The Weekend Girlfriend Part 1

The Weekend Girlfriend.

by Emily Walters.

Chapter 1.

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"Oooh, that man infuriates me! I don't know why I take his abuse!"

I slammed down my phone and put my head in my hands, feeling the all too familiar pounding of my head beginning to take form.

"Because without this job you wouldn't be able to pay your half of the rent," my best friend, Gretchen Yardley, remarked from across the desk. "And I would have to throw you out."

"You wouldn't dare," I laughed, flicking my pen at her. "Who would make sure you always had booze when you need it then?" Gretchen stuck out her tongue and turned back toward the computer screen, leaving me to brood in silence. It was the middle of the afternoon in sunny Texas, the temperatures rising above ninety degrees and forcing the air conditioner to work overtime to cool the office building. The same could be said of my temper right now, as it was boiling hot just like the weather and directed strictly to the man who signed the paychecks.

For the last three years Gretchen and I had worked for Kyle Thornton, one of the best private attorneys in Texas. He didn't take on cases that he couldn't win and that winning didn't come cheap for those clients either. You didn't use him to get out of a DUI, more like to get out of a murder rap. Most people couldn't afford him, yet his caseload was always full, hence the need for two paralegals (Gretchen and me). It wasn't his work ethic, however, that had me wis.h.i.+ng for a bottle of aspirin.

He had called, informing me that he had double-booked himself for this evening with two women and wanted me to cancel one of the dates. "I don't care which one you pick," he had said nonchalantly as if I was picking out a tie. "Just let me know who it was. Try to let her down gently, will you? I might end up needing that cancelled date in the future."

It was harsh, though I doubted he lost any sleep at night over it. And he was telling the truth too. Not only was he the best attorney, he was also one of the hottest bachelors on the circuit. I had to admit that at least, with his dark blond hair and piercing blue eyes, his face chiseled to perfection. Women flushed at the sight of his full lips, the sharp cheekbones and full jaw as well as the way he filled out a tailored suit. Sighing, I forced my thoughts away from my hot-looking boss and looked at the names in front of me, two women that I had no idea who they were.

"Why does he put me in these situations?" I grumbled, pus.h.i.+ng the names aside. "I am neither his personal a.s.sistant nor his matchmaker." I was a paralegal and should be treated as one!

"Kyle had to fire his a.s.sistant, remember?" Gretchen cheerfully replied, her fingers flying over the keyboard. "He slept with her and then, well, you know. She thought she was in love, poor thing. I don't know why the man doesn't hire the male gender. He would save so many broken hearts."

"Well, she was stupid enough if she thought that he was going to treat her any differently than the last. I pity the woman who finally settles him down," I said, thinking about the two names. "Geez, I guess he will go with Rachel tonight. Poor Mich.e.l.le will have to wallow in self-pity until next time."

Reaching for the phone, I pressed the speed dial for Kyle's preferred florist. I would order the poor woman the usual Kyle floral apology arrangement and perhaps a box of chocolates to smooth things over. Kyle could afford it. I just hoped the woman didn't show up to the office. I could only deal with so much.

Hours later, I tucked my feet under me and pulled the fleece blanket tighter around my body as I turned the last page in my sappy romance novel, smiling as always that the guy gave up everything to get his girl. Gretchen was out again with her current boyfriend, Mac. Mac was a gym fanatic much like Gretchen. They met in spin cla.s.s, where everyone looks like they have been hosed down after it's over. It was so not the place to pick up guys, especially for me. The only thing I had ever met in a gym cla.s.s was pain and sweat. While I looked like a holy wreck after one session, Gretchen still looked like she had stepped off the cover of a fitness magazine. Gretchen was a true beauty, built like a supermodel with a head full of curly blond locks and baby blue eyes. While Gretchen was gorgeous, Mac was the far end of that spectrum, a tattoo artist with bulging biceps and shaved head.

"He's fun to be around," Gretchen had shrugged when she had told me about him. "And I can't get over those arms. I mean, he could really pick up a car or something." That was Gretchen, looking for someone who could bodily manipulate a steel pipe with his bare hands.

I was the complete opposite of my friend. My selection of men, what little there was, was based solely on availability. After all, I couldn't afford to be too picky. Unlike Gretchen, I was more of an average height, with a few extra pounds lingering, light brown hair and green eyes. I also didn't have an ounce of gracefulness in my body. Actually, I avoided all activities that required some gracefulness. My last date had decided that ice skating would be fun to try, resulting in a long, awkward night in the ER and my wrist in a cast. Needless to say, that had been our last date.

Sighing, I s.h.i.+fted my weight to burrow down more comfortably as I reached for the next book in line, my only date for the night. At least there would be no qualms when I went to bed, alone.

A sudden banging at the front door caused me to jump with a start, nearly falling off the couch in the process. Looking at the clock, I frowned at the time. It was well after eleven, not the social call time for the few that knew where we lived. Our second-story apartment threw out the possibility of a random visitor and most of our neighbors were up in age, way past their bedtimes. Still, I doubted that it was a burglar. Didn't burglars look for easy targets? Why would one choose the last apartment on the second story anyway?

The knocking sounded again, a little gentler this time and I bit my lip as I looked at the door. A burglar didn't knock, right? Whoever it was, I wasn't going to go to the door empty-handed. Grabbing the first object my hand came to, I snorted with laughter as I looked at what was to be my saving grace, a hardback book. What was I going to do, read them to death?

Sighing, I crossed the living room and opened the door a crack, hoping that the chain lock would give me enough time to beat whoever it was to death with a good mystery. The visitor on the other side of the door surprised me though, the book falling to the floor with a loud thud unheeded as I recognized my visitor.

Chapter 2.

He was in his dark suit and baby blue s.h.i.+rt, perfectly matching the blue of his eyes. I could see the outline of his broad shoulders, the way his coat opened to show his amazingly fit body underneath. Holy hotness. His face however was a mask of anger, his eyes narrowing as he saw me in the crack of the door.

"Dammit, Jessica open the door," he growled, his arm resting on the doorframe. "I need to talk to you, now."

Stunned, I shut the door momentarily to take off the extra lock, wondering what would happen if I chose not to open it. He sounded super p.i.s.sed.

Against my better judgment, I opened it anyway, staring at the red face of my boss with trepidation. Yep, this wasn't a social call. "Can I help you, Mr. Thornton?" I didn't even know that he knew where we lived and he had never let on that he did actually know that information.

"You've screwed me, you know that?" he all but roared as he pushed past me to move inside the foyer/living room. "I mean royally this time."

Shocked at his outburst, I quickly shut the door and leaned against it, wondering if I should go ahead and arm myself. I hadn't ever seen him this angry before, not even when I accidentally spilled coffee all over his court notes on the day of an important case. He still clenched his papers tightly anytime I had coffee in my hand and frankly, I couldn't blame him.

"I'm sorry but I have no idea what you are talking about."

Kyle turned toward me and I went still, crossing my arms over my chest to ward off his stare. Oh great, I thought, my face flaming in embarra.s.sment. He had caught me without a bra on. To others, it was no big deal but I was super self-conscious about my body and my chest was one place I didn't routinely flaunt for any reason. The only time I went without a bra in mixed company was well, in the dark right before I slept with someone. That particular instance hadn't happened in a long time; a really long time. How freaking embarra.s.sing.

Kyle didn't even seem to notice my bra-free chest nor my embarra.s.sment as he started pacing about the living room, his jaw clenched. I tried in vain not to watch him as he paced, my eyes straying to his oh so sinful body encased in what had to be a new suit since I hadn't taken that particular one to the dry cleaners yet. Since he had slept with his last personal a.s.sistant, Gretchen and I had been forced to pick up her slack, including taking his clothes to the cleaners and keeping up with his calendar, until he found time to hire a new one.

He also worked out religiously, his jacket tight across those broad shoulders, the muscles of his biceps outlined as he shoved his hand in his hair. Even though the anger was radiating off him toward me, I was surprised to feel the faint stirrings of desire in my stomach. In the three years I had worked for him, we had never been alone in such a small s.p.a.ce. Boy oh boy, he looked too delicious in those pants.

"Do you know who showed up at the restaurant tonight?" he finally asked.

I took my eyes off of his rear end reluctantly to find him staring at me from across the room. Really? Could he not remember the name of the woman he had just had dinner with? Had he really barged into my private s.p.a.ce to ask me that? "Am I supposed to know this?"

Kyle threw up his hands in the air, muttering something akin to a curse as he glared at me. "Well, it wasn't Rachel! Of course I didn't know that until I called her by the wrong name. Three d.a.m.n times."

I felt my cheeks begin to burn as I thought of how I had been on the phone sending the flowers at the same time that a client had walked into the office, demanding attention. I had been so distracted that I had given the florist the first name on the list, which just happened to be... "Oh dear," I muttered, forgetting all about my braless girls and his tight rear end.

"More like dammit," Kyle added harshly. "I have never been so embarra.s.sed in my life. Do you know we were at Mario's when she threw the champagne in my face? Expensive champagne at that. Do you know how many prominent people were there tonight?"

"I'm really sorry," I started quietly, embarra.s.sed. "I didn't mean to do it on purpose." Mario's was a very expensive restaurant uptown, one that people like me could not even afford to sit at and drink tea. Mario's wasn't a restaurant that gave you anything for free. All of the more prominent people in town dined there frequently, so frequently that their reservations were booked well into the next ten years. Kyle was one of those patrons. No wonder he was so mad.

"Well, I can't be so sure of that," Kyle snapped. "I don't know if you did it on purpose to embarra.s.s me somehow. h.e.l.l, you could be out to ruin me."

My embarra.s.sment turned to anger as his words sank in. He really thought I was out to get him? For three years I had faithfully taken care of him, supporting him in his profession. When he had lost a.s.sistant after a.s.sistant, I was the one who had taken care of his love life, sending flowers to heartbroken women and dealing with the ever present phone calls that followed. Blondes, brunettes, and redheads had cried at my desk, reminding me more of forlorn little girls than the successful women they were, all because of him. I had comforted them, a.s.sured them, and h.e.l.l, even lied to their faces on numerous occasions just to keep them from bothering him. There were times I had felt like a therapist instead of a paralegal. How dare he accuse me of purposely trying to ruin his love life! He did that fine on his own. This was the final straw; I didn't have to deal with this mess anymore.

"That's it," I snapped back, throwing my hands up in the air this time. Kyle stopped his pacing and just stared at me, as if I had grown another head. "I am tired of playing to your love life. I am tired of being the one that has to comfort the next Jane, Paula, or Eve when you double-book your dates."

Kyle started to interject, but I waved him off, my blood boiling. I was on a roll and right now, he could call me b.u.t.ter. "I have a degree; I have talents that require a professional working environment. No wonder you can't keep an a.s.sistant. No one should have to deal with this nonsense." I then looked him square in the eye, my mind racing to the last possible words I thought I would ever say. "I quit."

"Now wait a minute," Kyle said, a surprised expression coming across his face. "You don't have to quit, Jess. Perhaps I overstepped..."

"You have overstepped for the last time," I replied angrily, crossing the apartment to open the door with such force it banged off the wall behind it. "And only my friends call me Jess. You, sir, are not one of them." I watched him rub a hand over his face and through my anger a tiny bit of doubt started to flame as he walked to the door, looking a bit dejected. What was I doing? I needed my freaking job. How would I pay my bills? No doubt he would give me the worst recommendation possible now. Holy h.e.l.l, I had burned this bridge.

"You have to give me one month's notice," he finally said, pausing at the open door to look at me, his face emotionless. "It's in your contract. I have to have sufficient time to replace you."

I nodded tightly, not trusting my voice and he left, leaving me to contemplate what the h.e.l.l just happened. Had I really just quit? Dear Lord, what was I going to do?

"I can't believe you up and quit," Gretchen replied tightly as we sat at our desks the next morning. "What are you going to do now?"

"I don't know," I said quietly, the computer screen blurring in front of me. Gretchen was p.i.s.sed because my brash decision had also hurt my best friend. Without my paycheck, there would be no way we could afford that apartment and unless I found some other job quickly, Gretchen and I would have no choice but to move. That thought was very unsettling with me to say the least. I was hurt but it hurt me more to know I was royally s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g with Gretchen's future as well.

Sighing, I sucked up the tears and clicked on the next job search site. Today was a new day and I had to forge on, starting with the resumes. Maybe I could just leave him off as a reference of past work experience and start all over again. Or maybe I could go to one of his past flames and chalk up a friends.h.i.+p. No doubt they would sympathize with me. Besides, I had all of their contact information in my Rolodex anyway.

The door opened to the office and Kyle walked in, looking splendid as usual in a sharp suit and dress s.h.i.+rt, his blue eyes picking up the moss green of the s.h.i.+rt as they settled on me, causing me to squirm under his stare. Surprisingly, he looked as if he had a rough night as well, his customary clean-shaven face showing a hint of stubble, which instead of making him look horrible, made him look delicious. Maybe it was the guilt he was feeling about the way he treated me, but probably more because he made up with what's her name. Either way, I wasn't going to budge, not this time. My resumes were updated and awaiting delivery. My cardboard box was already picked out.

I forced my gaze elsewhere, back to my computer and pretended I hadn't seen him. I would not break down in front of him. I could do this. He was not the only s.e.xy attorney in town. Well, he was the s.e.xiest but I wouldn't be staying for his s.e.x appeal. c.r.a.p, what was wrong with my hormones?

"Ms. Harwell, may I see you in my office?" he asked quietly, his shadow coming across my desk.

Not surprised, I looked up, my eyes colliding with his intense gaze. Maybe he had changed his mind about my contract, wanting to fire me now. How soon could one draw unemployment anyway? By my calculations, my cookie dough budget wouldn't get me through the week. Uncertain whether to turn tail and run to the nearest grocery store now, I stood, smoothing my professional-looking tan skirt over my knees before following his retreating form. I had always thought his office was a thing of beauty, the ma.s.sive oak desk taking up much of the room. His various diplomas and testaments to his achievements in the community were on display behind him, filling up the built-in shelves that matched the desk. His desk was full of papers and law books, a spillover of the work from the day before. Kyle closed his office door behind me and gestured toward one of his leather chairs that flanked the ma.s.sive desk.

"I want to apologize for my actions last night," he finally said as he perched on the end of his desk next to my chair. "It was highly improper of me to seek you out for my indiscretions. I acted like an a.s.s."

I was inclined to agree, but I stayed silent, knowing that there was an invisible "but" to the apology. That "but" was going to kill me on the spot, make me move back in with my parents. It was going to throw Gretchen out in the street and force her to reside in another, less desirable apartment.

Kyle sighed and looked down at me, causing me to look away at the eye contact. My nerves were on edge, but I resisted tapping my foot. I didn't want him to see I was on edge. I didn't like to be scrutinized, not in this situation, nor did I like being in this office, alone with him. My job was to be preparing his cases with Gretchen, not having an awkward stare-down in his office.

"I'd hate to lose you," he finally admitted, surprising me. "But I respect your decisions. I know I haven't been the easiest employer."

"Thank you, sir," I replied, stealing a look at his face to see if he was laughing at me. Lord, the man was too attractive for his own good, even with the seriousness of his gaze. I found myself longing to run my hand through his dark blond hair and smooth it, to feel the silkiness under my fingertips. I also wanted to touch his jaw, feel the stubble under my fingers. There was nothing s.e.xier than a bit of stubble on a strong jaw. Oh G.o.d, this s.e.xual thinking had to stop, especially about him. Where was this thinking coming from anyway? Sure, Gretchen and I had talked about him and his various attributes in the three years, but I hadn't thought this much into it in a long time. Was it because I didn't have to look at him in a professional manner much longer?

"I do need one more favor however."

It was then I noticed the uneasy look on his face, as if he were uncomfortable at the moment. "It's on the personal nature side of things, I'm afraid."

Chapter 3.

I was rooted on the spot, my face rapidly becoming a fiery shade of red. Personal nature? What could that mean? What had I been doing for the last three years? Surely one couldn't put scheduling dates on one's resume!

"I am a bit embarra.s.sed on having to ask you this," Kyle was saying, running a hand through his tousled hair. "But I have asked everyone and have been turned down by all of them."

Now I was thoroughly confused. Surely he didn't mean anything in that category related to his love life. I mean, I had a Rolodex full of women he could call if he needed a "fix." h.e.l.l, Gretchen might even take him up on his offer, she was more of his type anyway. I hadn't seen any women like me coming through his revolving door that was his love life.

"I guess your a.s.sumptions were right about my love life," he continued, coming to stand before me, a sheepish look on his face. It didn't help that his crotch was at level with my face. Oh Lord, I was going to combust, incinerate in this chair. "Because apparently I have burned quite a few bridges with the women that seemed to know me the best."

"And what does that have to do with me, sir?" I nearly whispered, not trusting my voice. Oh, the suspense was killing me! Did he need a bed partner, a date, a housekeeper?

"I need you to accompany me to my sister's wedding," he finally said, his voice soft. "In North Carolina. They are expecting to meet my new girlfriend."

"Girlfriend? But you don't have one," I blurted out. He hadn't had a steady bed partner since I had started working for him. Didn't one have to stay around at least a month to qualify for a girlfriend? His women tended to only stay around for a week, two at the most if they were lucky or blond.

"I know," Kyle sighed, his shoulders sagging. "I'm sure you know how parents can meddle in your personal life. It was easier to lie." He then looked at me, his face holding a sly smile. "Now I'm truly caught and you owe me."

"How is that?" I squeaked out, a million questions running through my mind. A girlfriend? He wanted me to be his girlfriend? Could I really be hearing him right?

"You ruined my options for a girlfriend when you got those names mixed up," Kyle explained, crossing his fingers over his washboard stomach. "I was planning on proposing the trip to one of the girls last night. Now neither one of them will talk to me."

"Serves you right," I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest. I was finding it hard to drum up sympathy for him. "I feel sorry for you, sir, I really do but there would be no way I could do such a thing. You will have to find someone else."

"I will double your salary for the next month," Kyle interjected, his voice going up a notch. "And write you a glowing recommendation. I'm desperate here."

I hesitated then, thinking of how much the double salary would help out. It could keep me afloat for one, two months. With a little padding in my account, I could take my time finding a job and not worry about having to leave Gretchen or our apartment.

"I'm not one to beg," Kyle continued. "But I will."

The thought of him on his knees in front of me drummed up some dirty thoughts on my part, causing me to flame once more. Geez. "No funny business?" I finally asked, my voice coming out in a squeak. Funny business? What was I, in a 1960s movie? I really should think of my words before they come out of my mouth sometimes!

"Of course not," Kyle answered quickly, clearing his throat. "Strictly in a business sense. Afterward, you are free to go and I will come up with something to tell my family. Considering my luck as of late, that shouldn't be a problem. I just need you to be yourself, as my girlfriend of course."

I could easily think of a million reasons not to do this, my sense of self-worth, my pride, but considering I didn't have a million dollars to fall back on, the choice ultimately wasn't that difficult. "Okay," I finally said. I was going to regret this, I just knew it.

"This is craziness, Jess. I mean who asks things like that?"

"Apparently our boss," I replied, taking a sip of my drink. We were meeting at our usual drinking hole, Mitzy's, a bar that was a far cry from the ritzier ones uptown. Actually, it was one of those places where you didn't wear any shoes without a strap on them, lest you might walk out of them due to the sticky floor. The drinks were cheap, the atmosphere an eclectic crowd of blue-collar workers, college students, and random people off the street, and enough free pretzels to go around.

"I just don't know about this," Gretchen was saying, her hands picking at those free pretzels. "What if you have to kiss him, Jess? What if he decides to make a move on you?"

"He won't," I sighed, thinking that if he did, I would find it difficult to turn him down. It had been two, no three years since I had kissed anyone, much less worry about someone putting the moves on me. I wasn't one for a casual fling, though Kyle would definitely be someone who would test my ability to turn him down.

"You never know," Gretchen grinned, stirring her drink idly. "Honey, I wouldn't put it past him. Who knows? You might be just what he needs."

"Shh, here he comes," I said, watching Kyle walk through the door. A note had been left on my desk a day after his proposition, for dinner and a chance to iron out our story before making the trek to his parents' house. I held my breath as I took in his s.e.xy profile, clad in a gray suit and blue tie, the way the bar seemed to fade away as his eyes locked on mine, a hint of a smile showing on his handsome face. He moved like a predator stalking his prey, drawing looks from every woman in the building as he moved through the crowd.

"You're drooling, girlfriend," Gretchen's voice said just above my ear. "He's smoking hot and I hope you take every advantage of this, Jess. I mean you are practically working on being a virgin again."