Some Like It Charming

Four


Ethan’s grandma had called Mackenzie early the next day. Ellen had said, “We’ve got some work to do today, I hear. We’ll turn you in to a pretty picture to hang on my grandson’s arm.”

“Is that the goal for today? Let’s just aim for no one questioning whether this engagement is real. I don’t need to look like a Barbie.”

Ellen had chuckled. “Good. Then in that case we’ll go out, have some fun, spend some money, eat some lunch. He doesn’t need a Barbie hanging on him, he needs a grown woman walking beside him. We’ll make sure he gets what he needs.”

It had gone worse than Mackenzie could have possibly imagined, with her somehow ending up with blond locks worthy of a pin-up. All it had taken was one look from Christine O’Connor that plainly said no one in their right mind would believe that Ethan had fallen for her, and wham, she’d allowed the stylist do whatever he wanted.

Mackenzie’s only consolation was that Christine had hated the transformation just as much as she did. And probably for the same reason. Mackenzie hadn’t known hair could scream sex but this hair did.

After escaping from the stylist she headed to work. She quickly tamed the fluffiness as best she could, wrapping her hair into a bun. Maybe she could deal with the color. Maybe she could wear a hat.

She grabbed a baseball cap out of her batting bag and instantly felt better. She wasn’t willing to test whether blonds really did have more fun. She was way too sure that they did.

Mackenzie entered her office, thinking this was the last time she’d ever come here. She started boxing up seven years of hard work and was unsurprised when Rob came in, sitting down in her uncomfortable chair like it was a cozy sofa.

“You’re marrying the boss? I didn’t see that one coming.”

You and me both, she thought.

She tried a smile. “He wore me down.”

“There was a bet going on how long it would take for you two to sleep together, but no one guessed you’d ever get engaged.”

She closed her eyes. She’d been very, very right about having to quit. She would never be able to show her face here again.

Rob said, “I lost a packet. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

She looked up, trying to decide if that was a compliment or an insult. His smirk made her lean toward insult. “You should leave before you say something really stupid.”

He stood up slowly. “Probably.” He pointed to the chair he’d just vacated. “Take that thing with you before it injures someone.”

She shut the door behind him and leaned against it. She wasn’t really sad about leaving. She had no one she even wanted to say good-bye to. Rob was as close to a friend as she could call a co-worker, and she wouldn’t exactly miss the guy. But it felt like a closing. This chapter of her life was ending, a situation she’d been working toward for quite some time now, but the suddenness of it kept catching her off-guard. Technically, she had six weeks left. As far as anyone knew, she was only taking a vacation. But she knew she’d never come back.

A bet about their sex life? Ugh. Ethan was going to pay for that.

She finished packing her things, smiling slightly when she took out her hidden stash of chocolate. She’d miss that. She’d miss Ethan waltzing in and disrupting her life. She shook her head. This time he’d made it a doozy.

She threw the boxes into the trunk of her car, looking longingly at her batting bag. She could go spend an hour at the batting cages or she could go home and wash the gunk out of her hair and prep for an evening filled with Ethan O’Connor and camera-wielding crazies.

She sighed, slamming the trunk. She was not getting paid nearly enough.



Cassandra greeted her at the door with her mouth hanging open. “Well, that’s different.”

“Here’s a general rule. Don’t get your hair done with the mother of the man you’re pretending to marry when she hates your guts. Even if she knows it’s pretend.”

“It doesn’t look bad. It’s just different.”

“As different as she could make me without surgery.”

Mackenzie flipped the bathroom light on and inspected her now blond hair. “This was not what she was going for. She should have taken me to a stylist not quite so versed in bleached blonds.”

Cassandra started opening drawers and piling makeup on the counter. “With this color you’re going to need more dramatic makeup. Your usual boring look will wash you out.”

“Please. I have spent the afternoon with a woman who would like to run me over with her car. Can I get a little less lip from my best friend?”

“What’s a less insulting word for it. Demure? Your usual demure makeup will wash you out with this color.”

“Don’t make me look like a clown.”

“I will be the judge of that. You think any lipstick brighter than nude is clownish.” Cassandra patted the toilet seat cover. “Sit. Let me work my magic.”

“I need to wash my hair first. Tame this wild beast.”

“Don’t wash it out!”

“I look like a floozy.”

Cassandra shook her head. “You look gorgeous. Now that I’ve gotten over the shock. Very Anna Nicole Smith.”

“Oh, that’s going to win you this conversation.”

Cassandra pushed Mackenzie down. “I meant from the early years, but I can see how you wouldn’t like that comparison. Even if you have caught yourself a very rich, older gentleman.”

“Ethan is probably only five years older than me; emotionally he’s a good ten years behind. And I haven’t caught him. If anyone is dangling on the end of a hook, it’s me.” She stood up. “I’m taking a quick shower. I can’t get rid of the blond, today at least, but the poofiness has to go.”

Cassandra put her hands back on Mackenzie’s shoulders, blocking her path. “Come on. Give Ethan Howell O’Connor a taste of the magnificence you hide behind sensible. And give the tabloids some good pictures. All they’ve got right now is you sweaty and dusty.” Cassandra kept a firm grip on her shoulders. “His mother will hate it.”

Mackenzie rolled her eyes. “You are very unsubtle.”

“But, unfortunately for you, also very right.”

Mackenzie closed her eyes, giving in. “You know, she’s turning into my Achilles’ heel. This is exactly how I got my hair turned Anna Nicole blond in the first place.”

Cassandra made up Mackenzie’s face and even if Mackenzie hated how bright and perky she looked, she had to admit she did look good. And not anything like herself.

Cassandra said, “And I’ve got something every woman who finds herself accidentally dating a celebrity playboy needs. Be right back.”

Mackenzie yelled after her, “If you come back with a box of condoms, I’m going to strangle you.”

Cassandra came back in. “I wish I’d thought of that. But no. Something even more practical.”

She held up an elastic bodysuit. “Spanx. Every woman in L.A. owns a pair. They pass them out when you move in.” Cassandra dropped it into Mackenzie’s hands. “I don’t know how they missed you but trust me. Everything wears better over Spanx. And these pictures will be haunting you forever. I’ll get your outfit.”

Mackenzie squeezed herself into the Spanx, ignoring with all her might the thought of being splashed on the front of every tabloid. The Enquirer had been bad enough.

Cassandra handed her a slinky gray dress.

Mackenzie took it reluctantly. “What’s this?”

“It was in the bag you brought home.”

“No, I got pants. Classic pants and a nice blouse.”

“This was the only thing in the bag.”

Mackenzie glared at the offending fabric. “Ellen.”

“Ellen has good taste. Put it on.” Cassandra shut the door.

Mackenzie shouted through the door, “I can’t wear this. He dates models.” She looked down at herself. “I will not compare well.”

“La-la. Can’t hear you. Put it on and then we’ll see.”

Mackenzie glared at herself in the mirror. Was this all worth a million dollars?

No.

But she threw the dress over her head anyway.

She flung the door open without looking in the mirror.

A slow smile spread across Cassandra’s face as she inspected Mackenzie. “So, this is what money can do. And you compare just fine.”

“I’m too muscular for a dress like this.”

Years of softball had left her with nicely toned arms and too-wide shoulders. She spent a lot of effort minimizing her upper body and this dress hugged her body, leaving her exposed and self-conscious.

Cassandra shook her head. “No. You look fabulous. The Spanx is pushing everything up. This is what all the celebs do.”

“I look like a football player.”

“Trust me, you do not. And you know, you don’t look anything like a waify, breastless model either. What’s the opposite of frail?”

“Substantial?” Mackenzie walked back into the bathroom to look at herself. “Sturdy? I look sturdy.”

Cassandra made a face. “No. You look capable. Entirely capable of handling Ethan O’Connor.”

“Oh, great. I look like a school mistress.”

“The hottest school mistress I’ve ever seen. No one will doubt for a moment that you hooked Ethan Howell O’Connor.”

“Give me some pants. I don’t want to look like a hot school mistress. I want to look like a serious, professional woman.”

“Who happened to get her paws on Ethan O’Connor?”

Mackenzie made a face. “It does seem a stretch. But maybe I can bring some much needed seriousness to his image. Instead of dragging mine through the mud.”

“Go look in the full-length in my bedroom and then tell me you want pants.”

Mackenzie made a beeline for the bedroom. Oh, she’d want pants alright. And a jacket. She would feel so much more comfortable in a nice jacket or blazer. Or shawl. Anything.

Mackenzie found the full-length, adjusting it so could see herself from head to toe. She looked at the woman in the mirror and wanted to vomit. Cassandra was right, no one would be looking at her shoulders. This was what happened when a playboy got his mitts on you. You found yourself turned into a sex object.

Her newly blond hair hung in waves past her shoulders, looking as if gravity didn’t exist anywhere near her head. Her Spanxed body was pinched and pushed up as far as it was physically possible in two very prominent areas. She turned to the side, inspecting her now extremely perky butt and dreamed about pinstripes and kitten heels.

The only good thing that could be said about the dress was that her skin was at least covered. And it was a dark gray.

And her strappy high heels were silver. She’d picked those out herself and they made her legs look longer. She twirled, the material of the dress flaring out. If she pretended it wasn’t her, she could admire it. Her legs did look pretty good.

And with her blond hair she was nearly unrecognizable. You’d have to look close to know it was her. For one moment she thought she might be able to pull this off without destroying her reputation and sense of self.

And then the doorbell rang and she thought, Who am I kidding? She was engaged to Ethan Howell O’Connor. She was going to have to change her name and move out of the country when this farce was finished.

She went to answer the door but Cassandra had beaten her to it. Ethan held Cassandra’s hand in his own and was smiling down into her eyes. She was looking up with a stupid expression on her face and Mackenzie knew he had conquered one more hapless female.

She couldn’t really fault Cassandra. He was dressed in a dark gray suit, a light lavender shirt and silver tie, and he looked expensive and sexy. Mackenzie couldn’t help but think that she liked him better in a short-sleeve t-shirt and sweats.

He looked up when she walked into the room and his mouth fell open. His eyes widened as he looked at her hair, then he looked down at her legs. “I’ve never seen you in a dress before.”

He blinked and shook his head. “I mean, you look beautiful. Ellen told me what colors to wear, but neglected to mention the change to your hair.”

He stepped toward her, reaching for her hands and holding them wide so he could see her dress. Cassandra stepped behind him, widening her eyes and fanning herself. She mouthed, “He’s hot!”

Mackenzie ignored her and glared at Ethan.

He smiled. “Truly. You look lovely.”

She pursed her lips. “I’m going to change into pants. I don’t know what your grandmother was thinking. She said she wasn’t going to turn me into a Barbie.”

He chuckled and pulled her hand through his arm. “Cranky already? Good thing I brought you a Twix. It’s in the limo.”

“Limo?”

“We’re celebrating our engagement. The limo keeps my hands free.”

She glared at him as he pulled her out the door and he turned around to wink at Cassandra. “Don’t wait up.”



Ethan ushered Mackenzie out to the waiting limo, trying not to stare at her legs or her hair. Or any points in between. He’d seen legs before, for God’s sake.

But never hers.

And her suddenly blond hair was throwing him off balance. He could tell by Mackenzie’s cranky glare that she was not happy with the transformation.

He’d have to ask his grandmother how that had happened. Call him psychic, but he thought it would be better not to bring up today’s shopping trip.

Ethan helped her into the limo, adjusting his pants before he got in. There wasn’t going to be any problem showing some heat for the paparazzi. Maybe that’s what his grandmother had been thinking.

Of course, he might be feeling the heat, but Mackenzie was looking antagonistic. She sat with her arms folded across her chest, staring out the window. Trying to explode cars with her gaze.

He held a Twix out to her. “A sweet for my sweet?”

When she reached for it, he pulled back. “Smile first. We’re engaged. We’re supposed to be happy, not homicidal.”

“Do you know what I’ve done today? Emptied my office, listened to three people wonder at our sex life, sat in a chair getting my hair dyed for three hours, and spent an uncomfortable lunch with your mother. I’m exhausted and you want a smile? You’re lucky I don’t stab you in the eye with my keys.”

He handed her the Twix. “Here. We can stop and get more if that doesn’t do the trick.”

He reached into his suit pocket and handed her a cellphone. “And here. Welcome to the twenty-first century.”

Mackenzie stared at it glumly. “Great. Just what I’ve always wanted.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know how you’ve done all your sales without a cellphone.”

“I sit at my desk and don’t do anything else until the day is done. It’s too easy to allow distractions to intrude when I have a cellphone.”

“I won’t argue with the results. But what about your personal life?”

“Personal is for after work. I like to keep things separate.”

“I’ve noticed.”

She flung her hand out, waving it towards Ethan and the limo. “Look what happens when I don’t. I play one little softball game and I get pictures of me splashed on the front of the National Enquirer and then fake engaged to my boss. Talk about mixing business with personal.”

“I thought you were going to say mixing business with pleasure.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Did you?”

Ethan laughed. “It was a good game of softball. Almost makes everything that’s come after it worthwhile.”

She huffed in annoyance. “I didn’t even win. It wasn’t worth it at all.”

“Maybe next time. Now you know to wear short shorts.”

“Or maybe glue your mouth shut.”

“How about we compromise and say both?”

“I might wear some short shorts if it would glue your mouth shut.”

He looked down at her legs, her toes peeking out of her shoes. He could think of something better than glue to keep his mouth occupied. And he was wondering how he was going to talk her into it when he looked back up and met her eyes.

She fidgeted in her seat and turned to look out the window again. He watched her ignore him and then smiled. He’d expected a smack-down. A fidget was more than he’d ever gotten from Mackenzie before. Maybe getting her out of her element would work in his favor, and he was definitely one to push his luck. Especially where the unflappable Mackenzie was concerned.

The limo pulled up to the restaurant and satisfaction filled Ethan when he saw the sidewalk lined with cameras. Pictures of his new fiancé would be everywhere by tomorrow.

Mackenzie jumped when a movie star and his wife walked by and Ethan said, “If you want pictures taken in L.A., this is where you eat. Oscar campaigns, rumors of a breakup that need defending, rumors of an engagement you need to confirm.” He smiled at her. “Come here, give them some pictures, and they leave you alone the rest of the time. Usually.”

“You live in a strange world.”

“I’ve learned to work around it. Now show me your happily engaged face.”

She looked at him.

He said, “Come on, you’re supposed to be happy. After five long years, we’ll finally be together.”

“You wore me down, remember? You’re supposed to be happy. I’m supposed to be horrified by all this attention.”

“You’ve certainly got that look down. But you can’t go out scowling like that. Everybody wants to see us happy.”

Mackenzie looked skeptical. “Just who is everybody? And why do we care what they want?”

“Everybody is everybody. And I care because if I wake up to one more quote from an ex maligning my bedroom technique I will have to go into hiding with my mother and grandma. I’d rather go into hiding with you.” He glanced at her attempt at a smile. “Just barely. Now, smile.”

“I am.”

“That is not a smile. That look will send my mother running.”

Mackenzie let out a puff of air and tried again. “There. Is this better?”

He looked at her dubiously. “I know I’ve seen you smile before. This is just baring your teeth.”

Ethan pulled out his wallet and took out a folded piece of paper. He handed it to her and she gingerly opened it. “See, you were smiling here.”

“Why do you have a copy of the National Enquirer in your wallet?”

“Look at us, Mackenzie. Just look.”

“I would really rather not.”

He scooted over to sit next to her. “This is what people want to see. Whatever ‘it’ is, we’ve got it. I’m getting hot and bothered just looking at the pictures.”

“Stop it.” She thrust the paper back at him.

Ethan took the paper, holding on to her hand. “You know what I’ve never done before? Kissed my fiancé.”

Mackenzie reared back in alarm. “Yes, you have. Right before you announced to the world I was engaged to you. And then right after we signed the pre-nup.”

He stroked her hand and murmured, “Oh, yes. How did I forget those? Maybe because neither was a real kiss.”

“There won’t be any real kisses. This is all fake, remember?”

“It’s not all fake.” He looked into her eyes. “Here’s the deal. You can come out of the car with me, smiling. Or you can kiss me.”

“I’m smiling!”

He shook his head. “Sadly, that is not a smile.”

Ethan hooked his arm around her waist, pulling her towards him, and she flattened her hands against his chest. She said, “This was not in any part of our agreement.”

“I don’t know why we didn’t address it then. I tried, if you’ll remember.”

“There was nothing to address, then or now.”

His lips touched hers and she jerked her head back.

He slid his hand up her back and into her hair, and he held her head still as his lips touched hers again. His tongue tickled the seam of her lips and she kept them firmly shut. He looked at her through lidded eyes and found her looking back at him. He trailed kisses across her cheek to her ear.

He whispered, “You look beautiful. But I liked your hair brown.”

Mackenzie whispered back, “It’s your mother’s fault.”

“Try not to listen to my mother, would you?”

“I could probably do that.”

“Good. Now can we stop talking about her?”

Mackenzie leaned back slightly. “You’re the one who brought her up.”

“I did? My mistake.”

She laughed and he took advantage of her open mouth. She tasted like chocolate and smelled like woman. It was kryptonite to his self-control and when she stopped fighting and let his tongue enter her mouth, he forgot where they were.

She mumbled against his lips. “This is a bad idea.”

“The worst I’ve ever had.”

She sighed slightly and leaned into him. “As long as you realize that.”

“Oh, I do. I really, really do.”

Mackenzie gave a breathy chuckle and Ethan gripped her thigh, pulling her leg over his hip until she was nearly straddling him and her dress was riding dangerously high.

He circled the back of her thighs with his hands, his fingers grazing the apex of her legs.

Her breath whooshed out and he doubled down, one hand moving up to cup her butt and pull her even closer. He slid his other fingers lightly up and down.

She murmured, “I’m pretty sure this counts as sexual harassment.”

“Absolutely. Be sure and tell the judge that you like to be on top.”

Mackenzie leaned against him heavily, her mouth fighting his for dominance. He bit her lip, then sucked lightly, easing the sting.

Her hands fisted in his hair, pulling slightly, and he grinned against her mouth.

He gripped her hips, pushing her down onto his lap, rubbing his erection against her, and her breath caught. Ethan’s fingers tightened, digging into her flesh, and then moved north.

His hands roamed higher and higher, searching for the top of her panties, until her dress was pushed to her waist. He tore his mouth from hers and looked down at what his fingers had been trying to tell his brain. He wasn’t getting into this woman’s underpants.

He growled, “Goddamn Spanx.”

He thought about trying to rip the offending garment off but even in his lust-induced haze he realized the futility of that. He looked around wildly. His keys? Could he hack it off with his keys?

Mackenzie dropped her head onto his shoulder and whispered, “Ethan.”

He damn near exploded right then.

He tipped his head back and took a deep breath. Then another.

She tried to climb off him and he wrapped an arm around her waist, securing her to him while he breathed. In and out.

A paparazzo sidled up to the limo and tried to look through the window, and Ethan remembered where they were and what they were supposed to be doing.

Ethan ran his hand down her arm and tangled her fingers with his own.

After a moment spent getting himself back under control, he pulled back and looked at her critically. He pulled her dress back down, swiped a thumb under her lips and wiped away the remnants of her lipstick, then nodded, satisfied.

He said, “Okay, forget the smile. Looking dazed and ruffled will work just fine.”

And he opened the door and pulled her out into the flashing cameras.



Mackenzie sat in her car with Cassandra, watching the circus that was now her street. Cassandra whistled. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Run them all over?”

“Could work, but then you’d go to jail. You probably would have to give Mr. O’Connor his million back for nonperformance. You need some bodyguards.”

“Dinner last night was supposed to make them all go away and leave me alone.”

“I’d say it didn’t work.”

Mackenzie blew her breath out. “What if we went through my neighbor’s yard and snuck in the back door?”

“Might work.”

“Or we go in pedal to the metal, horn blaring, and see how many don’t get out of the way in time.”

“I vote sneaking in the back.”

“Yeah.” Mackenzie reversed the car. “This might not work, but I don’t think they can come onto the property. Right? Trespassing, right?”

“This could end with a picture of you climbing the fence in tomorrow’s papers.”

“God. Do you know how much I hate Ethan Howell O’Connor at this moment?”

Cassandra looked at her out of the corner of her eye. “Mm-hm.”

They parked in front of her neighbor’s house, sneaked through the gate and headed for the back fence.

Cassandra looked around. “They don’t have a dog, right?”

“Pretty sure.”

“Oh, you’re a riot.”

They stopped at the fence and looked up. Cassandra said, “If this doesn’t work, we are calling Ethan and telling him to send some bodyguards. Deal?”

Mackenzie clenched her teeth. “I am not calling him. So you’d better get yourself over this fence.”

Mackenzie jumped, grabbing the top and pulling with all her might, her feet trying to run up the side of the fence.

Cassandra yelled, “Stop flailing and I’ll push you over!”

She gave an almighty push and Mackenzie went over the top and landed with a thud.

A shout rang out from the front and Cassandra yelled again. “Go, go, go! Don’t stop! Zigzag!”

Mackenzie raced to the back door, her key in her hand, and flung open the door. She looked behind her to find no Cassandra and slammed and locked the door.

She leaned against it, laughing. Then groaned. She was a thirty-year-old woman, for God’s sake. And this was her house!

A loud ringing made her jump. It took her a second to realize it was her new cellphone.

She answered and Cassandra said, “I can’t get over the fence. I’m going to try the front. Watch for me, will you?”

“They’re going to eat you alive.”

“We’ll see. Just be ready for me.”

“Okay.”

Cassandra said, “You know, you’ll have to thank Ethan for the cellphone. It’s handy being able to just call you up.”

“Oh, yeah. When you need to sneak into your own home, it’s necessary to have a cellphone on you. Makes life so much easier.”

“It really does.”

“You could have just called my home phone.”

“Huh.” Cassandra hung up and Mackenzie nervously walked to the front room. She peaked between the blinds to find cameras pointed and clicking on her house. She knew, knew, they couldn’t see her, but she stepped back anyway.

A few minutes later a knock sounded and she let Cassandra in, making sure no part of her could be photographed.

Mackenzie locked the door. “You just waltzed up the front path?”

“I waved. They didn’t take too many pictures of me. I guess pictures of Ethan O’Connor’s fiancé’s best friend don’t pay all that well.”

“I hate you.”

“As much as you hate Ethan, hm?”

“Just about.”

“So, not at all.”

Mackenzie looked at her in surprise. “What do you mean, not at all?”

“I’ve seen the pictures. There’s not a lot of hate going on between you two.”

“Okay, I was playing softball against a worthy opponent. Of course I was having a good time.”

Cassandra laughed at her. “Good one. But I was talking about last night’s pictures.”

Mackenzie checked again that the door was bolted, then headed for the bedroom. “Ugh. They’re out already?”

“Yep. They got some good ones.”

“I don’t want to know. Did you purposefully look for them?”

“Of course I did. I wanted to see how it went. Plus, I like looking at him. I spent all last night looking him up on the computer. I can’t decide if he looks better in real life or in pictures.” Cassandra pretended to shiver, then said, “He definitely smells better. You’re going to have to find out what cologne he was wearing last night so I can spray some on my pillow. It made my insides go all mushy and my dreams go naughty.”

Mackenzie tried not to remember how her insides had gone all mushy. And she hadn’t needed to wait for sleep for the night to go naughty. But she would happily blame losing her brain on his cologne. It was better than any other alternative.

Mackenzie pulled a suitcase out from under her bed while Cassandra opened her closet and grimaced. “Let’s see. It looks like your choices are work clothes, boring work clothes, or hideous work clothes. Is he giving you a clothing allowance or something? Because I just can’t see Ethan O’Connor’s fiancé wearing any of this.”

Mackenzie poked her head over Cassandra’s shoulder. “It’s not that bad. It’s professional.”

“And you are no longer a professional. Now you’re a celebrity.”

“For six weeks.”

“Okay. What are you going to wear for six weeks?” Cassandra leered at her. “Unless you will be wearing nothing. I could get behind that.”

“No, there will be none of that.” Why did she have to keep saying that?

“Mm-hm. So what’s that one-woman man going to do for six weeks?”

“I guess he’ll just have to do what every other man does when he’s got a fake fiancé. Invest in some Playboys.”

Cassandra laughed. “I wonder if you can still get the ones with Anna Nicole.”

Mackenzie glared at her. “I am going to the stylist this afternoon to get this changed back to brown.”

“If he’s any good, and he is, he won’t do it. Bad for your hair.”

“Oh, he’s going to. Even if I have to threaten him with Christine O’Connor. I can’t go to New York looking like this. This is California hair.”

Cassandra started to laugh, then stopped. “You’re totally right. This is California hair.” She looked at Mackenzie appraisingly. “I need to get me some California hair. Do you think California hair could turn a gay man straight?”

Mackenzie squeezed her hand. “Probably not, but it sure would make him wish it could.”

Cassandra grabbed a lock of Mackenzie’s hair and held it across her forehead. “It might make me care less that he doesn’t want to marry me and impregnate me with his hot, glistening body. Give me the name of that stylist.”

“Want me to give you the thousand bucks it cost as well?”

Cassandra choked. Then dropped Mackenzie’s hair. “Eh. I’ve always got my dreams.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “And now I have two leading men. Gonna have to juggle them, I think. Even in my dreams I don’t want Shane getting a peek at Mr. Charming.”

Cassandra perused the closet and Mackenzie watched her. She finally said, “You’re making yourself miserable about Shane. You need to move on.”

Cassandra let out a laugh. “Tell me how to move on.”

Mackenzie shook her head. She’d never been in love. Had never wanted to be. “I don’t know how. But I think you need to. You’re not going to find anyone else if you keep mooning over Shane.”

“I don’t want to give him up. I like him and I love him. And if that means I am going to die unmarried and childless, then I will.”

“You know I’m the last person who would tell you marriage and family is all there is.”

Cassandra pointed a finger at her. “You don’t want to get married. You don’t even want to date.”

“I don’t. But I think you do.”

Cassandra took a deep breath. “Maybe I want him more than I want some mythical promise about undying love. And maybe I want children, but then I look at the reality and I think maybe not. What I have right now is better than that gigantic maybe.”

She started ripping clothes off hangars. “He can’t give me everything I need? Well, no man can. There’s always something you wish you could change but it’s not a dealbreaker.”

“You’re telling me this isn’t a dealbreaker? He’s gay.”

Cassandra shrugged, throwing clothes into the suitcase. “I guess it’s not my dealbreaker.”

Mackenzie pulled the clothes back out and started folding them before placing them neatly back inside. “And if he finds someone else?”

“It will probably kill me. But I have to think that whoever he falls in love with I’ll probably like, too. He can find a lover, he can get married. But I’ll still be part of him.”

Mackenzie looked at the ferocious look on her friend’s face. She knew Shane loved Cassandra and would never purposefully hurt her. But talk about a hopeless love triangle. Mackenzie could only hope that if Shane ever found a man he loved enough to marry that Cassandra didn’t take a dive off the nearest overpass. Or push the newbie off.

Cassandra held up a short, colorful dress. She stared Mackenzie in the eye, daring her to continue the conversation about Shane. “What is this horrible monstrosity?”

Mackenzie said, “It’s an authentic Hawaiian muumuu. It’s very comfortable. I just throw it over leggings on the weekend.” Mackenzie held out a hand for it. “I’ll take it with me.”

“No way in hell. I’m burning this.” Cassandra eyed it, then Mackenzie. “Are you a virgin? Do you want to die one?”

“No. I think it’s cute.”

“It’s like every fashion decision you make is made to repel men.” Cassandra grabbed her hand and dragged her to the living room.

Cassandra sat down at the computer and pulled up a celebrity site. She pointed to the dress Mackenzie had worn last night. “This is cute and sexy.” She pointed to the muumuu. “This is not. See the difference?”

Mackenzie took one look at last night her, then headed for the couch to lie down. “Oh, God.”

Cassandra looked at the pictures. “You look so. . . flustered. What were you doing in that limo?”

“That’s what everyone is going to be thinking. That we were doing something.”

Cassandra leaned closer to the screen and squinted. “Where did your lipstick go?”

“He kissed me, okay? He kissed me.”

“Mmm. I bet he’s a good kisser.”

Mackenzie tried not to remember. “He’s had enough practice.”

“You know what they say. Practice makes perfect.”

It did. It really, really did.

Mackenzie said, “All I can say is thank God for Spanx. The man’s got hands like an octopus.”

Cassandra turned to look at her. “Does he? Good octopus or bad octopus?”

Mackenzie stared at the ceiling.

Cassandra said, “Good octopus. And why are you thanking God for a slightly evil-but-genius item of clothing?”

Mackenzie muttered, “It’s a modern-day chastity belt.”

Cassandra started grinning. “Went that far, huh? I’m going to have to call up the makers of Spanx and tell them they’ve got a new marketing angle. ‘Spanx. Keeps it in your pants.’”

Mackenzie tried not to laugh but she couldn’t keep it in. “Can I take it to New York with me?”

Cassandra shook her head. “Uh-uh. I need it, although not as a chastity belt. And I don’t want a repeat of last night. One of us is going to have to get lucky with him, and I’m realistic enough to know it’s going to be you.”

“I’ll just buy my own.”

“Spoilsport. But I don’t think they sell them in New York. They’re against the law there.”

Mackenzie smiled at her. “Why aren’t you on my side? I don’t want to do something stupid with him.”

“Why not? You can be stupid once in your life. Be smart later.”

Mackenzie sat up. “I don’t know why I even try with you.”

“Just remember when you’re trapped under him, sweaty and ready to scream his name, that I am all for it.”

Mackenzie rolled her eyes. “Let’s go finish packing.”

Cassandra grimaced. “Let’s not. They have shopping in New York. Good shopping. See if he’ll buy you a decent wardrobe. Tell him you’ll trade sexual favors for clothing.”

“This is not Pretty Woman.”

“But it could be, if you played your cards right.”

They made quick work of it, Cassandra making disparaging remarks about her taste in clothing and shoes, and Mackenzie stuffing her muumuu in the suitcase when Cassandra wasn’t looking.

Cassandra hefted it up, shaking her head. “This isn’t going over the back wall. You’re going to have to call Ethan to send some reinforcements.”

Mackenzie rolled it out to the living room. She wasn’t calling him, ever. If she could get through the next six weeks without looking at him, speaking to him, or being in the same room with him, she would give him back his million dollars.

Cassandra peaked out the front window. “You’re going to have to call him.”

“It’s not happening.”

Cassandra held out her hand. “I’ll call him for you.”

Mackenzie elbowed her aside and peaked out the window herself. She cursed. “There’s even more of them.”

Cassandra beckoned for the phone. “I assume he put his number in there, right? Let’s just call him up. He can make everything better.”

Mackenzie took one long look outside, trying to plot an escape route, then gave up. She slapped the phone into Cassandra’s waiting hand.

Cassandra hit speed dial, grinning when it pulled up Ethan’s number, then waited.

Mackenzie said, “Maybe he won’t pick up.”

Cassandra looked at her with pity. “Mm-hm. The man bought you a cellphone and put his number on speed dial. He’ll pick up.”

She pointed to the phone and mouthed, “See.”

Cassandra listened for a moment with a dreamy look on her face, then said, “I would love to but this is Cassandra. Probably Mackenzie would tell you to stick that somewhere the sun don’t shine because she’s a little cranky right now. We’re trapped in her house by the paparazzi.”

She was silent, her face going soft and stupid, and then she laughed. She glanced at Mackenzie. “That’s a good idea. We’ll be waiting.”

Cassandra listened for one more moment, then laughed again. “Bye-bye, Ethan.”

She hung up, sighing happily, and Mackenzie said, “You’re pathetic.”

“His voice. Doesn’t it make you think of silk sheets and sliding around on top of them?”

“No.” Mackenzie held her hand out for the phone. “What did he say?”

Cassandra gave it to her, then slid down into a boneless heap on the couch. “Just let me enjoy this for a minute, okay?”

“What did he say.”

Cassandra squinted an eye at her. “You are not natural. I need a moment to myself to cool down.”

Mackenzie gave up and left her to her lustful thoughts. She sat down at the computer, clicking through incriminating photos of herself and Mr. Charm-Your-Pants-Off. Maybe she didn’t fall at the sound of his voice, but she sure as hell looked like she’d fallen in that limo.

It was even worse looking at him. He looked disheveled and she knew she’d been the one to do that to him. He’d made her lose her mind last night, the rat bastard. He’d done it on purpose.

Note to self: she was not to let his lips anywhere near hers, ever again.

Cassandra stood and looked over Mackenzie’s shoulder. “Okay, I’m better. I can walk at least. And he said he’s sending a driver to pick us up and he’ll make sure there’s chocolate. I like him. I’d like him even if he didn’t give me goosebumps and make me want to stuff my panties in his pocket.”

“Seriously. He’s just a man.” A beautiful, charming man. The most dangerous force on earth as far as Mackenzie was concerned.

Cassandra shook her head. “Not just a man. He’s the perfect mix of sex and wholesomeness. Even I would marry him and have his babies.”

“You’d give up Shane for Ethan, just like that?”

“Oh, yeah.” She pointed a finger at Mackenzie. “Let him know that, ‘kay? If it doesn’t work out with you, I’m totally available.”

“I’ll let him know.”

Cassandra looked again at the pictures, sighing. “I don’t know how you came out of that limo unspoiled. But I hope you will be before this engagement is over. And tell me all about it.”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

“And I’m going to want d-e-t-a-i-l-s. Like what religion he is.”

Mackenzie turned in her chair. “I am not going to sleep with Ethan. Not.”

Cassandra patted her on the shoulder, then went to stand by the window and wait for the driver. “You know what they say about that river in Egypt. It’s where unexpected babies come from.”

A little bit of Mackenzie’s breakfast came back up at the thought of being Ethan O’Connor’s baby-mama and she flipped the computer off. She didn’t need any reminders of how quickly she’d climbed onto Ethan’s lap.

Obviously she needed a few more reminders to keep Ethan at least ten feet away from her at all times.

And barring that, some reminders to keep her legs together.