Make-Believe Beau. Keli Gwyn
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wouldn’t be. Not really. You’d just be enjoying each other’s company.”
Flynt fought to keep his frustration in check. “We’d be intentionally misleading my team. And others.”
“It would only be temporary. Besides—” Corby grinned “—you might enjoy yourself. Jessie’s easy on the eyes. She’s bright, too. You’d be able to talk about all manner of things.”
Before Flynt could come up with a suitable response, Corby shifted his attention to Jessie, who sat wide-eyed and curiously silent. “And you wouldn’t mind being seen on the arm of a handsome young man like Flynt, now, would you, Jessie?”
Her mouth opened and her lips moved, but no sound came out. A becoming shade of pink stained her cheeks. Flynt sent her an apologetic smile, but she appeared to be staring at her hands resting in her lap.
Corby barged ahead, seemingly unaware of Jessie’s embarrassment. “Say the word, son, and I’ll consider the matter resolved. For now.”
Flynt had to do something. He could turn Corby down—and would, if he had his way—but refusing would adversely affect Jessie. Her position depended on his participation in Corby’s ploy. If work slowed because of her, Corby would secure a replacement. A draftsman. Flynt couldn’t let that happen. He wanted her on his team, even though having her there could change things. Would change things.
But he didn’t want to be her suitor, real or otherwise. “If you’ll give me time, I’ll find another solution.” One that didn’t put Jessie in such a difficult position.
“We don’t have time. We’re behind as it is. The directors want to see progress. If we don’t make that happen, you and I will be the ones they take to task.” Corby assumed a wheedling tone. “Would it really be such a hardship to enjoy Jessie’s company?”
Jessie lifted her head. Sadness flitted through her eyes. She quickly schooled her features but said nothing.
Flynt had seen enough. “The whole thing smacks of unfairness. She shouldn’t have to agree to something like this in order to secure her position.”
Corby heaved a sigh. “I didn’t want to be forced to pull rank, but you leave me no choice, son. If you don’t agree, Jessie can pack her things and go.”
“I’ll do it.” Flynt blew out a breath. “But I won’t take any money for it.”
Jessie’s hand flew to her throat, and her lovely lips parted.
“Why not?” Corby eased himself from the desk. “The board is pleased with your work. I’m sure they’d agree to give you a bonus.”
“Because helping her is the right thing to do.”
And because spending additional time with her appealed to him far more than it should.
A rap on the door frame drew Jessie’s attention. She turned from the window seat, where she’d been ever since supper, replaying the scene in Corby’s office. Her snowy-haired landlady, Maybelle Monroe, stood just inside Jessie’s bedchamber. “There’s a gentleman to see you. The handsome fellow’s waiting in the parlor.”
“A man? For me? Did you get his name?”
“I didn’t. I was so taken with his beautiful red hair I forgot to ask.” Maybelle grinned.
Tingles danced up Jessie’s spine. Even though the temperature was still in the high eighties, she shivered. “That would be Flynt. He’s the engineer I work for.”
“And he’s calling on you in the evening?” The boardinghouse owner raised an eyebrow. “Interesting.”
Jessie opened her mouth to protest but stopped herself in time. If she was to convince others Flynt was courting her, she had to act the part. “Interesting, indeed. I wonder if he’s here on business or...”
“Well, don’t dawdle. Get on downstairs and find out.”
Maybelle followed Jessie down the hallway. “Pinch your cheeks on the way down, dear. That’ll add some nice color.”
“I’ll do that.” Jessie smiled. She rejoiced inwardly at having passed her first test. If Maybelle suspected there was more to her relationship with Flynt, surely others would, too.
She entered the parlor moments later, and Flynt shot to his feet. “Good evening, Jessie. We need to talk.”
He’d certainly gotten right to the point. “I agree, but it’s rather warm inside. We could go out back. There’s a porch swing under an oak tree where we’d have shade.” And some privacy. She wouldn’t have to keep up appearances.
“Since it is so hot, I thought we could go to Mr. Sieg’s ice-cream parlor.”
“Oh.” He was taking her out in public? Already?
His brow furrowed. “You do like ice cream, don’t you?”
Ice cream? Yes. His company? Yes and no. She would enjoy looking at him and talking with him. But she wanted no part of feigning attraction for the sake of others. “Of course. Who doesn’t?”
He smiled. “That’s more like it. After you, then.” He swept a hand toward the front door.
The short walk down Coloma Street passed quickly. Too quickly. Before Jessie knew it, she was seated across from Flynt. The buzz of conversations filled the air, along with a tantalizing mix of scents—tangy lemon, spicy ginger, fresh mint and many more. Her mouth watered.
Thankfully their table was in the back of the shop away from the windows and curious passersby. Although Flynt was supposedly courting her, she had no idea what he expected.
She studied the menu board. “Which flavor’s your favorite?”
“I can’t choose just one. Can you?”
“I generally get vanilla.”
He chuckled. “And here I thought you were adventurous. You’re a draftswoman, after all, challenging the likes of engineers and draftsmen everywhere.”
A friendly waiter took their order and returned with their choices in no time. Jessie scooped a hearty bite and savored the rich, creamy dessert.
The bell on the door rang, and Flynt glanced that way. “Speaking of challenging draftsmen, Kurt just entered. He’s spotted us. Pretend I’ve said something witty and laugh.”
The strangled sound she emitted sounded more like a snicker, but what could Flynt expect when he’d taken her by surprise?
“All that got us was raised eyebrows. Could you do something else? Look at me like you’re smitten perhaps?”
Now, that she could do. She’d seen Miss Maggie’s girls cast scores of admiring glances at men during her days at the High Stakes. She sent one Flynt’s way.
His spoon clattered to the table, and his eyes went as round as the tabletop. He leaned forward and spoke softly. His voice held a hint of humor. “You certainly took me at my word. Anyone looking our way would have no doubt you’re attracted to me.”
Mortification sent heat racing to her cheeks. She’d acted in haste, realizing too late that the looks Maggie’s girls gave weren’t the type nice, respectable women copied. Eager to shift the focus from herself, she cast a glance at Kurt, who stood waiting for a table to become available. His mouth hung open. She forced an airy laugh such as she’d intended to produce earlier. “Well, my exuberance did serve a purpose. Kurt might not have suspected anything before, but he does now.”
“Indeed.” Flynt raked a hand through his hair. The unruly lock fell across his forehead. As much as she wanted to brush it back into place, she couldn’t. He had the bearing of a cat ready to pounce.