An Indecent Proposal(7)

I shook my head in exasperation and dashed for the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, then pressed my back against the cold wall as I forced myself to take slow sips. Maybe Jude had time to waste on yet another one of her usual absurd ideas, but one of us had to keep her feet firmly planted on the ground. Hiring an actor to play my husband wasn’t going to happen because it would only backfire.

Just tell the truth, Hanson. How hard can it be?

I swallowed.

It wasn’t an option. Not even a possibility. If the truth came out, it’d kill me, meaning I’d have to come up with a plan.

“Guess who’s got a date tonight,” Jude singsonged from the door.

I turned my head wearily to regard her. Her cheeks were flushed, and there was a strange glint in her eyes, like she had just run a few miles, or had marathon sex. She grabbed the water bottle out of my hands and took a swig, then handed it back to me. “Come on, play along.”

I shot her a desolate look.

Please. Let this be a joke.

“Who?” I asked halfheartedly.

“You, Hanson. Chase is picking you up at seven,” she gushed, and I couldn’t keep my shoulders from dropping. “You two are going to have dinner, during which you can talk about the job, and, who knows, one thing might just lead to another.” She winked, leaving the rest unspoken.

Usually, I would have laughed at her dirty imagination, but right now all I could do was stare at her, open-mouthed. Cold and hot chills ran down my spine at the realization that with picking up she actually meant the guy was coming over.

“You gave the creep my home address?” My voice sounded thin, but there was a menacing undertone in it that didn’t escape even Jude.

“How else was he supposed to pick you up?” She shrugged defensively, but there was unease in her eyes. “Besides, I didn’t give him your real name.”

“That’s a relief,” I said, fighting the urge to shake some much-needed sense into her. “Let’s hope he can’t read the correct name on the mailbox or ask the concierge. Or remember my face and stalk me home from the grocery store.”

“He won’t. He sounds like a pretty nice guy.” She nodded, probably trying to convince herself as much as me.

Yeah, like sociopaths didn’t usually masquerade as nice guys.

I sighed inwardly and changed the topic to more pressing issues.

“All right. How much is he charging for the first hour?” I asked casually. “Surely, if he’s a professional actor, he’s mentioned his rates.”

“Actually”—she looked so guilty I knew she was about to drop the next bomb—“Chase said the first hour is free so you can get to know each other. He’s saving you money.” Jude beamed. “Isn’t he great?”

“It’s free?” I said slowly. “Since when is something free? Jude, are you realizing how he sounds? He sounds like a major creep with that little extra killer factor thrown in. Like someone who—”

“I think I got the message,” Jude said, cutting me off, her lips pressed into a tight line that reflected her annoyance. I just couldn’t figure out if it was aimed at herself or me. “You’ll be okay, right, Laurie? If something happens, you’ll call me, and I’ll come and pick you up.”

I laughed darkly. As emergency plans went, calling her was a no-brainer under normal circumstances. However, these weren’t exactly normal circumstances. If something bad happened to me…I doubted I’d be able to call while he was busy harvesting my organs and selling them on the black market.

“Besides, he looks too hot to be a madman,” she said.

“I guess you’re right,” I said sarcastically. I should have been angry with Jude for making this hole I had dug myself even deeper, but we had been best friends for a long time. We were never angry at each other—that was the secret of our friendship. Besides, the fear in her eyes told me she realized that she’d made a mistake, one she couldn’t wait to rectify.

“Phone him back and call the whole thing off, Jude.”

Narrowing her eyes at me, she shook her head vehemently. “No.”

“No?” I asked incredulously, realizing the glint in her eyes wasn’t one of fear. She was proud of her brainless plan and excited to get the ball rolling.

“I’ve just sorted out all your worries. Just like that.” She snapped her manicured fingers in my face. “And you’re being an ungrateful little brat. Now, get a life, which you desperately need, Hanson, and start planning your outfit for your date with the most gorgeous guy you—or I, for that matter—have ever seen, because we want to make quite the impression. Come on, we have less than two hours left.”