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Her head starts to sink into the pillow again. Who the hell sleeps this hard in a complete stranger’s home? “I’m sorry,” I reply. “The cleaning lady needs to get in here. It’s ten thirty.”
Her eyes go wide and suddenly she’s springing out of bed, snatching her bra off the ground. “Shit, shit, shit. I’m due in court. I don’t have time to get home.”
She picks up the tiny red dress on the floor. “I’m trying a sexual assault case today. Oh, Jesus, this is bad.”
I’m still processing my shock—I’d assumed anyone who came home with Hayes would be on the wrong side of the law—when her eyes flicker to my brand-new, purchased-for-this-job outfit.
Please don’t ask, I think. Yes, I’ll earn twenty-four grand if I make it the full six weeks, but even that won’t quite cover what I owe if I don’t finish the book.
“Can we trade?” she pleads. “I’m begging you. Please trade clothes with me.”
“I can’t wear, uh, that all day,” I reply, flinching. “I just started this job and—”
“But isn’t he at work?” she asks. “He’ll have no idea.”
I want to say no. I’m never getting my clothes back, especially once Hayes fails to call her again. But she looks so worried—and I’ve had enough times in my life where a small mistake felt like the end of the world—that I reach for the red dress.
It’s not like anyone’s going to see me anyway.
* * *
“I need you to meet me in Malibu,” Hayes says exactly fifteen minutes later.
It’s a plot turn I should have absolutely predicted, given the way my year has gone.
“Umm…okay?” I look down at the red dress, which barely meets my thighs.
“Is there a problem?” he asks. We haven’t exchanged ten words and he’s already put out. “Or the better question might be is there any part of this job with which you won’t have a problem?’”
“No problem at all.” Unless you have an employee dress code. “I’m on my way.”
I gather the supplies he’s requested and get in my car, wondering as I weave through the city how the hell I’m going to explain why I’m wearing what amounts to a sexy nightgown.
Despite the coming humiliation, something eases in my chest as I turn north on the Pacific Coast Highway. How could it not with the ocean to my left and the cliffside jutting toward the sea ahead of me? With my windows down and a warm breeze blowing in the scent of salt water and sage scrub, all feels right with the world, even if it’s a world in which I am mostly naked.
I meet him in front of a beach house that probably costs more per year than I’ll earn in my lifetime. I pull the requested cooler of filler and Botox from the back and turn to find him standing rigidly beside his car, staring at me.
“Are you...are you wearing my date’s dress?” he asks, horrified.
The silver lining to having nothing left to lose is that...I have nothing left to lose.
“Do you like it?” I whisper, raising nervous, hopeful eyes to him. “I disposed of her, just like you asked.”
He’s frozen. There’s confusion in his gaze, and the tiniest seed of dawning terror.
“What?” he barks.
I bite my lip and clasp my hands together like a penitent child. “I thought you’d like it. Now we can be together forever.”
His mouth hangs open and I can read his thoughts so clearly—This can’t be happening. Oh my God, what has she done?
I want to keep it going but I sit back against the hood of my car and start to laugh instead. “Holy shit. I wish you could see your face. Your guest was late for court and asked to wear my clothes.”
A low breath escapes him. “Bloody hell.” He runs his hands through all that pretty hair, making a mess of it. Man, I’d love to do that to his hair just once. “Wait. She asked to borrow your clothes, and you said yes?”
I shrug. “She was really freaked out.”
He stares at me as if he’s awaiting further explanation, and when it doesn’t come, he reaches between us to grab the cooler. “That was nice of you,” he says, his face tight with displeasure as he walks away.
