The Bachelor Chronicles. Lissa Manley
a paper clip and bent it out of shape. A sharp needle of guilt joined the concern roiling in his gut. “I canceled the interview.”
Mark laughed under his breath. “You’re kidding, right?” He jerked his tie loose and unbuttoned the top button on his dress shirt.
“Nope. The reporter they sent was rude.” Eye candy, but still rude.
“So you backed out?”
He glared at Mark and mentally dug in his heels, remembering Allison. “Yeah, I backed out. I never wanted to do the interview to begin with, and they wanted me to go on some date.”
Mark leaned forward. “Jared, we need this publicity. I think you should reconsider the interview.”
Jared scowled and twisted the paper clip. “We’ve been over this, Mark. I don’t think the interview is necessary.”
“Even after you’ve seen those sales figures?”
Jared hesitated and clenched his jaw tight, hating being pressured to do something that could blow up in his face. “The timing’s bad,” he muttered, looking for an excuse to back out.
“Nothing has changed. Publicity is publicity, any way you look at it, even if it involves a perfunctory date.” Mark leaned back in his chair. “We can’t afford to pass this up. What if they go for Ryan Cavanaugh? Then Java Joint gets the exposure. Is that what you want?”
Jared considered Mark’s words. Cavanaugh was a bachelor and very eligible. And he’d probably love to get the jump on Warfield’s and snag the interview and publicity. Could Jared afford to take that chance? Though he hated to admit it, the decision had been taken out of his hands. He’d have to be sure to leave Allison out of the interview and hope Ms. James hadn’t dug deep enough to discover he’d adopted his niece. He would worry about the date later. He’d definitely find a way to get out of that part of the agreement.
“All right,” he conceded. “I’ll do the interview. But I don’t like this one bit.”
Mark smiled and rose. “How bad can it be? Just give the reporter a few tidbits, show up for the date, and that will be it.”
He raised a brow as Mark left, then roughly adjusted his watch on his wrist. Tidbits? Somehow he doubted Erin James would be satisfied with mere tidbits. She seemed pretty desperate to get the interview, probably because she hadn’t had a fresh kill lately. And the whole pick-a-date concept rubbed him the wrong way. He would decide when he went on a date with a woman, not some newspaper editor looking to increase readership with cheesy features.
But Mark was right. Warfield’s needed the publicity. He’d throw Erin a bone and leave it at that. How difficult could it be?
Jared turned his attention to some paperwork without addressing that particular question. In his gut he knew he wouldn’t like the answer.
Chapter Three
“Darn this stupid skirt,” Erin muttered as she walked into the restaurant where she hoped to meet with Jared. While the skirt was attractive if she stood stock-still, every time she took a step the textured black material clung to her legs and crept higher. How did women get around in this sort of get-up? There was probably thigh glue or some kind of magical stuff to help with this irritating problem.
And, heavens, the push-up, padded bra Colleen had insisted Erin wear was doing its job—really well. The nasty, stiff thing was pushing up her chest into two mountainlike, unfamiliar structures under the tight, low-cut black stretch top she’d poured herself into. She actually had cleavage.
She stumbled, but managed to catch herself. While she supposed she looked good in the leather torture devices called shoes she’d jammed her feet into in the parking lot, who cared? If she fell on her face in the middle of the restaurant, no one would comment later that she’d looked darn good doing it.
This scheme had better be worth the hassle. She really needed to get her story and get on with her life, out from under the shadow of financial disaster.
She saw Jared in the far corner of the restaurant and relaxed a tad. At least he’d shown up, although she still had doubts about the interview. Jared Warfield seemed like one stubborn guy. But, boy, did he look like her dream date, even from a distance, sitting there all self-assured, his body angled to rest one arm on the back of his chair. His deep-blue, button-down shirt complemented his olive complexion and gave him a casual but successful look she found intriguing and extremely attractive.
His eyes followed her progress toward him, and she felt a feminine thrill at the appreciation glinting in their dark depths. She did look pretty good, didn’t she? She pulled her shoulders back and thrust out her bra-enhanced chest the way Colleen had taught her, then swung her hips as she walked. Yeah, that was it, sway ’em, honey—
“Oof!” The sound popped from her mouth as she collided with a waiter. Before she could catch herself, her heel snagged on the carpet and she was teetering on the edge of a three-inch spike, desperately trying to stay upright. Somehow she managed to keep from falling on her butt. Barely. So much for the sexy routine.
Her face blazing, she looked at Jared and her hopes plummeted. The appreciative look had vanished, and his hand was over his mouth as mirth danced in his eyes. Had she blown her big plan already? Doubt hovered on the edge of her mind, eating away at her confidence in her ability to pull off this sexy act. She was way out of her league.
But humiliation was better than homelessness. She had to do this, so she kept walking.
Jared rose as she reached the table. He extended his hand. “Having a little trouble there?”
Erin shook his hand and his warm touch lit a fire under her skin. Dismayed, she managed to hold in a snappy comeback, remembering the interview. He was no dream date; this was strictly business. “I guess you could say that. My heel caught on the carpet.”
His eyes flicked down briefly. “And your skirt? What did it catch on?”
Erin glanced down and gasped. Between the last tug and the table, her skirt had ridden almost all the way up her thighs. Only an inch or so saved her from total indecency. “Oh, my goodness!” She jerked the wayward garment down. “Darn the thing.”
He smiled and raised an amused brow, but she thought him wise to keep silent. She unhitched the shoulder strap of her briefcase, put it down and plopped onto her chair. Her dignity had been left a few steps back, but she’d have to live with that. She had a job to do.
She looked at Jared. “Mr. Warfield—”
“Jared.”
She nodded stiffly. While she had been thinking “stud-muffin” in her head, she wondered how smart it was to be on a first-name basis with him outside of her thoughts. Deciding not to worry about the small stuff, she said, “Jared, I’m so glad you decided to accept my invitation. To be honest, I wasn’t sure you would.”
His eyes still glinting with suppressed amusement, Jared took a sip of water. “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”
A tiny flare of irritation flashed through her. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “I wanted to find out how desperate you really were.”
“But you’re here for the interview, aren’t you?”
He lifted a single brow. “Maybe I just came for a free lunch. Oh, and thanks for the book.”
Ribbons of concern curled around Erin. This was a last-ditch effort, her one chance to save her financial bacon. She swallowed her concern and smiled the sexy, come-hither way she and Colleen had practiced in front of the mirror, remembering The Plan. “Oh, I have a feeling you’ll cooperate.”
He gave her a strange look, one she couldn’t make sense of. She chose to read it as a positive sign.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She