Читать книгу The Fake Fiancée - Megan Kelly, Megan Kelly - Страница 10

The next day, Lisa paced the waiting area outside Joe’s office, recalling her adamant refusal to help him. Now she had to swallow her pride and ask for a favor. She could humble herself for her children. She’d had practice enough in the past eighteen months. But deceiving Joe’s parents stuck in her craw.

Unfortunately, she didn’t have much choice. She wanted to rise above the humiliation of being broke, but more importantly, she had to get Bobby into that program. Providing for her children drove her every action.

The night before, Lisa had seated herself beside Bobby as he climbed into bed. She brushed a stray lock of white-blond hair off his forehead.

“Bobby, why did you hit Arnold?”

He stared at his lightweight blanket, threading it between his fingers. His shoulders rose and fell in a shrug.

The cicadas started their nightly song outside. An early June bug thunked against the window screen, trying to reach the light. The overhead fan whirred. Her son said nothing.

She bit her bottom lip, then prodded, “Bobby? You must have had a reason.”

Still not looking at her, he mumbled, “He called me a name.”

Lisa sighed. She’d gotten that much from his teacher. “Honey, you can’t just hit people because you don’t like what they say. Miss Jensen said you shoved him yesterday, too.”

He shrugged again.

“And you kicked Mr. Riley.”

Bobby’s eyes flashed to hers. “But he was yelling at you!”

“No, honey, he wasn’t. Even if he had been, it would still be wrong to kick him.”

Bobby’s bottom lip stiffened. “I’m the man of the house now. Just like on TV.”

Lisa’s chest tightened. How could she scold him for protecting her? She kissed his forehead. “I love you. But no more hitting, no matter what the reason. Hitting doesn’t make a boy into a man.”

He didn’t respond, but Lisa knew he’d heard her.

Now she glowered at Joe’s pretty young secretary, who kept her gaze on her computer monitor. The brunette might appear to be a bubblehead, but she’d guarded Joe like a pit bull, not letting Lisa speak to him. Lisa had hoped to make this distasteful arrangement on the phone or at her house, giving her home-field advantage. But Joe’s secretary screened his calls and relayed his messages, limiting her access—no doubt on his orders. He could only fit Lisa into his schedule if she came to see him that morning. Given Bobby’s increased violent streak, the sooner she received the advance money and could enroll him, the better.

“Lisa.” Joe’s deep voice shivered through her. He leaned against the door frame of his office, hands in his pants pockets. “I must admit I’m surprised to hear from you, but I’m very pleased.”

He radiated confidence, with a touch of smug victory. In a dark charcoal three-piece suit, he looked even more handsome than she remembered. Her mouth went dry. Nerves, not attraction, she assured herself. She nodded cordially. “I’d like to discuss something with you.”

A second man emerged from Joe’s office, sans jacket or tie, with his gray shirt unbuttoned at the throat. Dark blond hair brushed his collar.

“This is my partner, Dylan Ross,” Joe said. Turning to Dylan, he added, “This is Lisa Meyer, owner of Goodies to Go. We’re about to negotiate the fine points to her providing desserts for our first fiscal year-end party in Howard.”

“Nice to meet you.” Dylan stepped forward and shook Lisa’s hand.

“Are you staying for the meeting, too?” She darted a look at Joe, relieved when he shook his head. At least he hadn’t spread the tale of their distasteful pact.

“Sorry,” Dylan said, a teasing light in his blue eyes. “Joe conveniently forgot to mention how attractive the caterer was he had to meet with. How’d you let that happen, Sue?” he asked Joe’s secretary, who watched their exchange avidly. Dylan glanced at his wristwatch. “Come to think of it, I might be able to spare a few minutes.”

“No, you really can’t.” Joe took his arm and marched him a few steps on his way.

“See you again,” Dylan called with a laugh as he continued on his own steam toward the door.

“Nice to meet you.” Lisa was still smiling when she met Joe’s narrowed gaze.

“So you’ve reconsidered?”

She glanced at his secretary, who bent over her keyboard, actively not listening. “Under certain circumstances, I might agree to your…proposition.”

Joe smiled. “I’m intrigued. Shall we step into my office?”

Said the drooling wolf to the lamb. Not fooled by his charming facade, she ignored the warmth of his hand on her elbow, as well as the tingle chasing through her blood.

Lisa couldn’t decide what to make of his enormous office. Neutral colors and light wood tones blended into blandness. Dark glass in the windows cloaked the sunlight. No plants to add life; no photographs graced his desk. Although tasteful and professional, Joe’s office presented an impersonal face to his associates. It certainly chilled her.

“Thanks for meeting with me here,” Joe said after seating her on a tan leather sofa. He settled in one of the three chairs across from her. “Would you care for a drink?”

Lisa declined with a shake of her head.

“Perhaps I could take you to lunch afterward?”

She smiled with insincere sweetness. “That won’t be possible. I had to rearrange my morning to suit yours. I have work to complete this afternoon.”

He chuckled as she evened the score.

“The flower show is in four days, you know.”

He winced. “I remember.”

Lisa almost crowed with satisfaction. She had him. He’d have to agree to give her the contract.

“You said you’d help me under certain conditions.” Joe’s manner turned less personal. “I assume you’re talking about catering our company party.”

“Yes, but that’s not the cond—”

He held up his hand. “I assure you I didn’t mean it as a bribe at the time, and I don’t think badly of you for agreeing to it now. It’s just a—” he waved his hand vaguely “—an exchange of services.”

Lisa bit her lip. For two cents, she’d walk out and leave him hanging—for two cents and about half a million dollars, which she didn’t have. Joe might need her to extricate him from this tangle of lies he’d woven, but she also needed him.

Dammit. She’d worked her rear off whittling down that debt. They’d still have to live hand-to-mouth for a while, but she had started to rebuild her life. Maybe in a year or two she could get a credit card, although it would no doubt be a prepay deal. But to have a credit rating she could be proud of. To pay off her business loans. To take her children to the pizza place herself and not cower at the cost of the arcade games. Oh, she’d do a lot for that. She’d enroll Bobby in that enrichment program, then stuff the check for the whole amount, without any grants from the school district, right up Bushfield’s nose.

She took a deep breath. “First, let me assure you I wouldn’t do this if I could come up with another solution.”

Joe’s eyebrows rose.

“I stayed up all night, worrying over this. If there was any way not to have to make this deal with you, any way at all…” She clenched her hands together.

“Is this your way of asking me for a favor?”

Lisa’s face heated. She’d insulted him. Not a promising start. Rubbing her temple, she mentally altered her phrasing. “No, it’s my way of proposing a deal. I believe in honesty, and although I might agree to your deception, it goes against my nature. I want you to understand my desper—my position.”

Joe leaned toward her. “Go on.”

“You need me to pretend to be your girlfriend, to appease your mother. I need your catering contract, but I don’t want our arrangement to upset my children. My condition is simple. They’re not to be involved. You’re not to be around them. It’s out of the question.”

He studied her in silence. After an eternity, he said, “I don’t see how I can stay away from the children since we’ll be dating.” His tone laced charm with silken warning.

“I thought I’d just meet your parents once or twice. At the Garden Society exhibit and maybe one other time in a couple of weeks to cap off the pretense.”

He shook his head. “We’ll have to be seen out together. My mother has a network of friends. She wouldn’t believe we have a serious relationship if we aren’t spotted around town. We’re supposedly on the brink of getting married.”

Lisa sighed, conceding his point. “Fine, but no meeting the kids. They’re a little confused right now, basically due to their father’s desertion. Brad, my husband, wasn’t…He didn’t…”

She jumped to her feet, unable to stay still.

“It wasn’t an amicable divorce?” Joe asked.

She snorted, then caught herself and paced away. “No, it wasn’t. It’s been a year and a half of upheaval for the kids.” She leaned back against his desk and gazed into mid-distance between them as some of those upheavals ran through her mind. The children’s tears. Her shock at sudden bankruptcy. Their nightmares. Their confusion and hurt.

“Is there any chance you and your husband might—?”

“No.” She shuddered. Not even for the children.

Joe nodded. He tapped steepled fingers against his full lower lip. Lisa ground her teeth, both irritated at him for his relaxed position while her world teetered to disaster, while also impatient with herself for noticing his seductive mouth at such a time.

“So what am I supposed to be?”

She swallowed another lump of pride and confessed, “You’re the provider of a contract that’ll bail me out of a financial bind.”

“No, I meant what will your children think I am to you?”

She stared at him. Having forced herself to admit she needed money so badly, she couldn’t switch tracks fast enough to follow his train of thought.

“Am I posing as your lover or whatever the kids would call it?” His mouth twisted. “Your boyfriend, I suppose.”

Lisa snapped her mouth closed. “No, that’s not what I’d planned, at all. I thought you could just be my client.”

Joe stood and walked toward her.

She forgot how to breathe.

“I’ll be picking you up for dates, for my parents’ sake, remember? Your children will know we’re more than business associates.”

“Not…not if I explain that I’m doing you a favor.”

His smile was less than nice. “But you’re not going to explain that to them. You’re not going to explain it to anyone. Word gets around. Kids tell kids, who tell parents, who might know me or my folks.”

“Oh.” Her pounding heart impeded her thinking. She couldn’t breathe; she couldn’t think. Maybe being around Joe wasn’t such a great idea.

“It’s our secret. You’re my girlfriend, lover, or whatever you want to call yourself.”

“Girlfriend,” she interjected, shying away from the thought of being Joe’s lover.

“Fine.” He leaned so close his cool breath brushed her lips. She inhaled his male warmth. His gaze held hers. “My parents will consider us almost engaged. We don’t tell anyone the truth.” His low voice compelled her to agree. “We pretend to be madly in love with each other. Understand?”

Compelling was one thing; intimidating was another. She simmered. Who did he think he was? She’d put up with too much garbage in the past eighteen months to be pushed around by Joe Riley.

She locked her gaze on his. “I understand perfectly. Do you understand you have to pretend to be honorable when you’re around my children?”

He straightened, blank surprise on his face.

“Can you keep your real character a secret?”

“What are you talking about?”

Lisa advanced on him. “Your tendency to lie your way out of trouble—”

Joe backed away, his hands up to ward her off.

“Your attempt to bribe me.” She stepped forward. “Your—”

He stepped back. “Now wait a minute—”

“I only hope you can fake it.”

He halted. “I don’t have to fake anything. If you had any doubts about my character, you wouldn’t have begged me for this contract.”

“If I had another choice,” she corrected, “I wouldn’t have agreed to help you out. I’m taking a chance on you.”

The calculation in Joe’s smile sent shivers of warning across her skin. He stepped toward her. “But I’m taking a chance on you, as well. I have to trust you to behave as though you love me.”

“You can trust me.”

“How do I know?”

“I can fake it.”

He smirked. “I’ve never had a wom—”

“Don’t even say it.”

“Maybe I ought to put you to the test.”

She eyed him with suspicion. “What test?”

“We’ll be performing in front of my mother, who can sniff out a fraud like a bloodhound.” He smiled. “Maybe we ought to rehearse.”

“What? Why?”

“We’re not exactly friends. My mother—everyone—will be able to tell if it’s our first kiss. We should practice, just until it feels natural.”

Lisa glared at him, disgusted with his tactics. Another manipulator, just like Brad. “I should’ve expected something like this from you.” She stalked to the door, followed by Joe’s laughter, soft, but edged with triumph. “Mail me the contract.”

“Coward,” he called across the room.

“With the advance money.” She slammed the door on his grin.

LISA TOOK HER CHECK to the principal’s office the next day as school let out, Joe’s advance having arrived by special courier. Laying down the money for Bobby’s program, without having to apply for any grants from the school district, didn’t offer her the satisfaction she had imagined.

Abby jumped into the car. Bobby had been invited to practice soccer at the house of one of his teammates. Tomorrow she’d tell him about his starting “a new adventure,” which was how she’d decided to view the program.

Lisa hated to cut into her special time alone with Abby doing a mundane chore, but she needed to stop at the grocery store on the way home. Time seemed to slip away from her these days, never leaving enough for all the things she had to do.

“Sally Turner’s having a birthday party, Mom, and she invited me! Everyone’s going. Can I go? Please.”

After an affectionate glance at Abby, Lisa checked the rearview mirror for oncoming cars then pulled into traffic. “When is it?”

“Her birthday is next week, but the party’s not till June eighth. It’s a Sunday. We have lots of time to shop.”

“What are you planning to get her?” She could stretch the budget to include a present, as long as Sally “The Girl Who Has Everything” Turner didn’t expect expensive name brands. “Why is her party so far in the future?”

“Everybody who’s invited decided to get new T-shirts with the band’s name on them. I can have one, too, can’t I? It shouldn’t cost too much.”

Lisa frowned. “What band?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you the best part!” Abby bounced on the seat in her excitement, a grin splitting her face. Lisa hadn’t seen her this happy or this animated since Brad left. Thank you, Sally.

“Sally’s parents are taking us to see Juniper Jones.”

“Wow.” Concert tickets for the Turners and a group of girls would cost a load of money. Lisa bit her lip, hoping Abby understood her own birthday celebration wouldn’t include anything nearly as expensive.

“So I can go?” Abby insisted.

“I suppose so.”

Juniper Jones was the name of an all-girl band, whose songs focused more on friendship and teen angst than drugs or sex. Abby had their two most recent CDs, and their poster decorated her wall. At least the Turners, whose lax parenting methods Lisa usually abhorred, had chosen music appropriate for eight-and nine-year-olds. She struggled over letting them take her daughter to the crowded concert. Surely they could be responsible for Abby for one evening.

“That’s really cool,” Lisa said. “I didn’t know Juniper Jones was playing in Kansas City this summer. I suppose we can find a band T-shirt somewhere.”

Maybe one of those Internet bargain sites would have a shirt available. Souvenirs at the concert were costly.

Abby hunched in her seat. “They’re not.”

Sure she’d lost track of the conversation, Lisa said, “I don’t understand.”

“We’re going to see the concert in St. Louis. We get to stay overnight at a hotel. With a pool.”

Fortunately for the other drivers on Wilson Avenue, the light ahead turned red. Lisa braked with extra care then stared at Abby. She wouldn’t even let parents she trusted take Abby across the state overnight, let alone the Turners. “And you’re just now mentioning this part.”

Abby nodded, not quite meeting her eyes.

“After you made sure I said you could go.” Lisa tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry, Abby. The answer’s no.”

“Mom!”

She raised an eyebrow at her daughter, a definite warning sign should Abby care to heed it.

Abby’s chin dropped onto her chest. “That’s so unfair.”

Lisa inhaled and glanced ahead. Still red, thank heavens. She didn’t think she could negotiate traffic and this conversation without killing someone. Preferably Sally Turner’s parents. What were they thinking? She shook out fingers gone numb from her hold on the steering wheel.

The light changed, and Lisa carefully advanced.

After three blocks, Abby burst. “Why can’t I go?”

Lisa let the silence hold until she parked at the curb in front of the store. “It’s too far. You can’t stay overnight in another city at your age without me.”

“Sally’s parents will be with us. And it’ll be summer, not a school night.”

Lisa held up her hand. “Don’t start. You knew what the answer would be before you asked, which is why you wanted me to say yes before you filled in all the details. I don’t appreciate being manipulated, young lady.”

“Sorry,” Abby muttered.

Lisa blew out a deep breath.

They got out of the car, although Lisa had never felt less like seeing food in her life. Abby got quieter as the hours progressed, and by bedtime, Lisa almost wished the girl would let loose her feelings the way Bobby did. Abby’s silent melancholy tore at her heart.

AT THE CONVENTION HALL the next week, Lisa glanced around at the hothouse exhibit of roses, orchids and gardenias and felt satisfied that her sugary confections complemented the beauty of the room. Moreover, her flowers offered a delight for the tongue as well as the eye. About fifty women in sequins and chiffon led their handsomely suited men through the partitioned-off areas. Muted conversations, briefly punctuated by outbursts of greetings, blended with the classical music in the background.

Lisa darted to the main dessert table to inspect the platters again, having checked on the four satellite stations she’d set around the room. She felt the eyes of the attendees drifting over her. Eager to make a good impression in hopes of future business, she smiled at everyone and said a few words, while trying to maintain a professional, I’m-just-the-invisible-help type presence.

“I need to set out more cookies,” Ginger said as she replaced a tray of mint crème candies. “Things are going really well.” She laid out more cocktail napkins and plates then whisked her tray to the next table.

As Lisa gathered up the dirty dishes and hurried toward the convention hall’s kitchen, the hairs on her neck prickled. She was here someplace, poor Mrs. Riley, hoping to meet Joe’s “almost fiancée.” Lisa swung through the metal kitchen doors, making sure they swished closed. Shame filled her as she imagined her upcoming performance, duping that fragile old woman into believing her son’s happiness was assured. Tricking Mrs. Riley in her last days would secure Lisa a long stay in purgatory.

She dumped the dishes on the stainless steel counter and wiped her forehead with the back of her wrist. The hall’s kitchen made her salivate with envy. Cool, smooth metal expanses of countertops, an industrial-size fridge, two freezers, three ovens…

Lisa reined in her yearning. She didn’t need this much equipment, not for her simple operation. The scope of the night’s party had been huge enough. Even with Ginger’s assistance, getting everything here and setting up had depleted her enthusiasm for catering large jobs. She should have hired more servers, but she simply couldn’t afford them. Ginger had offered her help for free, but Lisa insisted on paying her.

She couldn’t bring herself to take anything more from anyone. In addition to paying back loans from half the banks in town, she had to repay Joe Riley. With her affection.

The back of her right eyeball cramped.

Deceiving Mrs. Riley into thinking she loved Joe would take an acting job worthy of an Academy Award. No wonder she felt a migraine intensifying.

Ginger backed through the large swing doors into the kitchen, her arms laden with a tray of dirty dishes. She set it on the worktable and guzzled a drink from her water bottle. “Wow, they really love your stuff. I bet you get tons of catering calls after tonight.”

“I hope so,” Lisa said. “Don’t worry, though. If I do, I’ll hire some college kids to help out.”

“It’s kind of fun. Although it is harder than trying to make a baby, which is what I have to get home to do.” She referred to her fertility cycle, a timetable for conception she and her husband called the Baby Project.

Lisa glanced at her watch. “Oh, Ginger, go on ahead. Kyle should be home from his meeting by now.”

Ginger grimaced but removed her apron. “I hate to leave you with so many dishes. I have time to set out some more petit fours.”

“Don’t be silly. You’ve been a huge help all night, and while you’re ovulating, no less.”

They laughed, and Lisa hugged her. “Now, go. Babies are way more important than those women getting more cake.”

“When you’re right, you’re right.”

“I don’t know about that, but I am the boss tonight.”

With a wave, Ginger headed out the back door.

Lisa loaded a tray with petit fours, amazed at how many she’d already served. By the look of the leftovers, the guests had bypassed most of the candies she’d slaved over, but had taken to the cookies and the petit fours, small bites of cake, which she’d iced and decorated with individual rosebuds. Decorating cookies required a lot more work, as well as the initial cutting out and baking, but maybe she ought to consider cookie bouquets for her slow periods. College parents at the Kansas City universities might go for small care packages, especially around the holidays or exam time.

“I thought I’d find you in here.”

Lisa dropped a petit four on another, smashing an iced flower. She ground her teeth then fixed a smile in place before facing Joe. Might as well start rehearsing now. She needed all the practice she could get pretending affection for someone putting her through such turmoil.

Of course he looked gorgeous, which should have helped the pretense but only made her more miserable. Why did he have to have the upper hand in everything? She felt as though she’d been working in a sweatshop all evening, while Joe looked sensational in a black suit, which made his black hair shine.

She bit back the temptation to tell him he looked handsome. Surely he heard that from women all the time, women who weren’t pretending, women whose opinions mattered. She clamped her lips together.

“Are you hiding from my mother?”

“Absolutely.”

His eyes widened, then he laughed. “For some reason, I thought you’d deny it.”

She lifted a brow at him. “Some people enjoy honesty, Mr. Riley. Keeping track of lies is too exhausting.”

His smile turned glacial. “Some people just can’t loosen up. Anal, I believe Freud called it. Or just self-righteous.”

Lisa flushed. When had she gotten to be such a sourpuss? Oh, yeah. Brad. She cleared her throat. “Sorry. I’m just nervous.”

He looked genuinely surprised. “About meeting my mom? You shouldn’t be. Mom’s a sweetie pie.”

She crossed her arms. “Then what was all that about our practicing kissing so she wouldn’t see through our act? A bloodhound, I think you called her.”

Joe grinned, showing his dimples. “I’m glad you reminded me. That’s still a great idea.”

“Forget it, buster.” Lisa fought a giggle and lost. “You’re looking for practice in all the wrong places.”

“Nerves are making you hysterical. Let’s go meet Mom and Dad and get this over with.”

Her feet stuck to the floor. “Mom and Dad?”

“Sure, didn’t I tell you? Mom’s president of the Garden Society. Next to the Rose Exhibit, this is her big event. Naturally Dad came to support her.”

“No,” she said, her voice squeezing out of her tight throat. She pressed a hand to her abdomen. “You didn’t mention it.”

“Didn’t Mom contact you about catering tonight?”

She rubbed her throbbing temple. “I dealt with the event coordinator, Lainey Perkins. I didn’t know your mom was president.”

He frowned. “It doesn’t matter, does it?”

“I guess not. I just got this sick feeling in my stomach when you told me.” She tried to laugh it off. “What difference could it possibly make?”

“Atta girl.” Joe put his hand on the small of her back. He imagined her slender body perfectly curled into his. Her shiny blond hair would tickle like corn silk against his cheek. He enjoyed the warmth beneath his hand. Her derriere curved out right below. He could slide his hand down and—

And Lisa would smash an entire tray of desserts in his face. Joe smiled as he led her across the room. He enjoyed the fire of her temper, the challenge in her blue eyes. She didn’t make it easy for him to “court” her, but he relished the chase. “There they are.”

Lisa stumbled. He felt her stiffen as they neared and draped his arm across her back.

He tried to see them as Lisa would, but to Joe, they were just Mom and Dad. Joe inspected his mother’s face for too much or too little color, but she appeared hale and hearty, despite the pressures of the evening. He let out a relieved breath. His dad beamed with pride, as if Mom had not only put this shindig together single-handedly but grown all the flowers, too. Joe felt that same satisfaction.

His mother watched their approach. He raised his voice to get his father’s attention. “Mom, Dad. This is Lisa Meyer. Lisa, these are my parents, Alice and Mike Riley.”

His dad encompassed her small hand with both of his. The warm, open smile on his face said better than his words how much he enjoyed meeting her. Lisa had helped make the party a success for his wife, and she was with Joe. That made her okay with his dad.

Joe glanced at his mom. She was sizing Lisa up, he noticed with fond amusement.

“So nice to meet you.” His mom held out her hand to Lisa. “I’ve heard nothing but praise around the tables this evening, both for the taste of the desserts and for your smooth expertise in serving.”

“Thank you.” Lisa swallowed visibly. “It’s nice of you to say so. I’ve enjoyed what I’ve seen of the flower exhibit. You’ve presented the flowers in a thought-provoking manner.”

His mom’s eyes narrowed. “How do you mean?”

Joe squeezed Lisa’s waist.

She cleared her throat. “There are various ways to group a presentation. For instance, you could have put all the roses together, bunched the orchids, like that, displaying the quality of each entry against its rivals. But then you would have had a rose corner, an orchid corner, and so on, and it would have been boring, like picking out plants in a nursery.”

Joe gawked at her. Boring? What was she doing? Why didn’t she just say thanks to his mother’s compliment, tell her how in love she was with him, and skedaddle back to the kitchen?

“I’ve seen it done totally by color, too.”

He fought the urge to elbow her, fearing his mother would notice. With dread, he waited to hear what she’d say next because, as far as he could tell, his mom had grouped the flowers by color.

“That approach results in chaos, of course,” Lisa said.

He groaned. Maybe she was showing her worst side, hoping his mother would talk Joe out of seeing her, declaring Lisa unfit. Or just insane.

“Chaos?” His mother’s chill tone brought autumn to the room. He glanced at the nearby plants, watching for them to wither.

Lisa nodded. “Absolutely. Orchids and roses fighting for space, mixing their perfumes until it smelled like a funeral parlor—”

He choked, barely hearing his mother’s gasp over the piano music in the background. His dad surveyed the nearby food tables, clearly not interested in flower arrangements and oblivious to the byplay.

“And obscuring their individual perfection. But—” Lisa’s voice rose with what Joe took for enthusiasm “—you’ve utilized the color scheme, while preserving the distinctiveness of each species. Tea roses and old-fashioneds complement each other, and separating them by shade only emphasizes their individual characters.”

Joe debated kicking her ankle. Had Lisa lost her mind? It hardly mattered that his mother was warming to her continued—and continued and continued—praise. He had to get her away. He observed her pinkened cheeks and bright eyes and finally noticed what had escaped him before.

Lisa wasn’t breathing.

She’d barely taken a breath since she started. In a minute he’d have to scoop her off the floor from a light-headed faint. He no longer wanted to kick her ankle, although he might have to pound her on the back to get her to inhale. The tightness in his chest eased. She was only nervous, not trying to sabotage his plan.

“Well,” he cut in, “we all agree with you, honey.” He saw her start of surprise, and—finally, thankfully—heard her gulp in air. “When Mom does something, she does it right.”

“That’s what I was trying to say,” Lisa said.

“I think I prefer her way of saying it,” his mother said. “Much more effusive.”

They all laughed.

“That’s my girl.” He leaned in to kiss Lisa’s cheek.

She jumped back with wide eyes. His mother’s mouth pursed. Slowly her narrowed gaze moved to Joe, connecting with his and sending a message.

Joe read her doubt all too clearly.

Lisa put her hand on his chest and peeked up at him. “I’m sorry. I’m just so jittery.” She glanced at his parents, focusing on his dad. “I babble when I’m nervous, as you now know. Catering this event is so important to my business. I get dizzy thinking of the potential jobs I could book from all these people.”

“Not to mention meeting us,” his dad said. His friendliness relieved the tension among their group.

Lisa giggled. “Well, I wasn’t going to mention that, but it is pretty scary, trying to win the parents’ approval at the same time as the rest of this.” She squinted toward Joe’s mother. “No wonder I have a migraine.”

“Oh, you poor dear.” His mother tapped his dad’s arm. “Go get my purse.”

She turned back to Lisa as he left. “I have something that works wonders. I don’t usually approve of taking medications, but look who I have to put up with.”

“Humph.” Joe acted offended, but he felt relieved. They’d discovered common ground, even if it was a headache. A woman approached his mom, who stepped away to listen to the lady’s deafening praise for the event.

Lisa pivoted toward him and whispered, “I should have taken you up on your offer.”

He frowned. His offer? “You already have my company’s catering job. I’m really impressed with your work here tonight.”

“No, your other offer.” She leaned closer. “The kiss.”

He blinked, then laughed as her color heightened. “It’s not too late.” He slid his arm down to her waist again and reeled her in flush against his body.

“Joe,” Lisa hissed with a look over her shoulder at his mom. “We can’t kiss here, in front of everybody.”

“Sure we can. What would be more convincing?”

She tried to wriggle free.

“Oooh, keep it up. I like it.”

She jabbed his ribs with her fist. He laughed and let her scoot back an inch.

“I have to go,” his mother said, eyeing them. “Duty calls. It was lovely meeting you.”

“And you,” Lisa returned faintly. As soon as his mother moved out of earshot, she groaned. “That was awful.”

He looked down at her in surprise. “I thought it went pretty well.” He laughed at her expression. “After you stopped talking, anyway.”

“I think she saw us, you know, just now.”

“Yeah.” He frowned and rubbed his side. “Poking me won’t make a very good impression.”

She glared. “I meant that ‘oooh, keep it up’ nonsense.”

“Lighten up. I doubt my mother thinks I’m a virgin.”

Lisa glanced around frantically. “Would you please lower your voice? You might have told her I have kids, but she doesn’t know whether I’m—” she moved close to whisper against his ear “—sexually active.”

“Are you?” This sounded promising. And as oddly unsettling as her breath against his neck. He didn’t like to think of her having sex with her dates, but he’d like to benefit from it if she did. The curious contradiction of his feelings bewildered him.

“Joe.” She rubbed her temple. “You’re exasperating.”

“You can point out my personality flaws later. While we’re practicing that kiss.”

“I have work to do.” She turned toward a serving table.

He followed. “When you’re done, I’ll take you home.”

“I brought my own car, remember?”

“Lisa.” He stopped her retreat by clasping her arm. “You know it’s a good idea. Consider what a fiasco tonight could have been, with you jumping away from me.” Remorse flashed in her eyes. With a little persuasion, he’d taste her sweetness by midnight. He should feel guilty, but healthy male interest squashed any chance of that. “I’ll help you do dishes.”

Lisa’s mouth turned up in a reluctant smile. She glanced toward the loaded dessert table. “I accept.”

The shrill tapping of silverware on glass made them turn.

“Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please.” A dark-haired woman in a long, glittering aqua dress smiled from behind a microphone, setting aside the fork and goblet she’d used to gain notice. A small presentation area had been set up on a wooden stage two feet above the main floor. As the chatter died down, she continued, “I think we can all agree that tonight has been a tremendous success.”

Joe and Lisa joined in the applause.

“So without further ado, let me introduce the woman responsible for our having such a wonderful year, President of the Howard Garden Society, Alice Riley.”

Joe put two fingers to his mouth and whistled. Lisa’s eyes fixed on his mother.

“Thank you,” his mom said to the crowd. “As Lainey noted, it’s been an exciting evening. We’ll present the awards in a moment, but first I want to thank the people responsible for this success tonight. I especially want to thank Lainey Perkins and her committee for putting together a gala event.”

Joe split his attention between Lisa and his mother as the committee members were named and the attendees clapped politely. Lisa had turned waxier than the gardenias.

“I’m so glad Lainey and her crew acquired the services of Goodies to Go. Lisa Meyer, the owner, outdid herself with those wonderful creations.” His mom gestured toward Lisa.