Plus One Love: The Wedding Party Series

2. Amy

I stareat the sexy man in front of me. I know who he is and have seen pictures, but they don’t do him justice. Until now, I’ve never understood the whole “silver fox” thing, but as I stare this man with light brown hair streaked with silver on top and the shaved silver sides, I get it. Add in the touches of silver threading through his close-cut circle beard, highlighting his strong, square jaw, and I can barely think straight.

When Elise called, telling me she’d decided to change her plans, accepting an offer from one of her other bed partners for a week in Europe, I hadn’t thought anything of it. At least until she told me that my weekend off was cancelled because she was sending me with Mr. More in her place. Oh, and since she was already supposed to be meeting him at the private airport, I needed to rush there, not even stopping to pack more than what I carried in my go bag. Working for Elise, she’d made me pack one with approved clothing because she didn’t want me to make her look like a poor boss even though she was… always pulling shit like this, although never this bad and never this late.

But like a good girl, and since she held my life in her hands, I’d jumped to it, racing across the city to get to the airport. It didn’t matter that I’d been in the middle of trying to find a new place to live. A problem I shouldn’t have had since I’d graduated top of my class with an MBA from Wharton, but dad owed money to Elise, including some of the “windfall” money he gave me for school. Little did I know that he’d signed over my services to help pay it all back which meant most of my “salary” went to pay back the debt, leaving me trapped.

“I know that you need a plus one for a colleague’s son’s wedding and that there’re events all weekend, but other than that…” I shrug as I get lost in his grey-blue eyes.

He taps his fingers on the arm rest as the plane’s engines whine, signifying we’re about to takeoff. I double check my seatbelt since my view of him is cutoff when Brittany bends over him, ostensibly to check his belt. But when I glance back at him, he’s staring at me, examining me. I squirm under his gaze. It’s like being judged by a father but worse. It’s more intense and when my father looks at me that way, I don’t imagine ripping off his clothes.

“How did you end up working for Elise? Schooling?”

I swallow, pushing the dirty thoughts about him out of my mind. I know he’s important and if I can ever escape my fate of working for Elise, working for MoreFam Cor in any capacity would be the ultimate dream. I can’t afford to screw up my chances with him. And I can’t have him saying anything bad about me to Elise, even if he’s upset with her for backing out at last minute, because who knows what Elise will do to me. Ugh. This is a no-win situation for me. But I’ve been in them before and come out okay. I just need to have faith in myself and my skills.

“I graduated from Wharton with an MBA in marketing and strategic management. As for Elise, she’s a family friend”—yes, I’m stretching the truth, but I’m not about tell him the complete truth—“and willingly gave me a job where I can learn more and make connections.”

He nods, but his gaze narrows, like he’s trying to get me to crack, knowing I’m not being fully truthful. “Well at least she didn’t send me some airhead like her last few Pas and she’s older than I thought if she’s a Wharton grad,” he says in a low enough volume that I don’t think I’m supposed to hear. At a regular volume he continues, “There’s a lot of important business contacts attending this wedding. I need someone on my arm who can discreetly gather information for me as well as looking like a girlfriend.” He nods with a quick jerk of his head as if he’s made some decision in his mind. “There’ll be a lot of people who might be useful in your future. I don’t mind if you network, but you can’t make me look bad and no sleeping with any of them, even if they offer you a job.”

My mouth pops open in shock as he stands and heads towards the front where there’s a bathroom. Did he just suggest that I’d prostitute myself for a job? I’d heard he was honest, a straight-shooter, and blunt, but I never would have expected to hear him say that. It’s making me rethink all my dreams about wanting to work for MoreFam Cor.

I’m not sure what makes me look up, but I almost wish I hadn’t. Brittany is pressing herself against Mr. More, rubbing up against him as if she’s in heat. But he basically calls me a whore. The indignation is real in my head as I watch her slide her fingers down his abdomen, heading towards his crotch, drawing my gaze to the hard bulge his dress pants can’t conceal. The urge to get up and rip her hands away because he’s mine fights with my need to look away. I shouldn’t be watching this even if they’re doing it right in front of me. It’s takes a lot of strength and fortitude, but I lower my gaze to my clasped hands on my lap.

I shouldn’t care if he’s screwing the help. It’s not like I didn’t already know he would have been spending this weekend screwing Elise’s brains out. Obviously, without her, he’s looking for a replacement. But knowing that I don’t even garner a second look… that hurts.

A hurt I should be very familiar with by now.

Guys don’t choose me. And the few who did, who decided I was worthy, never lasted long once they realized how smart I was. Men in business seem to like either airheads or ones who look like a Barbie while hiding their smarts. Elise is the exception. She’s powerful because she inherited her family’s businesses and she’s their titular head. But most of her success is from putting in the right people at the top instead of smarts. But for all that, her power is only translated into a little black book of men’s names to sleep with. None of them are family men even if some of them are married. That’s not the type of life I want. And I refuse to accept anything less than full respect from a potential spouse.

Lost in thought, I jump when a large hand stops in front of my face. As I lift my gaze, Mr. More crouches, bringing his head down to my height. “I know that you’ll be a big help this weekend, but can I get your help now? Can you trust me?”

The deep rumble of his voice lights a fire in me. Shit. I want him. With him in front of me, I can’t deny how attracted I am to him. I try to tell myself not to give in, not when he was just letting Brittany slide all over him. But the earnest, almost pleading look in his eyes, has me nodding.

“Thank you.” He drops his hand to my lap, coming awfully close to where I ache as he undoes my seatbelt. Without saying anything, he then grabs my hand, pulling me up to my feet.

“Micah”—at the sound of Brittany calling him by his given name, he stiffens, turning to look at her while continuing to hold my hand. I can’t see his face, but it must be chilling because Brittany gulps and simmers as she continues, “I-I mean, Mr. More, where are you heading, I’ve got your drink ready for you.”

“Thanks Brittany, you can bring the drinks back to the bedroom”—her face lights up, only to fall as he continues—“Amy and I will be spending the flight in there.”

He turns back to me, pressing his front into my back, wrapping himself around me. I want to melt into him, but I know that I’m the excuse. A way to get away from Brittany’s over the top actions. Now that I’m thinking a little clearer since I’m not having to witness her all over him, I remember hearing that he’s got a strict no dating policy for himself within his company. Even his employees have a strict protocol they need to follow if they want to be involved in an interoffice romance. And since he owns this aircraft, Brittany falls into the “no dating” rule, something she should be aware of.

“Let me show you the bedroom.” The whisper of his lips brushing my ear has my body wanting to break out in a shiver, but I manage to stop it. I don’t need him to think I’m like Brittany, not when he’s already suggested I’d be a type of prostitute to get ahead.

And that’s something I need to remember because I can easily see myself falling for his charms this weekend.