Chapter Ten

Avery

I love cuddling with Hugh Parrish. In fact, I loved it so much that I didn't want to stop, but I knew I had to give up the warmth and comfort of plastering myself to his body. It wasn't a sexual thing, not at all. But I enjoyed that cuddle more than I've enjoyed anything in a long time, which seems crazy. But liking Hugh is not a crime. Maybe my ethics have been stretched lately, thanks to Lord Steamy and my strangely powerful need to help him, not only to save his public image and his company, but to make him feel better.

Yeah, I'm in trouble. And I don't care.

Hugh and I discuss a number of strategies for wooing Mr. Jenkins, but I'm no expert on that side of business. My forte is image consulting—basically PR on steroids. But I think Hugh mostly needs someone on his side who will listen and let him bounce ideas off them. I've become a sounding board, and I don't mind at all. I always do whatever I can to help my clients. With Hugh Parrish, I've gone further. I'm dating him. Regardless of whether we call it fake or not, we went on a real date. Lines are getting blurred, and I should worry about that, but I don't want to worry about anything.

Hugh tells jokes to lighten the mood during our serious conversation about his business, though he doesn't do it to avoid the important stuff. He needs to lighten the mood now and then, and I can't deny he makes me laugh more than anyone else in the world could.

No, I won't fall for him. That would be nuts.

We spend the better part of the day spitballing ideas. Hugh tries calling Jenkins's office again. After that, he needs to attend a board meeting, so I go back to my hotel to brainstorm even more ideas for Hugh. Maybe I shouldn't be this invested in my client's life. But I care what happens to him, not just his company, and I'm done trying to hide that fact. I care about every client, but Lord Sommerleigh is… I don't know. Special, I suppose. But I refuse to waste brainpower on figuring out why. Once I've gotten Hugh over the worst of his problems, then maybe I'll think about why I agreed to fake date him.

For the sake of my sanity and my professional ethics, I insist we meet only at his office, not my hotel suite or his apartment. Our dates are the exception, but I do ask him to drop me off at the door to my hotel rather than the door to my suite.

"But we're meant to be dating," he says when I share my decision with him the next day. "A proper viscount walks his date to her door."

"Please, Lord Sommerleigh, let's keep it professional." Yes, I've reasserted my dictate that I will refer to him only as Lord Sommerleigh, except on our dates.

"Are you afraid you'll lose control and beg me to shag you?" He crosses his heart with two fingers. "I swear on my father's grave that I shall not attempt to seduce you when I walk you to your door."

"No, Lord Sommerleigh. Drop me off at the hotel entrance."

"I love it when you order me to do things. Though in this case, I'm not entirely pleased with your pronouncement." He sighs with melodramatic disappointment. "But I shall heed your command."

Over the next week, we spend most of our time ensconced in his office hashing out ideas. Hugh tries repeatedly to get through to Phillip Jenkins, but the man refuses to see or speak to him. Jenkins's executive assistant loves Hugh and the decadent candies he sent her, but even that connection isn't enough to get him an audience with Jenkins himself.

What has he been told about Hugh? Jenkins might be good friends with the Duke of Wackenbourne, or maybe the reason has nothing to do with Hugh. I don't know, and we will never find out the answer if we can't get in to see the man.

Yeah, I'm now thinking about me and Hugh as one unit, as…a couple. The realization sends a tingle rushing over my skin, but I can't decide if I'm excited or terrified by the prospect. We're a pretend couple. But sometimes it doesn't feel fake.

We go on two more dates during the week and over the weekend. But on Monday morning, we get news we've been hoping to hear.

Phillip Jenkins has agreed to meet with us.

"Will you come with me to Jenkins's office?" Hugh asks. "I know it's not in your job description. But now that you've helped me figure out a plan, I feel, ah…"

"Anxious? It's okay, you can say that out loud. I won't make fun of you. Feeling nervous is understandable, considering what's at stake." Though he's hiding it well, I notice little signs that tell me he's more anxious than he wants me to know. So I walk around his desk to sit on his lap with my arms around his neck. "Yes, I'll go with you for moral support."

"Thank you. Not sure I could do this alone."

"Of course you could. But I'm happy to hold your hand during the meeting, literally or figuratively. Whatever you need."

He lifts his brows. "Whatever I need? That's a dangerous thing to say to the man who's accused of seducing every married woman in the country."

"You aren't like that." I kiss his cheek. "And everyone will have forgotten about that nonsense by the time I'm done polishing up your image. You already got a positive mention in a newspaper."

"Yes, it said 'Lord Sommerleigh appears to be behaving like a gentleman these days.' It was in the style section, and the journalist spent four paragraphs describing my clothing."

"It's a start. Be grateful for that."

"Of course I'm grateful. Praise for my suit is much better than snide comments about my sex life."

"Even a small win is still a victory."

Our meeting with Jenkins won't happen for three days. That leaves Hugh with plenty of time to get anxious. In the days leading up to the meeting, he gets progressively and visibly more nervous. He even stops cracking jokes. He doesn't try to seduce me, either. He behaves like a true gentleman, which I would love if I didn't know he acts that way mostly because he's worried about the meeting.

I wouldn't want him to be a complete gentleman. Having a naughty side is one of his best qualities.

The day arrives, and we put on our best business outfits. I literally hold Hugh's hand while we walk into the building. But then he lets go, giving me a tight smile, and I know the anxiety has hit him again.

"You'll do fine," I whisper to him as we approach the desk occupied by Jenkins's executive assistant.

The young woman smiles at us. "Good morning, Lord Sommerleigh. And you must be Avery Hahn. I'm Megan."

Since we hadn't wanted to ambush Jenkins with my presence, Hugh had informed the man that his "business consultant" would accompany him.

Megan ushers us to the closed door to Jenkins's office and swings it open for us, waving for us to enter first. She leaves the door open as she grabs a notepad and pen from her desk, then follows us into the office, where she takes a seat near her boss.

Hugh and I don't sit down yet. First, we need to introduce ourselves.

But our host gets there first. The gray-haired man behind the desk gives us a polite smile as he stands to offer Hugh his hand. "Good afternoon, Lord Sommerleigh. It's a pleasure to see you again."

"Thank you," Hugh says while shaking the man's hand. "I appreciate you giving us a bit of your time."

Jenkins waves to the chairs. "Please, sit down."

And so the meeting begins.

Hugh gives our host a seemingly relaxed smile that matches his posture, but I notice the faintest wrinkles around his eyes that show how worried he really is. As much as I want to hug him, I can't do that during a business meeting. I'll wait until later to throw my arms around him.

"I know why you're here," Jenkins tells Hugh. "I imagine you saw the article."

"Yes. It suggested you might be on the verge of canceling our contract. Is that true?"

Jenkins clasps his hands on his desk and gazes down at them. "I'm afraid so."

My stomach drops like a stone, and I can only imagine how much Hugh must be freaking out on the inside. Outwardly, he still seems relaxed and professional. But those lines around his eyes have deepened.

"May I ask what changed your mind about Sommerleigh Sweets?" Hugh asks. "Our companies have enjoyed a prosperous and friendly partnership for many years."

We both know what made Jenkins change his mind, but Hugh has to ask.

Jenkins stares down at his hands for a moment in silence. Then he raises his head. "I want you to know that I don't judge my employees or my business associates based on how they conduct their personal lives. As long as they do their jobs well, the rest is none of my concern."

Oh yeah, I hear a "but" coming.

"Though you and I haven't had a great deal of personal contact," Jenkins continues, "I've always liked and respected you as a business owner and as a person."

Here it comes…

"But I can't be seen to condone your recent behavior." Jenkins sits back in his chair and exhales a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry, Lord Sommerleigh. Yes, I am on the verge of deciding to cancel our contract with Sommerleigh Sweets."

Hugh clears his throat. "I understand. But perhaps you would give me a chance to explain."

"Not sure that would help. I've received complaints from certain peers who are pressuring me to sever my company's relationship with yours."

I can guess who those "peers" are—the Duke of Wackenbourne and his nasty friends.

"Whatever you've heard," Hugh says, "it's not entirely accurate. I don't claim to be a saint, but I would never do the things a certain someone has accused me of doing."

"Yes, I understand that. And your family has always been a strong business partner for us. But…" Jenkins scratches his cheek and glances out the window before looking at Hugh again. "In consideration of our long-term business relationship, I will take some time to mull over the issues. That's the best I can offer right now."

"And I appreciate that you're granting us that much. I could offer you a number of hefty inducements, but I'd much rather you reach a conclusion on your own."

"Thank you, Lord Sommerleigh. I will have an answer for you next week."

Hugh and I say goodbye to Jenkins and walk out of the office. We had both known going into this meeting that Jenkins wouldn't vow to stand by Sommerleigh Sweets no matter what. He runs a business, and his personal opinion of Hugh doesn't matter. If the Duke of Wackenbourne and his cronies put pressure on Jenkins, the man will have to give in for the sake of his company and his employees.

We board the elevator and find ourselves alone in the car.

I throw my arms around Hugh. "I'm so sorry that didn't go the way we'd both hoped."

"Don't apologize. We knew he wouldn't make a decision today, and it's unlikely he will decide in our favor."

Maybe it's weird that we both refer to his meeting and his company as if we're both invested in his business, as if we're partners. And maybe I shouldn't care this much about Hugh's well-being when I've known him for a week. But I do care, and feelings rarely adhere to logic or a predefined time line.

I keep my arms around Hugh until we reach the ground floor. Then we walk out of the elevator like two business professionals. We don't climb into a limo. Hugh told me the other day that he'd hired a limousine because he thought I would want that. When I assured him that I don't care what kind of car he has, he seemed surprised, but only for a moment. I also told him he should act like himself rather than trying to impress all those people who are more than happy to think the worst of him. Behaving like a gentleman, like his true self, will do more good than fancy limos and schmoozing with stuck-up rich people.

That means when we exit Jenkins Foods, we head for a car parked in the lot outside. No driver waits for us. Hugh helps me into the passenger side, then climbs into the driver's seat.

My next task might be the hardest of all. It's time to make him tell me about Scotland.