Judy Christenberry - Rent A Millionaire Groom

James turned to Elise, whose cheeks were rosy red. “You found me in a book?”

“No, not exactly,” Elise said. “It said to look at your neighbors. I told you there weren’t any neighbors who would do, but when I thought about work, I remembered the Drama Department. It sounded like the perfect place to find someone who could—pretend.”

“Makes sense,” he agreed. Then he turned to Daisy. “I know it’s none of my business, but why are you looking for a man? I mean, why do you have to look? I would think any of you could have your choice of men.”

“That’s sweet of you,” Phoebe said with a smile, “but Daisy is the only one looking.”

“And it’s because my biological clock is ticking,” Daisy hurriedly added. “I’m ready to have a child.”

James’s eyes widened. “I think I’m glad I’m helping out Elise and not you.”

“I’m not looking for anything temporary,” Daisy said, squaring her jaw. “I was raised without a father. I won’t do that to my child.”

“Good for you,” he agreed. Then he reached over and picked up Elise’s hand. “How’s your biological clock, sweetheart?”

Elise snatched her hand away. “Just fine, thank you. Remember all those sisters? Who do you think took care of them?”

“Your brother?” he teased, knowing the answer.

“Not hardly.”

“I can’t wait to meet this brother, raised with seven sisters. He’s either overwhelmingly masculine, in self-defense, or he learned to play with dolls.”

“Definitely the first,” Elise said without hesitation.

James looked at the other two.

“We couldn’t tell you,” Phoebe said. “We’ve never met him. He doesn’t come around often.”

“He’s an attorney and has long hours,” Elise said. “I talk to him on the phone, but he doesn’t have a lot of spare time.”

“I guess his job is the reason you said he wouldn’t be marching down the aisle anytime soon.”

Elise nodded.

James knew most people would classify him in the same group. And they’d be right. Which explained why he’d questioned Elise’s motives early on. But somehow he just didn’t see deceit being her strong point.

“So, do you think Elise and I will be able to pull this thing off?”

He read the doubt on her friends’ faces.

“Well, you have three weeks,” Phoebe said. “And you’re an actor. But I don’t know about Elise.”

“Hey! I can pretend,” Elise protested.

Daisy chuckled. “You can’t even pay an insincere compliment, Elise. She blushes a bright red when she tries,” she added to James. “If we really want to know if we’ve bought something we shouldn’t have, we ask Elise.”

Elise scowled at Daisy, but James saw the concern in her gaze. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll teach you method acting. You’ll do fine.” He knew that much from Bobby.

Phoebe chuckled. “Is that your style of acting?”

James knew she understood what he meant, but Elise still didn’t have a clue. “It works best, especially for beginners.”

Their dinners arrived at that moment. The food was good, the conversation even better.

James decided he’d learned more about Elise than he would have on their own. In particular, he noted her friends’ remarks about her honesty.

Sylvia had been an expert liar.

Several hours later, the two friends excused themselves, both claiming chores that had to be done that evening before bedtime.

“I enjoyed meeting your friends, but they don’t seem practical types—especially Phoebe,” James said after they’d left.

“She’s very beautiful.”

“None of you are going to be used on wanted posters, sweetheart,” he said with a chuckle. “But she seems more the movie-star type. Like maybe she’s an actress, too.”

“She was at one time, but her heart wasn’t in it. She’s…got other plans now.”

“Interesting friends.”

Elise said thanks, but she looked away.

“Are you upset that we joined them?”

“No, of course not,” she hurriedly said, and smiled at him.

But it wasn’t her best smile.

“I figured once you met them, you’d want to get to know them better,” she said.

He stared at her. “Are you implying I’m more interested in them than I am in you?” He couldn’t believe she’d think that.

“It doesn’t matter. We’re pretending, remember? I need to excuse myself. I’ll be back in a minute.”

James stared after her, confused.

“YOU IDIOT!” Elise addressed herself in the mirror. “You’re the one who keeps forgetting. How could you let him know that you’re jealous.”

She powdered her nose and tried to get up the courage to return to the table. It had been an enlightening evening. For her. She’d discovered James had an infinite capacity for charm. And that she was way too interested in him.

What was she going to do now? Start over?

“Oh, yeah, I can see me telling James he won’t do.”

“I beg your pardon?” said a young woman who’d just come out of one of the stalls.

“Sorry, I was talking to myself.” She rushed from the ladies’ room, embarrassed by her foolishness.

No, she couldn’t back out now. Besides, James was perfect for the role. And she didn’t really have any interest in him. All the reasons for not choosing him for Daisy applied to Elise, too.

If she ever did consider marriage, it would be to a man who centered his world around her. Not the opposite. Actors were notoriously egotistical.

Which had been Richard’s strong suit, too.

She reached the table, but she didn’t bother to sit down. “Are you ready? I need to get home. I have some papers to grade.”

“Sure. But I’m waiting for George to bring back my credit card.”

Rather than just stand there like an idiot, she sat. “Okay.”

George instantly appeared, and James signed the ticket.

She popped up like a jack-in-the-box as soon as he finished writing.

“You are in a hurry, aren’t you,” he said, frowning.

“I have an early class tomorrow.” And a faulty resistance system for handsome men, apparently.

“Okay. So our next date—I mean, research meeting, should be Friday night, so you can sleep late the next morning.”

“But today is Wednesday. We don’t need to meet that often, do we?” she asked, hoping she was hiding her concern.

“Only if you want to convince your sisters. We still have a lot to learn about each other.”

She supposed that was true. It seemed to her he’d spent most of his time talking to her friends, so she didn’t think it was her fault they had to go out more often.

When they got in the car and he’d backed out into traffic, she said, “What’s your favorite color?”

He looked at her, surprise on his face. Then, with a smile, he said, “Green.”

She turned bright red since she was wearing green and he was staring at her sweater. “Oh. I didn’t know.”

“And yours?”

Her favorite color was green, too, but she didn’t want to say that now. He’d think she was just saying that to agree with him.

“Red,” she said firmly. “Red is my favorite color.”

“I’m not surprised. It matches your cheeks,” he pointed out, a grin on his lips.

She hoped he didn’t remember Daisy’s comment about her lies.

“Are you a morning person, or a night person?” she asked, hoping a change of subject would help her equilibrium.

“Do I have to be one or the other?”

That response startled her. “Isn’t everyone?”

“I guess I’m more night than morning, but I don’t like to sleep late. I don’t need a lot of sleep.”

“And I suppose you think people who do are lazy?”

He took his gaze off the road, frowning at her. “Are you trying to pick a fight with me?”