Page 6 of At Your Service
“Have a seat. I need to hear more details about this proposed arrangement,” she said.
He’d showed up at her hotel room half an hour after she’d returned from seeingAin’t Too Proudon Broadway. She’d invited him in, anxious to hear what he had to say and if it involved a contract with RGF. She’d changed into black skinny jeans and a red camisole. The ballet flats she’d worn to the theater were still on her feet and the high ponytail she’d pulled her hair into was still intact. Now he was standing—well, he’d just hiked his slacks up a bit before taking a seat on the couch—looking even sexier than he had when she’d bumped into him at his building.
“I’m offering you a six-week contract to work exclusively with RGF. Think of it as sort of a test run for a possibly longer contract. Our marketing team will get started on a formal announcement to let our current customers know we’re adding a new feature to their shopping experience. You’ll be in touch with members of my tech team on linking At Your Service to our online store. After customers make a purchase, they’ll be immediately routed to your app to open an account and get started with accessorizing their outfit. Win-win for both of us.”
She didn’t have to force herself to keep her gaze trained on him. Major Gold was a lovely man to look at. Six feet two and a half inches of lean muscle and gorgeous man. The light mustache accentuated the medium thickness of his lips. Dark low-cropped hair gave his tawny skin a bronze glow, while the Italian suit he wore fit every inch of his well-toned body to perfection. And he still smelled good at almost ten-thirty at night.
Nina cleared her throat. “First, regarding exclusivity. I already have contracts with two designers. They’re small and in no way competition to RGF.”
His hands looked strong, thick veins roped across the backs as they rested on his thighs. “We can probably work with that as long as you don’t sign any other clients for the six-week term.”
“Second. You also said something along the lines of me pretending to be your fiancée for six weeks. That’s the part I’m not sold on, Mr. Gold—”
Actually, that was the part that confused the hell out of her.
“Major,” he interrupted.
Fine. She could call him by his first name. He was sitting just a few inches away from her, in a hotel room. This was a pretty familiar setting, so first names made sense. Or at least she wanted all of this to make sense.
“Why do you need a fake fiancée, Major? And why do you think I’d fit that role?”
Because she didn’t. Before her meeting, she’d done preliminary research on the family executives at Ronald Gold Fashions. She knew the father, Ron Gold, Jr., in addition to being CEO, was also the chief designer at RGF. She knew what his three sons did for the company, and that the youngest, and only girl in the family, was Riley, chief executive of market research and product development. She’d read about the matriarch, Marva Gold, who held a master’s degree in education, served on RGF’s board of directors and was currently developing several scholarship programs for underprivileged students across the US.
Nina’s focus on the family had been solely on where they’d gone to college, what job they did, and how much the company made in just clothing sales last year. She hadn’t bothered with any of the tabloid stories that had come up in the search; they didn’t matter to RGF’s bottom line. And she’d paid even less attention to the many pictures of each of the Gold children that filled the internet. It didn’t matter how they looked—all Nina needed was for them to agree to work with her. It was that simple.
Yet now, Major was sitting too close and the task of focusing on business was becoming much more difficult than it had ever been before.
“Look, I’ll be totally honest with you. The reason I want you to do this is because of how you look.”
Okay, he was going to be candid. Well, that was refreshing.
“And how do I look?”
“Great.” He said the word as if she should have already known.
“I’m not the only great-looking woman in the world. Not even in New York. And you of all people surely know that. You can have any woman you want.”
“I want you,” he said. “I want someone who doesn’t want me and isn’t trying to fool me into getting what she really wants.”
“I would like to work with RGF on a long-term basis, but if I can work with your company, for even six weeks, other larger fashion houses will take that as a gleaming recommendation. My business will take off. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Because she could be candid, too.
“Then say you’ll be my fake fiancée for six weeks. Agree to take this assignment and I’ll have contracts ready for you to sign first thing tomorrow morning.”
He was serious. She’d been sitting there waiting for him to tell her this was all a joke and just go back to talking about her app, but that’s not what was happening. This was real. His offer—every part of it was real.
“What do I have to do? As your fake fiancée, I mean?”
She sat back against the couch and crossed one leg over the other.
“Attend some functions with me, act as if you’re planning a real wedding. Try on lots of gowns from the Golden Bride line, select bridesmaids gowns, and a host of other wedding stuff that our marketing department has planned.”
“That’s all. No kissing. No touching. No...nothing?” She needed to know all the terms, especially since she’d decided earlier that he had very kissable lips. Now, with him talking about fake engagements, kissing him had quickly popped into her mind again.
He paused and chuckled. Then he rubbed a hand over his mustache, down to his clean-shaved jaw, as he shook his head slowly.
“Ah, no, I don’t think any of that’s on the agenda.”
“Then how will people believe we’re really engaged? I’m guessing you want this to be believable. I mean, if not, then what’s the point?”
