“Oh? What have you got against marriage?”

“Nothing in particular. I just wasn’t planning to walk down the aisle anytime soon.”

“So you’re just going to play the part? If that’s all it takes, then why not hire actors?”

“You said yourself it would be much more believable if the models were real people.”

“Well, yes, it would. But isn’t it a little shady to pretend?”

“Who does it hurt?” Trey asked coolly. “The only difference is that on the last page, the happy couple will ride off into the sunset separately instead of together.”

“You’ll keep up the fiction all the way?”

“Right up to the end of the campaign—and then cut, stop the action. It won’t matter to the customer who’s looked at the ads. She’s already had her thrills along the way.”

“I don’t know,” Darcy said doubtfully. “Customers can be funny that way.”

“Look, it’s no different than if Caroline and Corbin had made it all the way through the ad series and then he hit her the night before the wedding.”

“Except that you’re planning the exit before the engagement ever gets off the ground. Of course, if you’re going to be convincing to all your customers, you’ll have to play it very close to your chest right up till the moment when you don’t go through with the wedding. And that could be a problem.”

“Interesting that you think so. Tell me why.”

“Because if you’re acting as if you’re serious in public, the woman you choose as your supposed bride might get the idea that you really are. Serious, I mean—no matter what you tell her in private.”

Trey nodded. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. In fact, Dave pointed out that it could end up in something like a breach-of-promise case.”

“He would say that. Skittish guys all think alike.”

He lifted an eyebrow at her. “Skittish guys? You saw the problem just as quickly as Dave or I did.”

He’d caught her on that one. Darcy shrugged. “So I guess that makes me a skittish girl.”

“And that’s why…” He raised his cup and sipped. The silence drew out.

Darcy felt her breath catch and wondered why she was feeling so anxious. All this had nothing to do with her. Or did it?

“That’s why,” Trey said very softly, “Dave suggested that my supposed bride be…you.”

CHAPTER TWO

TREY hadn’t spent a lot of time in his life contemplating proposals—how the question should be phrased, what the best occasion to ask it would be, or even who he might want to address it to. He figured there would be plenty of time to consider all that, because he was thirty-two and not in the least anxious to settle down.

But there was one thing he would never have expected—that when the day came and he actually suggested to a woman that the two of them might become engaged, she would choke on her coffee and turn purple at the very idea of becoming Mrs. Andrew Patrick Kent the Third.

Stunned and a bit dizzy, maybe—he could understand that sort of reaction. Shedding tears of joy, perhaps. Completely unable to speak and having to indicate agreement by gesturing, even.

But asphyxiating in shock?

Of course the notion of being Mrs. Kent wasn’t what was actually sending Darcy Malone into coughing spasms at the moment. It couldn’t be, because he’d made quite clear that an actual marriage wasn’t what he was offering. She was gasping for air merely because he’d suggested she be his temporary fiancée.

And that made no sense whatsoever. Considering the number of women who’d angled for the position over the years, why was this one puffing in agony over the notion that she simply pretend for a while that she wanted the title?

“Darcy,” he said. “If you could stop this for a minute and just listen…”

“If I could stop…” She clutched both hands to her chest. Her voice was a barely understandable croak. “I would. Just go away, all right?”

“Not as long as you’re threatening to strangle. Here, have a drink of water.” He held a glass to her lips and she managed to sputter a few drops. Her coughs died down to a low wheeze, and he said, “There, that’s better.”

“Maybe it is from your point of view.” She leaned weakly against the counter.

“Look, I don’t understand what’s so awful about the idea. I’m not asking you to have my baby, you know.” He set the water glass down with a bump. “Most of the women I know would be flattered.”

“Which is precisely why you’re asking me, instead of one of them. Right?”

He nodded, relieved that she understood.

“Because I’m not fool enough to take you seriously. So there you have it.”

Trey frowned. “I guess that didn’t come out quite the way I intended it to.”

“Maybe you’ll figure out what I mean in a year or two. Or maybe I’ll wake up in the middle of the night and see how that comment is really a compliment to me. But I wouldn’t count on it.”

“If you’d just listen to what I have in mind, I think you’d see it differently,” he suggested. “There would be considerable advantages for you in this plan, you know.”

“Name two.”

“You need a job.”

“I’ll get one on my own, thanks. I’m perfectly well qualified.”

Her tone was a bit truculent, just enough to make him suspicious. Trey wished he’d thought to ask Dave exactly why she was unemployed at the moment.

“I could make it easy for you,” he said. “You said you’re applying to the Kentwells chain—”

“And what do you think my working conditions would be like on any job you could give me? I’m sure my new supervisor would be simply delighted to have an employee foisted on him by the boss.”

“I’m not stupid enough to make it obvious, Darcy.”

“And exactly how are you going to keep it from being obvious? Are you planning to make the announcement about hiring me before or after my picture is splashed all over the newspapers and the airwaves, standing next to you and choosing lamps for our bedroom? Do you really think your other employees can’t connect the dots and see what’s going on?”

“All right, then—I’ll get you a job somewhere else.”

“I told you, I’ll do it myself, on my own merits. I don’t need a handout.”

“Stubborn, aren’t you? Dave said you were.” Maybe that explained why she was here and not still wherever she’d been living. San Francisco—was that what Dave had told him?

“For a guy who’s supposed to be devoted to the principles of confidentiality, Dave talks too much.”

“You’re not his client. I am.”

“So he can talk to you about me, but he can’t tell me about you? Oh, that’s charming.”

“Unless we’re engaged. Then he can say pretty much whatever he wants because we’d be—in a sense—family.”

“In a sense,” she agreed. “You’re not giving this idea up, are you?”

“I think it’s the perfect arrangement.”

“What makes it so great—if I’m allowed to ask?”

“For one thing, sudden engagements are always suspicious, but—”

Darcy’s eyes widened. They were an odd shade of brownish-green, he noticed. Trey had never seen anything quite like them.

“What?” she gasped. “You’re saying you don’t believe in love at first sight?”

He ignored the irony dripping from her voice. “But since you’re my friend’s sister and not just some stranger, we could easily have met months or even years ago. You’ve lived out of town for a while, so that explains why my other friends haven’t met you or heard about you. But since I travel a fair amount, I could have been visiting you often. They’ll believe it.”

“Not just some stranger… That sounds like a great title for a made-for-TV movie.”

She said it under her breath, but there was no missing the fact that Darcy had gone past irony all the way into sarcasm, so Trey pretended he hadn’t heard her. “People will still be startled when I announce that I’m getting married, of course—”

“I don’t doubt that a bit.”

“But not as startled as they would be if I said I was engaged to someone they’d known all along.”

She nodded. “Someone you’ve obviously not been serious about before.”

He was making progress, Trey told himself. He could almost see the dents starting to show in her armor. “Right. You’re the unknown, so they’ll reserve judgment for a while. And it’s conceivable that I could have fallen in love with you, so—”

She rubbed her temple as if it hurt. “Gee, thanks. I feel so honored.”

Trey felt like swearing. What on earth had he said that was so terrible? She was easy on the eyes, she had a graceful walk, she projected a certain confidence even in ragged sweat clothes. If he could just surgically remove that sharp tongue, she’d be next door to perfect for the role. “I was paying you a compliment.”

“Drop it, Trey. You’re only digging yourself a deeper hole, here.”

“Anyway, the fact that we’re admitting we’ve only seen each other at random intervals will even help account for why the whole thing falls apart in the end—when we break off the engagement.”

“Because when we start spending lots of time together, we’ll realize we aren’t as compatible as we thought we were.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, that’s not hard for me to picture,” she said. “You really have thought of everything.”

“It’s not like this will last forever, Darcy.”

“But it will go on for a while.” She sighed. “Just for the sake of discussion, and not because I’m agreeing to anything, how long do you expect it would take?”

Trey stopped to calculate. “Two or three weeks.”

“How did you come up with that? I thought you said it was going to be a three-month long campaign.”

“Well, yes—we’ve bought ad space that far ahead. I mean it’ll be two or—more likely—three weeks for photography and production. We’ll have to start from scratch, you see.”

“And after the shooting’s done, everything just runs on autopilot?”

He frowned. “I suppose there would be the occasional public appearance, just to keep up the fiction, until the ads finished running.”

“That’s what I thought. Somewhere around Christmastime, in other words.”

“It’s not like it would be every day. Dave said there’s no one in your life, so—”

“And since I obviously don’t have anything better to do for the next few months, I might as well do this?”

“That isn’t quite the way I’d have put it, but…”

“Pardon me while I go ask my brother to refer me to a good attorney.”

Trey wrinkled his brow. “Dave is an attorney, Darcy.”

“Yes. But after I murder him, I’m going to need someone else to defend me.”

“Dave has only your best interests at heart. You’re at loose ends right now, and a job hunt may take months, especially since you’re not working at the moment. Employers always want to know what happened to the last job.”

She sighed as if she’d found that out the hard way.

Trey pushed his advantage. “I’m willing to compensate you for the time you spend with me.”

“Oh, thanks very much for making me sound like a call girl.”

“It’s nothing of the sort! You’d have a paying job right away, even if it’s not exactly what you’ve been applying for. And within a few weeks, by the time the photography’s all finished, I’m sure I can arrange something for you that’s closer to your field.”

“Any job you could possibly arrange for me would look very fishy.”

She had a point, and Trey had to admit it. “All right, if an easy-to-get job isn’t your thing, then what sort of bargain do you have in mind? There must be something you want.”

“You mean, if I could have anything at all?”

He noted a sudden gleam in her eyes. Greed, he thought. Or avarice. Or maybe just plain ambition. “Within reason,” he said warily.

“Then I want my own firm.”

He was waiting for her to say a million dollars, and so it took a few seconds for him to register what she’d actually demanded. “I said within reason, Darcy.”

“I think I’m being perfectly reasonable. I don’t want you to set me up with a Fortune-500-sized company. I just want my own, one-person graphic-design firm.”

“And you think it wouldn’t look suspicious if I was behind that?”

“Who’s going to know you’re behind it? I’m tired of working for other people. I’m tired of producing infinite variations of dull subjects. I want to be able to choose which projects I handle, and set my own work schedule.”

“Being in business for yourself isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“It’s better than having to deal with a boss who’s been stuck with me against his will. You help me set up my office. Then after we break our engagement, the Kentwells chain hires me to create a new logo and—”

“Wait a minute here.”

“That will prove to everyone that we’re breaking up amicably, remaining friends despite the fact that the wedding didn’t work out. Then you can recommend me to the other firms you deal with, and we’ll be square.”

“That’s outrageous. In fact, it’s blackmail.”

“It’s business. Take it or leave it.”

“And if I leave it?”

Darcy shrugged. “That would be just fine with me. I’ll be no worse off than when I woke up this morning—except for the attack of acid indigestion you’ve caused me. And I’m sure you could find someone among the women of your acquaintance who would play along with the idea of being engaged and be much more enthusiastic about the role than I am.”

She had him there. They’d be too enthusiastic—that was the problem.

“One of Caroline’s friends might be willing to help you out.”

Trey couldn’t help wincing at the thought.

“And if Dave put his mind to it,” she went on thoughtfully, “he might even be able to write up a contract that’s watertight enough to keep her from suing you later on for changing your mind and dumping her. Mind you, I’m not promising anything of the sort, because then I’d be practicing law without a license, and Dave says I have to be very careful about that.”

Might. Trey didn’t feel like betting his life on Dave’s contract-writing skills. Which of course was exactly why Darcy had said it. Obviously Dave wasn’t the only member of the Malone family who specialized in twisted legal logic.

“If I agree to set you up in business,” he warned, “I’m going to expect a lot more than the occasional public appearance.”

Darcy didn’t miss a beat. “Really? What have you got in mind? You want me to have your baby after all?”

His mouth went dry at the thought. With horror, he told himself. “Heaven forbid the world should have a miniature version of you inflicted on it.”

Darcy smiled. “Now that’s really funny, because I was thinking precisely the same thing about you. Andrew Patrick Kent the Fourth—the poor child. What would you call him, anyway? Quatro?”

Trey decided to ignore her. “If I’m going to invest serious money in setting you up in business, you’d have to make yourself available whenever I needed you. And there would be no embarrassing incidents. No getting caught in a compromising position with some other guy.”

“Oh, that’s comforting. You mean I can do anything I want, as long as I don’t get caught—right?”

“Dammit, Darcy—”

“Oh, don’t worry. Remember? I’m just as skittish as you are—there’s absolutely no one in my life and no possibility that will change. So you have nothing to worry about. I’ll be too busy working on my new business to look around for men, anyway.”

He wished that felt like a benefit. In fact, the more she worked on her new business, he suspected, the more this was going to cost him. But what choice did he have? “Then we have a deal,” he said, and held out a hand.

She hesitated, and he found himself holding his breath. Then she reached out. Her palm was warm against his, her grip firm, her fingers steady.

Trey wouldn’t have been surprised to find that he was trembling himself. Which was totally ridiculous, of course. She’d agreed to the terms—hell, she’d set them herself, so she had nothing to complain about. Things were perfectly clear. It was absolutely, unquestionably a no-risk agreement.

So why did he feel like running?

Darcy had had no intention of agreeing. The proposition Trey had made was nothing short of ludicrous, but the only way to make him realize how silly he sounded had seemed to be to make her terms just as laughable as his were. So she’d fired back in similar terms, never dreaming that he might actually give in and accept them.

For a moment, when he’d offered to shake hands on the deal, she’d been tempted to back down—to withdraw the demand of a business of her own and take him up on the offer to help her find a job instead.

But all the arguments she’d given him earlier were valid ones. If he were to create a job for her, she’d go into it under a cloud. Though her skills and talents were real, a supervisor who was forced to hire her might never give her the chance to make good. If that were to happen, the working conditions could end up being every bit as bad as what she’d left behind when she came home to the penthouse.

And once Trey had found her a job, he would have fulfilled his end of the bargain, and he’d have no further obligation to help, no matter how unpleasant the situation in which she found herself. Meanwhile, she’d still have her promise to fulfill, even if it took months and months…

But what was she thinking? There was yet another option—a third choice, beyond making a deal for either a job or her own business. And the third alternative was the only sensible one. She should thank him for his offer and do her best not to laugh as she turned him down.

But she didn’t. Instead, as if she were mesmerized, Darcy found herself reaching out to him, actually agreeing to be his pretend fiancée for the next three months.

What in heaven’s name was wrong with her? She should have run, not let herself be talked into cutting a deal with Mr. Elegance. He was exactly what she didn’t need—another guy who was gorgeous and knew how to use it to his advantage…

No, she thought. This time would be different. This time, she was the one who would be doing the using.

She vaguely heard the creak of Dave’s office door opening, and only when she heard the murmur of approaching voices did she realize that she and Trey were still standing in the kitchen, hand in hand. She pulled away as quickly as she could.

But obviously Dave had already seen, for he said, “You’ve struck a deal, then? Good—I’ll get the paperwork written up.”

“Paperwork?” Darcy said. “You mean like a prenuptial agreement?”

Trey frowned at her.

“All right, a nonnuptial agreement, then,” Darcy muttered.

Dave had gone straight on. “I’ll draw up a simple contract. I’m glad we could help out, Trey.”

“What do you mean, we?” Darcy said. “Unless you’re going to be getting your picture taken, Dave, and making nice at social functions, I don’t think that your contribution is nearly as personal as—”

Caroline spoke up. “Speaking of social functions, will you be giving Darcy an engagement party, David?”

“It hadn’t crossed my mind, no.”

Darcy relaxed. At least Dave hadn’t totally lost his perspective.

Caroline frowned. “Then perhaps I’ll do it. I don’t think it matters who hosts it, really—does it, Darcy? I know showers are supposed to be given by friends, not by family members, but is there any rule about engagement parties?”

Was the woman serious? Hadn’t she gotten the message that this wasn’t real? Or was Trey planning to keep her in the dark, too?

Darcy decided to humor her for a bit and wait for Trey to speak up or Caroline to regain her senses. “Beats me. As long as we’re shopping for everything a couple needs for a wedding and a home, maybe we should start with an etiquette book so we can look up the rules.”

Caroline smiled, and then touched a careful finger to her upper lip where the skin had stretched wide and broken open once again. “Ouch, that hurt. But that’s a really good idea. Every bride should have an etiquette book on hand. I think this is going to be wonderful, Trey—Darcy has much more creative ideas than I do.”