Page 13 of Hard and Unprotected

“I’m glad.” The woman who’s been cooking for me for years, finished arranging two place settings on the table and passed me to go back into the kitchen for a vase of flowers.

Flowers?

Please. This is a bachelor apartment. I’ve got the giant entertainment system, the man cave out back, and a cook and household staff. I’m a single guy living in the lap of luxury.

But Mrs. Jones wanted to make things nice for my lady guest, bustling this way and that, fussily arranging things.

But it’s fine because Maggie’s going to play a key role in my life. For the next couple months at least.

After I left the pet store, I thought about taking her to dinner at my parents’ place. That’s what I was paying her for after all. To pull the wool over my dad’s eyes so that he relinquished control of the company. But common sense told me to chill and get to know Maggie before embarking on the grand tour.

Because Henry and Evelyn aren’t exactly dumb. My dad runs a billion dollar conglomerate and my mom’s led a couple charities in the last decade or so. So they’re not idiots, and bringing a new girl over without prepping her was full-on suicide. It’d never work.

So yeah, I needed to get to know Maggie first. And damn, but I was kinda looking forward to it. The girl’s easy on the eyes, and she’s got a sweet personality to boot. What could be so bad about this?

Savory smells filled my nostrils. Yum. Mrs. Jones went all out, making lemon butter salmon on a bed of risotto, along with some homemade sweet breads, rum punch, and a chocolate cake displayed nice and elegant in the center of the table. Oh yeah, all the stops were being pulled out tonight.

I glanced at my watch. Ten minutes to eight.

My driver left to pick up Maggie about an hour ago, so she’d be here soon. And like a fussy idiot, I even leaned forward and straightened the napkins before my hands jerked away.

What the fuck?

I don’t do place settings. I don’t do flower arrangements.

And yet my fingers were itching, dying to make things perfect. What the hell? What the fuck was wrong with me? But at that moment, Mrs. Jones came out of the kitchen with her coat on and her purse on her arm.

“Enjoy your dinner, Mr. Lincoln. If you need anything else, please call.”

As long as I’ve known Penny Jones, she’s acted like a fifties sitcom mom, always smiling and always with delicious food to share. And after fifteen years together, she was more like a mother than a housekeeper, even if we did call each other Mr. and Mrs.

I nodded approvingly.

“Thanks for your help, Mrs. Jones. I appreciate that you did this on such short notice.” Of course, Penny was getting a big bonus for rushing the dinner. After all, everything smelled and looked good enough to be from a five star restaurant, just the way I liked.

And right on time, my phone buzzed.

“Excuse me,” was my polite nod.

As expected, it was my driver, Trevor, telling me Maggie was on her way into the building. Perfect timing.

“Thank you, Trevor. We’re ready up here.”

“Sure no problem, Mr. Lincoln,” his cheerful voice boomed through the phone. “See you in the morning.”

Meanwhile, Mrs. Jones was letting herself out the back door.

“Good night,” she smiled, eyes twinkling. “Enjoy yourself.”

I nodded, already distracted somewhat.

“Good night and thank you,” were my final words. Once the door shut, I double checked everything. It’s the perfectionist in me, and I can’t help it sometimes.

The food was done. I was dressed in designer jeans and a black cashmere sweater, casual and relaxed. After all, I don’t want to scare away my pretend fiancée before things got really started. Plus, the most important part. After a lot of pushing and shoving, a mountain of gourmet dog food, and a long walk in the park, Bowzer was snoozing peacefully in the guest bedroom. Thank fuck.

Turning to the light switch, I fiddled with it a little, darkening the floor to ceiling windows. These things are pretty cool. The view to the outside was still visible, but no one could see within. Good. I didn’t want any of my neighbors catching an eyeful of anything that went on in my place tonight.

Not that I was planning shit, but I didn’t get to where I was in life and in business without being prepared for every possibility.