Something Like Hate, page 3
“Fuck, don’t think with your dick. I know she’s hot, but I’d never sleep with her. I’m talking about work. She gets angry when I call her on Sundays expecting her to work. What do you think will happen if I ask her to work during her vacation?”
“That’s not why I’m telling you. I mean, what do you think she’d do if I proposed she change plans and come with me instead.”
He laughs. “You’re fucking insane. She’s going to say no and will probably quit on the spot. We can’t lose her.”
“I’m desperate,” I remind him.
“According to Lola, my mom has three different women lined up in case I’m lying about the girlfriend.”
“You are lying,” he says.
“Not the point.”
“So, she caught you. Why don’t you man up and fuck those three women? Now, let me go back to work.”
“I’m asking Claire to be my plus one.”
“No, man. Claire is a hard worker but…she’s moody. I don’t know,” he huffs. “Wouldn't that be considered sexual harassment?”
“I’m not going to sleep with her,” I clarify. “Just pretend to date her for a weekend—for my sanity.”
“You have three women to choose from, for fuck’s sake,” he says annoyed.
“Evans,” I say with a sigh.
“Claire is one of our best employees. She’s by far the best one on my team. I don’t want to lose her.”
“We won’t lose her. Trust me,” I say and hang up the phone.
I walk toward the group. The blonde who’s been watching me since we passed the security kiosk licks her lips when she sees me. I nod at them and get closer to Claire.
“Hey,” I greet her.
She sucks in a breath and her eyes open wide. That’s when I realize what’s different about her. She’s not wearing glasses. This is the first time I’ve seen her big, dark eyes, framed by long, curled eyelashes. I feel sucker-punched by her beauty, but my mission keeps me focused.
“Claire, isn’t it?” I clear my throat.
“I …” She chews on her lip.
“Well, hello, Mr. Hottie. I’m Madeline, and you are?” The blonde uses a sultry voice as she introduces herself.
I move my gaze toward Claire and serve her with my best smile. “Emperor Palpatine, right, Ms. Solis?”
She’s not the first employee to give me a nickname, nor will she be the last. They’ve called me anything and everything. Spoiler alert: asshole is the most common. I’m impressed by her originality. She crinkles her nose, closing her eyes briefly, and then lifts her face and stares at me. Her gaze turns serious, businesslike.
“Mr. Archer, what a surprise,” she greets me with her unique professional voice.
The embarrassment disappears as she speaks with a straight face. “It’s a pleasure to see you.”
“The feeling is mutual,” I say, hoping we can come to some kind of agreement. “Do you have a moment?”
“I’m on vacation,” she says firmly.
“Devon told me. You’re taking some time off. Where are you going?”
“To Cancun,” her friend, Madeline, says with excitement.
This isn’t just a sign. It’s the answer to all my problems.
“Is that right?” I ask.
Maybe my luck has changed. As I stare at her gorgeous face, I can see the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I suppress the smile, but I finally relax.
Claire narrows her gaze, pressing her lips into a thin line. Or maybe I spoke too fast. The ice queen is taking over.
“Well, Ms. Solis,” I say with a grin. “I have a proposition for you.”
She takes a step backward, and as she’s about to speak, the voice over the speaker announces a flight, “Ladies and gentlemen, Flight 8934 traveling to Cancun will start boarding in a few minutes.”
“That’s us,” she says politely. “Have a nice trip, sir.”
“You can proposition me anything you want, Mr. Archer,” the blonde says with a wink before they leave.
Claire glances at me and then at her friend. She tosses an eye roll in before walking away.
“Seriously, Madeline. He’s my boss.”
“I wouldn’t mind having a little fling with him. That’s why we’re going to Cancun, to have some fun. You said it yourself, you’re going to have fun and all the sex you haven’t had since Jordan.”
“Not with that guy. He’s off-limits,” she says, growling at her friend.
I nod as they walk by me and go to the counter.
“Would you mind?” I pull out my boarding pass and my frequent flyer card. “My girlfriend and I aren’t seated together.”
“What’s her name?”
“Claire,” I say, grinning at her. “Claire Solis.”
Five
Miller
Claire Solis is an asset.
My clients adore her.
In the three years she’s worked for me, we’ve exchanged only a few pleasantries. She always knows what our customers need and gives them exactly what they want—within reason.
We don’t have a working relationship.
But I have big plans for her.
She has a future in my company. The last thing I want to do is jeopardize our working relationship, but I don’t have many options. She has to be my plus one.
As we’re about to board the plane, I’m trying to figure out who I’ll be dealing with during the flight. Would she even let me talk to her about my proposition?
For a second, I play with the idea of inviting her friend, Madeline.
She seems willing, but too willing could end in disaster. I need a person who understands the circumstances and agrees to play along.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re now boarding passengers in first class.”
Claire whispers something to her friends, grabs her big bag, and walks toward the gate. I walk right behind her without making a sound.
“I hate aisle seats,” she mumbles under her breath, once we board the plane. She takes a seat and places her bag right in front of her.
“Ma’am, your belongings go in the overhead compartment,” the flight attendant says, pointing at the ceiling.
“It’s my purse,” she protests, hugging her oversized bag.
“It is,” I confirm. “She carries her entire life in there.”
I’ve seen her pull out clothespins, lollipops, Legos, markers, all kinds of snacks, even dryer sheets. It’s like Mary Poppins’ bag.
Claire tilts her head, giving me a nasty glare.
“Either way, she’s sitting in the first row,” the flight attendant says with an apologetic voice. “Your belongings go in the overhead compartment. Same goes for you, sir.”
I extend my hand toward Claire. “Let me help you. I’ll fetch it for you once we’re allowed to move around the cabin.”
Claire blinks twice and hands it to me, that’s when I say, “If you want, you can take the window seat.”
She twists her lips from side to side and says, “This seat was empty earlier when I checked-in. Are you stalking me?”
“Sir, we have other passengers. Would you mind taking your place?”
“Claire, honey, take the window seat,” I insist.
Her eyebrows shoot up, and then she narrows her eyes before she speaks, “I’ll take it, but I’m still not working during my trip.”
“I give you my word.” I smile reassuringly.
Once she’s settled, she asks, “Why are you following me?”
“I’m not following you. You happen to be traveling to the same place where my sister is getting married,” I say.
“Would you like something to drink, sir?” Another flight attendant approaches us.
“Water for me.” I turn to Claire. “Juice, water, or wine?”
She twists her mouth. “Red wine, please.”
“Two glasses of wine and water, please.”
“Of course, sir.”
As the passengers continue boarding, we receive our drinks and finally settle in.
“Sorry about the emperor thing,” she apologizes.
“You wounded me.” I set a hand on my chest, feigning hurt. “I always believed myself to be more of a Han Solo, but I guess sometimes I come off as an asshole to some of my employees.”
“You’re putting words in my mouth.”
“It’s okay,” I say, shrugging one shoulder. “I’ve heard worse than Emperor Palpatine. My position in the company is complicated. Making friends isn’t my goal.”
“It’s making money and sucking the life out of your employees.”
“Are you calling me a vampire or Hannibal Lecter?”
She scrunches her face, suppressing either a smile or a laugh. But those brown eyes are shining with humor.
“Instead of Han and the Princess, we can be Clarice and Hannibal.”
“Ha!” she says. “Look at you, making jokes.”
“I have some charm.” I wink at her. “You could find out more while we’re in Cancun.”
“Won’t you burst into flames if the sun hits your skin?” She gasps and covers her mouth. “Oh my God, I’m sorry. I don’t know where that came from.”
I frown. “You don’t like me, do you?”
“I plead the Fifth.”
“While you’re defending your constitutional rights, can I ask you a favor?”
She makes a growling sound and her body turns toward me. That’s when the plane begins to taxi and she automatically reaches for my hand.
“Sir, I need you to adjust your seat.” The flight attendant takes away our glasses, and I make sure Claire has her seat belt on.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I just don’t like when the plane takes off or lands,” she says, clutching my hand unapologetically.
“What is this favor you need from me?”
“My sister is getting married.”
“What is it with people getting married, moving in together, and having children?” she asks a little annoyed.
“Do you have something against relationships?”
“I’m not a fan. My mom says it’s because I haven’t found the right guy.”
“You’re still young,” I reassure her. “How old are you? Twenty-five?”
“Almost twenty-nine,” she corrects me. “But that’s not the point of this conversation, is it?”
“Right, my sister is getting married and my family is expecting a plus one.”
Claire looks around and then at our entwined hands. “Clearly, you don’t have a plus one,” she says, snatching her hand away from mine. “Why don’t you just tell them she canceled?”
The plane pulls forward, and just as my chest feels the compression of the take-off, I notice Claire closing her eyes. I grab her hand and say comfortingly, “It’s okay. We’ll be up in the air soon.”
“I don’t like the feeling. It’s weird,” she says in a low voice.
“Why don’t I distract you with my proposition?”
She remains silent as I tell her about Mom and what transpired yesterday and again today.
“Why would you lie to your mother?” she asks, once I finish my explanation.
“You’ve never lied to your parents?”
She shakes her head and sighs. “Nope. They’re too intrusive, and Mom knows everything.”
The flight attendant walks, over asking what we’d like for lunch. After we order our food, I ask for wine for both of us.
“As you can see,” I say, “I need a date.”
She chugs the glass of wine as they deliver it and then takes mine. “I’m still trying to decide if this is a dream or a prank.”
“Easy with the wine,” I say while we adjust our trays so the flight attendant can place the food. ”It’s neither, by the way.”
“Don’t you get that this is my vacation?”
“Yes. I’m not asking you to work, only to attend a few events—as my girlfriend,” I clarify. “It’s just a brief appearance during the rehearsal dinner, brunch, and the wedding ceremony itself.”
“Am I not invited to the reception?” She gives me a mischievous glare and laughs. “Kidding. I don’t care much either way because I’m. Not. Going.”
“Please,” I beg. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”
“I’m not good at lying,” she says with a firm tone. “You’re asking the wrong person.”
“You’re great at selling,” I remind her. “I’ve seen you work an entire room of people and convince them to sign the contract and pay the fifty percent right on the spot.”
“What would I be selling?”
“Us. As a couple.”
She gestures at me and then at herself. “You and me? A couple?”
Claire laughs, then drinks her wine.
“God, there’s not enough wine on this plane to make me agree to be your girlfriend. I mean, you’re hot. What with your perfect tailored suits, that trimmed beard, your chiseled jaw, and broad shoulders…who would believe that I, Claire, am dating a super-hot GQ model?”
“You think I’m hot?” I ask, surprised by her bluntness.
She points to her empty glass. “It’s the wine talking. You’re a ten; I’m like a seven.”
“Sweetheart, you’re an eleven, and you are out of my league,” I say in all honesty.
Women like her are a rarity.
“I don’t know where you’re getting those numbers from,” I say. “But I assure you, you’re beautiful. The whole package.”
I caress the inside of her hand, enjoying the feel of her skin against mine. I feel calm; all the anxiety about the account we could lose, my family’s expectations, and the future of my company seems miles away.
“Beauty is more than the shell,” I say. “You’re a smart, successful woman with a sassy attitude. Gorgeous nonetheless.”
“You’re a sweet talker, Mr. Archer,” she says softly.
“Is it working?” I ask, staring into her eyes and getting lost in them.
I feel as if I’m drifting in a faraway galaxy. Where I see a shooting star I ache to reach, to touch and become one with it. I blink twice. Where did that idea come from?
“It’s just a couple of meals and the ceremony. You’ll be free by Monday.”
“You’re putting me in a tight spot,” she says. “Why don’t you invite someone else? What happened to the tall blonde you were dating?”
“Are you keeping tabs on me, Ms. Solis?”
“Dream on.” She serves me a sassy eye roll. “She always came to the office as if she owned the place. But now that I think about it, it’s been a while since I saw her.”
“We broke up more than a year ago,” I tell her.
“Did she realize you were sucking out her soul?”
“I like to suck many things, Claire,” I say with a warning voice. “But never souls.”
She purses her lips and shuts her eyes tight for a second.
“Please,” I beg. “Just a weekend.”
“This would be platonic.” She opens her eyes and gives me a warning glare.
“We have to make it believable,” I say, entwining our hands together.
“That’s not easy. I barely know you.” She takes her hand back.
“We have plenty of time to work on the basics,” I grab her hand one more time. “I was born in New York. We moved to Denver when I was about ten. I went to Cornell to study business and got my MBA from NYU. You’re acquainted with my best friend.”
“Why come back to Denver when you could’ve stayed in New York City?”
“I’m close to my family.”
“They’ll know we’re not a couple,” she insists.
“Trust me. They won’t,” I say, hoping that’s enough.
It’s not. She moves her hand away and crosses her arms.
“I really don’t know you,” Claire says. “So no, you can’t say trust me.”
“Fair enough. We’ll make it believable. I’ll repay you, I swear.”
“Suddenly I feel like Pretty Woman,” she says and writes in the air with her finger. “Hooker for hire.”
“This is nothing like Pretty Woman. Though, I will compensate you. You can have whatever you want—within reason.”
“Well, there are a few things I want. An increase in salary, the Media and Marketing Director position, or another week in Cancun.”
I press my lips together. She can’t be serious.
“Honestly, I’m hoping for the last one because I want to earn the other two on my own,” she says with confidence.
Wait, she’s got to be kidding.
“Another vacation?” I ask, unsure. “We have work to do, Claire. I need you to land me a few accounts before the quarter is over.”
She narrows her gaze then turns toward the window.
I hold my breath for several seconds as I wait for her reply.
“Two weeks during summer and you’ve got yourself a deal,” she finally speaks.
“One and a half.”
“Three. In Europe?”
“Fine, two, but my mother has to believe we’re in love.”
“Now you’re asking for a miracle,” she says exasperatedly. “We can try, but I can’t guarantee the outcome.”
“Do we have a deal?
She sighs and nods. “Tell me about your family, Mr. Archer.”
“Miller, you have to call me Miller. Remember, we’re in love.”
She huffs. “You’re not my favorite person. What you’re asking for is a miracle, but let’s see what we can do.”
Six
Claire
“We’re here, sleepyhead.” A tender baritone wakes me up.
The sound of his voice is like a warm ray of sunshine covering my heart. When I open my eyes, I see him, Miller Archer, leaning close to me. So close, I feel his breath on my neck. His fingers grasp my wrist.
My heart beats wildly, and I have trouble swallowing.
Is this a dream?
One where my boss is nice and looks at me as if I were precious? Butterflies flutter in my chest as I get a whiff of his scent. Woodsy and manly. Emotion swells from my chest.
For God’s sake, Claire, get a grip!
It’s been so long since a man has been nice to me that I’m having trouble remembering who he really is.
