Try Me On for Size (6 page)

And if he happened to run into Mia while there, that wouldn’t be a bad thing.

After jotting down the shop’s address, Oliver grabbed his suit jacket. Fifteen minutes later he opened the door to Classy ’n’ Sassy, a bell jingling above his head. He looked around, seeing no one. Just pink walls, lacy and satiny things on hangers. A rack of lotions and potions to his left, a shelf of sexy slippers to his right. Yep. Typical lingerie store.

But then he noticed the giant poster on the wall reading Coming Soon!

“Can I help you?” a voice behind him asked.

Before he even turned, he knew it wasn’t Mia. The blonde smiled at him. This must be Bryn.

“Um, yeah. I need a . . . um . . . gift.”

“I’m great at helping men find gifts. Tell me about her.”

“Well, I was wondering about this poster.”

“Oh, that’s for our new line. We’re branching out and expanding the shop. All kinds of fun toys and such.”

He nodded. “So what’s this on the poster about meeting the man behind the toy?”

Bryn’s cheeks flushed. “We’re going to have our own custom toy. We’re in the process of finding our model now.”

“So, you’re looking for a man . . . to use his . . .”

“Yep. We’re gonna mold him. He’ll be doing appearances at the shop and everything. A spokesperson, or rather, spokespenis.”

Oliver smiled and let out a brief laugh. That explained a lot. He’d wondered why Mia needed to feel him in different positions. She’d been testing him out to see if he’d make a good sex toy. “That’s . . . different.”

“We know it’s risky, but we really need to take the shop in a new direction.” She turned back to the poster, her voice lowering to a mumble he almost couldn’t hear. “Or we’ll cease to exist.”

Was Mia in danger of losing her shop, her job? He couldn’t let that happen.

“So what kind of stuff does your girlfriend like?” Bryn asked, shaking him from his thoughts.

“Oh, um, maybe I’ll wait. I don’t know what she’d like. Thank you, though.”

“You’re welcome. Thanks for stopping in.”

She left him to tend to a customer at the register and he turned back to the poster. Now he wanted the job more than ever. He wanted to be the one to help Mia save her shop. And maybe the job would help him, too. No way would Alexiana marry a penis model.

He hoped his problems were on their way to being solved.

CHAPTER
Six

Y
ou’re home
early,” Alexiana said without looking up from her copy of
Vogue
.

Oliver stepped toward the chair and sat. “I couldn’t concentrate, so I left.”

Not another word as she flipped pages, dressed to the nines, hair and makeup done.

“Going somewhere?”

“No.”

“Then why are you dressed like that? Wouldn’t it be more comfortable to wear something else if you’re lounging around the house?” He pictured Mia’s soft sweatshirt hiding a toned, curvy body. And her loose natural hairstyle, longing to bury his face in it again.

“I don’t lounge. And comfort looks horrendous.”

Even in her own home she needed to uphold her image. How had he ever thought a girl like Alexiana was for him? Had he ever really pictured a future with her?

The two had been pushed together by their parents after years of friendship. They’d played together as young kids, way before Alexiana had turned into a snobby socialite like her mother. Oliver recalled the many times they’d swum and played Marco Polo at his family’s summer cottage. But he started high school and she hit puberty, and it all changed.

After six years away earning his bachelor’s and MBA, he’d come home to start his adult life, and there was Alexiana, sexy as hell. He’d wanted to rekindle their friendship—what guy wouldn’t want to get close to a woman like that—but she’d changed. She wasn’t interested in being friends with the boy she once knew—she was only interested in finding a man. Their families were still close, and after a few years of nagging from both sets of parents, he’d asked her out on a real date.

If he’d known then where he’d be now, he’d have definitely run far away. Amazing how an unplanned pregnancy and forced marriage proposal could ruin a friendship. Especially when he suspected the pregnancy might not even be real. She wasn’t above faking it to get what she wanted.

Oliver needed an out. And he just might have one. If that “out” also led him to a woman he actually liked spending time with, all the better.

“I decided to get a second job.”

“Why?” Alexiana crinkled her nose and looked up for the first time since he’d walked in the door. “It’s not like we need the money.”

That was true. He made good money and they both had trust funds. “It’s not about the money. I’m bored. I need something new.”

“But you’re keeping your real job, right?”

“Of course.” The daily tasks of an investment banker weren’t exactly thrilling, but he’d worked too long and hard, becoming the youngest senior account manager in the firm’s history. He wasn’t giving it up. But he did need something else in his life that brought him some kind of joy and excitement.

“Do whatever you want, then.”

He hadn’t been looking for permission, but he did want her to know. He wanted her to be pissed.

“I already interviewed for a job. It’s a modeling gig at a lingerie boutique.”

That made the magazine flop backward onto her lap. “What?”

“They’re expanding their product line and need a model.” He thought of telling her exactly what the modeling was for, but decided to hold that in.

Alexiana snorted. “Seriously? You’re toned and all, but model material? Highly unlikely.” She brought her magazine back up.

“Well, the owner seemed to really like me. She thinks I’ll be perfect for in-store appearances.”

The magazine dropped again. “What does that mean?”

“Whoever they choose for the job will be a spokesperson for the store. Customers will come in and pose for pictures, maybe even get autographs.”

“You can’t do something like that. That’s just . . . gross. Desperate women fawning over you? You’re not doing that. Call the store and tell them you changed your mind.”

“No. It sounds fun and I want to do it.”

Flames flared inside her pupils. This was definitely getting the reaction he’d hoped for.

She stood and slammed her
Vogue
onto the glass-top coffee table. “I will not be married to some man-slut. Can you even imagine what people will say about you . . . us . . . me? Our
baby
? A baby can’t have a father like that.”

He looked her up and down. Form-fitted top, skinny jeans, shoes that could kill a man. Three months along, and not even a hint of baby belly or pregnancy pounds.

“I don’t care what people think. Never have.”

“Oh, yes you do. What would your mother think about this little job of yours? I’m sure she’d be real happy about her only son parading around in his underwear.”

“Leave my mother out of this.”

“Can you imagine the strain this would put on her delicate heart? I’m not sure she could survive it.”

What a bitch. Of course she’d use his mother’s illness to control him. She’d been doing it for years. Her manipulative words from the past echoed in his brain.

“We must stay together. Your mother’s heart wouldn’t be able to handle the breakup.”

“Think of how happy the pregnancy news will make your mother.”

“We have to get married. Your mother can’t take the embarrassment of a bastard grandchild.”

His mother was weak and any kind of stress could harm her—like, say, not proposing to his pregnant girlfriend.

Alexiana had backed him into a corner again and was using his love for his mother against him. All he wanted to do was make his mother happy, even if it meant the destruction of his own happiness. Somehow he had to figure a way out.

But in the meantime, he had to make Alexiana think he was unfazed by her threats. And if he could grab a little bit of joy by tormenting her, all the better. She deserved it. And maybe, if he annoyed her enough, she’d leave him. Problem solved.

Oliver shrugged out of his suit jacket. “Well, you never know. My mother might think it’s wonderful; her son being adored by women. And who knows? It could turn into something really huge. I could do a show in Vegas or something.”

The disgusted scowl across her face was all he needed. Mission complete. He headed to the bedroom, struggling to contain his laughter.

MIA WALKED
up the steps to the mansion she’d moved into when she was only thirteen years old. Before that, they’d lived in a much smaller home, in a typical suburban neighborhood a block away from Bryn’s parents’ house. But then the car dealership had taken off and within two years’ time, Mia’s dad owned the largest megadealership in the entire county. They built a huge house on a ten-acre plot of land on the outskirts of Kenville and Mia could no longer walk through the school hallway without someone rambling off her dad’s motto from his TV commercial: Bring me your trade; I’ll make it rain.

The thirty-second spots had always embarrassed her. After rambling like an auctioneer, spitting details about the cars on his lots, he’d delivered his famed line and threw handfuls of fake dollars in the air. And it hadn’t even rhymed properly.

Eighteen years later, he was still making those corny commercials. And still using that corny line. She flipped the channel whenever one came on.

Mia usually stayed away from her parents’ place, because her visits weren’t really visits. They were hours filled with nagging. The only reason she’d agreed to tonight’s gathering was her mother’s birthday.

Gift bag in hand, Mia opened the door and let herself in. Nothing. “Hello?”

The faint sound of laughter drifted to her ears. She followed it to the dining room.

“There you are. Where the hell have you been?” The Great Antonio Montanari demanded.

What’s up his ass? “It’s six oh five. You said be here at six.”

“No. I said dinner was at six. Chef Rene has already served the appetizer.”

Only the best for the Montanari family. Her father had hired his favorite private chef to cook for the event.

“Sit down. Your mussels are getting cold.”

Yuck!
He knew she didn’t eat shellfish. Mia sat anyway and smiled at her mother. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” she said and continued eating, the whole table now silent.

Where’d the laughter go?
Gee.
I show up and the mood is killed.
What’s new?

“So . . . Mia,” her mother started after dabbing the corners of her mouth with a linen napkin. “How are you? How are things at the store?”

The hired help took away the appetizer plates, hers untouched. “Good. We’re trying something new that will hopefully be successful for the shop.”

“I heard about this
thing
you’re doing?” her father said.

Mia’s gaze shot to Riley, suddenly engrossed in her manicure.

“Sounds vulgar if you ask me. No woman in her right mind is going to spend hard-earned money on that crap. Why would you do something so stupid?”

Here we go again.
“Please don’t assume you know anything about my business.”

“I don’t need to know anything about the bra business to know this is a waste of time and money. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. Are you trying to ruin your reputation? Do you want to be a porn peddler? Hell, it sounds to me like you’re a pimp, hiring a prostitute.”

Eyes wide, Mia fought to keep her jaw in place instead of it falling into her lap. But as the shock faded, anger boiled inside her stomach. He had no right to insult her like that. This was exactly why she hated coming to family functions. “That’s not what we’re doing. We’re trying to save our business.”

“Why on earth would you even try to do that? For a measly forty grand a year?”

Well, that showed what he knew! It was actually thirty, now that they’d had to cut their salaries.

“If you work for me, I can more than double that.”

“At the cost of my soul,” she mumbled.

“What was that?” her father bellowed.

“Nothing.” She stared him right in the eyes. “My answer is the same as it’s always been. I will never come work for you.”

He shook his head and downed his red wine.

“Please, sweetie?” her mother begged.

Come on. Now she was starting?

“It’s so hard for your sister to be home alone all the time. If you work for your father, Nico can be home more with Riley and Gianna. And now with the baby coming, how will she ever manage?”

“I thought she was hiring a nanny.”

“Oh, no. A stranger is no substitute for a mother or father. Please, dear. Your father and sister need you.”

“Mom, I can’t.” Tears welled in Mia’s eyes. Her mother was the only one in her family with even an ounce of compassion. She had to understand this. “I need to be my own person. I need to succeed on my own.”

“What’s so wrong with helping your family, and being helped by them? Could you do it part time? I think it would bring us so much closer.”

Mia remembered a time when they were close. Summers camping at the lake, roasting marshmallows and canoeing, laughing like idiots when they’d tip over. Winters were spent sledding, snowmobiling, even ice fishing. The days had always ended with hot chocolate and doughnuts.

But that was long before the birth of Montanari Motors. When her dad was just a plain old salesman. Amazing how things had changed since his success. Once upon a time she had a caring and loving dad who would never yell at her across the dinner table.

If her father hadn’t turned into such a demanding, controlling, and overall horrible person, it would be different. Maybe she could work for him. But she already knew how it would go: for a week, she’d be the prodigal daughter returned. And then the faultfinding would begin, until nothing she did was good enough for The Great Antonio Montanari.

But that wasn’t the only reason. “I love my job and I shouldn’t have to give that up. For anyone.” Mia hated stabbing her mother in the heart and watching the pain in her eyes, especially on her birthday.

“Of course you won’t give up that job,” Riley added. “Cause then Bryn would be all alone and we know you won’t do that.”

Mia’s head whipped toward her sister, eyes narrowed. What a bitch. She wasn’t even going to justify that with a response. She stood as she folded her napkin and laid it over her plate. “I’m gonna go. Enjoy the rest of your dinner.”

Before anyone could object, though it would probably only be her mother, Mia left the room and headed out the door. An hour earlier, she may have been stupid enough to think she could still be part of this family, but she had certainly smartened up. She’d taken all she could and she wouldn’t be making the same mistake again.