The Maverick's Bridal Bargain Page 8

  “Why does it have to be on there at all? Clearly, I’m the only one who is here to sign the document anyway.”

  Vivienne studied him across the table. “Estelle probably won’t make too much of a fuss about it as long as she gets her deposit.”

  She tapped the keys a few times and gave the mouse a click, and the printer in the corner whirred to life just as her boss walked back in, sucking on a lollipop. “I’ve been trying to cut back on the nicotine,” Estelle said around the white stick. “Viv got me these to help take the edge off.”

  “Sounds like Viv here is quite the asset,” Cole suggested, but the asset in question made a subtle sweeping gesture across her neck. Yeah, maybe he was laying it on too thick. Already uncomfortable with the false details he was making up to just keep this big lie believable, he shifted in his seat and said, “Who do I make the check out to?”

  Estelle eagerly took the twenty-five percent down payment of the company’s fee, her sneakers squeaking across the hardwood floor as she hotfooted it back to her office—probably to make out the bank deposit slip. He wouldn’t be surprised if the ol’ gal didn’t have one of those apps on her phone that snapped a picture of the check to transfer the funds before he changed his mind.

  Cole looked over the paperwork, then lowered his voice. “I hope you stipulated in here that I’d be working primarily with you.”

  “Don’t worry. Estelle doesn’t bother leaving the office much these days. Besides the occasional phone call, I’m almost always the one who works with the clients.” Vivienne handed him a contact information form to fill out. “But she will want the bride’s email address to register her for a subscription service from various wedding vendors. I suggest you give her yours unless you want them kicked back as invalid.”

  Cole wrote down his contact information, wishing he had thought this whole plan out a little better. Or at least wishing he hadn’t underestimated Vivienne’s boss.

  “Here’s your detail organizer, Mr. Dalton,” Estelle said as she brought a large three-ring binder into the room. He recognized it as the same type Vivienne brought to all her meetings with Lydia and Zach. The company must buy them in bulk. “Why don’t you and Vivienne get started on filling it in with ideas?”

  “Actually, I’m starved.” Cole leaned back and patted his stomach. It was a bit early for lunch, but trying to outmaneuver a crafty businesswoman had certainly worked up an appetite. Plus, he couldn’t take sitting in this office a second longer. “Vivienne, is there someplace nearby where we can grab a bite and go over this stuff?”

  “Of course there is,” Estelle responded on Vivienne’s behalf, making a shooing gesture at them. “Go on now, Viv. Give the client what they want. That’s our motto here.”

  Vivienne’s mouth opened as if to object, probably because her boss had just spent the entire meeting trying to convince Cole of things he absolutely did not want.

  Ever.

  In fact, right this second, the only things he wanted were a good meal and the satisfaction from doing a good deed. He was about to get both.

  “Susie Starlight?” was the first thing out of Vivienne’s mouth when they sat down at Matilda’s Diner and Pie Shop. The only reason she’d agreed to join him for lunch was because she’d been eager to get out from under Estelle’s watchful eye and remind Cole that what they were doing was a horrible idea. She certainly hadn’t intended to bring up his fictitious fiancée.

  “That was the name of my first love.” Cole didn’t bother looking up as he casually read his menu. Not that this was a date or anything, but their newly formed business arrangement didn’t lessen the stab of jealousy Vivienne experienced. Or maybe it was irritation that she was out in public with a man who was still pining over another woman.

  “Was she a showgirl?”

  “No. She was my horse. I hardly think someone who refers to their guinea pig as Lord Nibbles should talk.”

  “Well, he didn’t start out as mine,” Vivienne said before thanking the server who delivered two iced waters.

  “I’ve gotta hear this,” Cole said, raising one dark eyebrow as if he was actually interested in talking about her pet.

  Vivienne sighed and sat back against the leather booth. As long as she didn’t have to talk about her boss or getting fired from her job, the man could lead the conversation in any direction he wanted. “He was Estelle’s. I don’t know what she was thinking when she up and bought him a few weeks ago. I was supposed to return him to the pet store, but I kept finding reasons not to.”

  “Such as...?”

  “Such as he’s absolutely adorable whenever I feed him and he daintily starts nibbling on his morsels, as though he is at a proper dinner party.”

  “Okay, so that explains the ‘Nibbles’ part of the name,” Cole replied, then stood up to retrieve a red crayon that had rolled off the table next to them. He handed it to the toddler in the high chair before sliding back into their booth and not missing a beat of their conversation. “But why ‘Lord’?”

  “Because he’s very proper, like a British peer. And he has this black fur with a funny patch of white on his chest that makes him look like he’s wearing a waistcoat.”

  Vivienne pretended to look for the waitress so she wouldn’t have to see Cole laughing at her. Clearly she’d been reading too many Regency romance novels lately.

  The restaurant was busy, but the server was quick to return to their table. Cole ordered the grilled chicken club and was polite enough not to say anything when Vivienne requested a hot pastrami sandwich, loaded tater tots and a slice of cookies-and-cream pie.

  “I eat when I’m stressed,” she said by way of explanation.

  “Why are you stressed?” he asked. “You got your booking and Estelle got her check. You’re off the hook, aren’t you?”

  “Ha. You don’t know Estelle if you think she’s ever going to be appeased.” Vivienne pulled the brand-new three-ring binder out of her tote bag and set it down on the table between them. “She’ll get suspicious if I bring this thing back empty. The real work is about to start.”

  Chapter Seven

  Cole fingered the indexed tabs of the binder, handling it as though it was a live explosive. “Do you seriously fill one of these things up with info on every single wedding?”

  “Usually it’s just for ideas. And I prefer to keep things organized on my tablet. But Estelle is still wrestling with the age of technology and likes to be able to monitor my work. Plus, you never know when you’re going to be out of Wi-Fi reception or lose power.” Vivienne didn’t point out that she’d had low signals on both when she’d been working on their property in Rust Creek Falls.

  “So how much is my pretend wedding going to cost?” He stared at the list on the first page and did a double take when his eyes landed on the suggested budget. “Whoa. Do people seriously pay this much for a party?”

  Vivienne gave her shoulder a slight lift. “Some people do.”

  “Would you?” The question caught her off guard. People always asked her opinion on what they should do. But they never asked her what she would do. The truth was she didn’t know.

  “Probably not. But I’m not your normal bride.”

  “Do you want to be one someday?”

  “I’m not going to say that I haven’t thought about it. But I’ve also thought about whether or not to cut my hair short.”

  “Don’t. I like it long.”

  A shiver raced down her spine, and she kept her hands clamped together in her lap so she wouldn’t be tempted to self-consciously tug on her loose ponytail. “I, uh, was just making a comparison on how it’s one of those things that crosses your mind, but you don’t actively consider it because, deep down, you don’t really have any intention of making any changes.”

  He studied her so intently she wondered if she’d spoken a different language. Then he said, “Usually when
a good idea crosses my mind, I make it happen.”

  “As is evident by you showing up at my office this morning,” she murmured. Then she spoke louder, “Do you always rush into things like this?”

  “You mean into helping people when they need me? Of course.”

  One of Zach’s comments the first day they’d met kept coming back to Vivienne. What was it? Something about being a hero?

  “So what did your family say about you rushing into this?” Vivienne tapped lightly on the binder. He was temporarily saved from responding by the appearance of their lunch.

  The server had plates arranged up her extended arm as she set food down in front of them. Way too much food. Even stressed, Vivienne didn’t think she could eat this much.

  “Here’s the thing,” Cole said after blowing on one of his French fries. “I didn’t say anything to them yet. Do you think your boss will tell my brother and Lydia what we’re up to?”

  “We?” She had tried to talk Cole out of this stupid farce, but at this point the ball was already rolling with no way to stop it. Making her just as culpable. She took a sip of her soda before continuing. “Most likely not. Up until now, I’ve kept Estelle out of the loop with their wedding by scheduling appointments either in Rust Creek Falls or when she’s out of the office. Which I would’ve had you do as well, if you hadn’t just shown up out of the blue like that this morning.”

  “It wasn’t out of the blue. I told you I was coming. Are you going to eat all those tater tots?”

  Vivienne put the side dish in the middle of the table, right on top of the binder, so he could reach them. “Yeah, but I’d figured you’d change your mind when you realized that it was a stupid idea. I was up half the night thinking of ways to talk you out of it.”

  “Well, apparently my idea worked, so it wasn’t that stupid. Estelle bought it. Which means you still have a job and my brother still has a wedding planner.”

  “For now. But if I go back to the office without your ideas on guest counts, indoor venues and favorite cake flavors, she’s going to know something’s up. I’m telling you, the woman is ruthless.”

  “Come on.” Cole took a long gulp of his iced tea, the smooth muscles of his neck flexing as he swallowed. “I was a Marine. I think I can handle a little old lady in a purple suit.”

  * * *

  Famous last words.

  Cole hadn’t expected Estelle of Estelle’s Events to blow up his email inbox with so many links to bridal services. Hell, he didn’t even know there were this many bridal services out there. But since they’d gotten along pretty well at lunch and he’d been able to control himself from kissing her, he pulled out Vivienne’s business card that evening and sent her a one-word text message: Help.

  As soon as he’d pressed the send button, he’d wanted to call it back. Cole wasn’t the one usually asking for assistance. He was the one delivering it. But it was well after business hours and he was afraid that if he didn’t send something requiring an instant response, he’d spend the rest of the evening wondering if she was avoiding him.

  He had to wait only half a minute before she replied: What’s wrong?

  Cole leaned against the pillows on his bed—which was really his cousin Kayla’s old bed—and typed.

  I keep getting these emails about laser hair removal and spray-on tans that won’t stain my white dress. Am I supposed to respond to Estelle every time she sends me one of these?

  Please don’t. It will only encourage her.

  Then she sent a separate message with just a smiley face.

  He chuckled, then tapped his screen. Did she like my answers to the questionnaire?

  There’d been an initial interview form Vivienne had gone over with him at lunch. She’d cautioned him about his tongue-in-cheek responses, but he’d made her laugh with a few of them and he was pleased to see that the woman had a great sense of humor.

  Suffice it to say she wasn’t a fan of the hay bale racing idea or your preference for the groomsmen to wear cow-printed vests.

  A second bubble popped up.

  She also said she hopes Susie Starlight Roper has more sense than you. I told her not to hold her breath.

  A pang of nostalgia shot through Cole at the reminder of his childhood mare. What he’d said earlier today was true. Old Susie had been his first love, but he had no idea why he’d come up with her name when asked about his fake bride. Maybe because all the wedding business and planning for the new ranch had him constantly thinking about their old home in Hardin, as well as his mother and the life he no longer had.

  Another alert popped up on the blue envelope app, which he normally never used, since he mostly worked with horses and cows and they never sent him emails. He clicked on the link, only to get the annoying little red alert symbol to disappear. Cole groaned at the subject line and then sent Vivienne another text.

  Do you know they have stores where you can go online and pick out which gifts you want people to give you for a wedding present?

  They’re called wedding registries. But don’t worry. You and Susie won’t need to start one until right before you send out your invitations.

  Ol’ Susie would’ve been happy registering for a new saddle blanket and a bag of carrots.

  That means 2 of your guests will be buying a gift. What should the other 498 people related to you bring?

  Cole smiled to himself as he reread her joke about his large family. He wanted to write back something clever, but everything he could think of might come across as too flirtatious.

  Nothing. I still can’t believe people waste their money on this junk.

  I know. You should’ve seen this one client we had today. That sucker paid us money up front to plan a fake wedding for him.

  Cole was still laughing when he set his phone down and switched off the pink lamp on the bedside table.

  But he wasn’t laughing two days later when, after a hot, backbreaking day of digging around railroad ties and laying cement for Vivienne’s walkway, he made the mistake of looking at his inbox right before bed. The advertisement about bridal lingerie had him tossing and turning all night, thinking about Vivienne dressed in nothing but a white, lacy bustier...and his desire to get her out of it as fast as possible!

  * * *

  Vivienne was having some fantasies of her own, and they weren’t all about resurrecting her career. It didn’t help that, in order to keep up pretenses, she’d had to call several times this week to ask Cole things like his preference for a DJ over a band and whether his “fiancée” would be interested in a special promotion the bowling alley in Kalispell was having for bridal showers and bachelorette parties.

  Estelle wasn’t letting up, despite the fact that Vivienne had a consultation scheduled for the anniversary party of a former client’s parents, as well as several leads on more events.

  Then, the following Monday, Cole sent her a text jokingly asking where he should go on his honeymoon. She was on the home stretch on the Grant-Dalton wedding while trying to convince her boss that she was still working on more bookings, and all she could think about was Cole walking on a beach on the French Riviera, dripping water off his rippling muscles and—

  Whoa. She really should not be going there.

  Thankfully, Estelle’s late arrival was a welcome distraction from Vivienne’s inappropriate thoughts. The older woman hustled through the front door of the office with more agility than an Olympic runner.

  “Where are we with the Roper-Dalton wedding?”

  Okay, maybe that wasn’t quite the distraction Vivienne had been hoping for. “We’re right where we need to be on it.”

  “Have they set a date yet?”

  “Last I heard, the groom wanted to focus on his brother’s event before starting the planning of his own.”

  “That’s odd, if you ask me.” Estelle dropped her purple handbag on the rec
eption desk, where it would probably remain until Vivienne moved it.

  “I think it’s pretty normal that someone wouldn’t want to upstage their sibling on their big day.”

  Estelle shooed a hand at her. “Not that. I mean, it’s odd that we’re still only dealing with the groom. What kind of bride doesn’t take an active role in the planning of her own wedding?”

  “It’s still early. I’m sure Su—” Vivienne couldn’t bring herself to finish the fake name. “I’m sure the bride will make an appearance soon.”

  Vivienne realized the odd choice of words when Estelle paused halfway down the hall toward her office. Oh, no. Her boss turned around. “Actually, why don’t you call her and ask when she’s coming into the office to sign the contract?”

  Yeah, she’d been wrong about Estelle not wanting both of their clients’ signatures. Why have only one person on the hook for a cancellation fee when she could have two? Vivienne should’ve never second-guessed the woman’s dogged tenacity when it involved the risk of forfeited deposits.

  “No problem.” What could she do but paste a smile on her face as if there was nothing she’d enjoy more than making a pretend phone call to a pretend bride. Vivienne’s veins felt as if they were pumping ice water, and she looked at the thermostat on the wall to see if the air-conditioning had been switched on. She tried to keep her teeth from chattering when she offered a weak excuse. “Except I only have the number for the groom.”

  “Then call him,” Estelle said, pulling out one of the heavy chairs across the conference table and settling her tiny frame in the middle of it, a queen on her throne.

  Vivienne opened the binder and flipped to the client information sheet. After all, she didn’t need her boss to know she already had Cole’s number programmed in her contact list or that they’d been talking to each other all week. When she pulled out her cell phone to dial, Estelle tapped a long, purple fingernail on the black landline, indicating she wanted the call on speaker.

  Each drawn-out ring echoed in the conference room and grated on Vivienne’s tightly wound nerves. Just when she thought the call was about to go to voice mail, Cole’s sexy drawl answered.