Michelle Celmer

Exposed: Her Undercover Millionaire


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Paige wouldn’t have believed it possible, when he mentioned the tux was for a charitable event, she even offered to upgrade him to a more expensive brand for no extra cost. Then Brandon mentioned that Paige was an event planner and the woman must have seen potential future revenue. She became friendly to the point of being sticky sweet. Paige doubted she would ever return, though. Having a salesperson treat her clients rudely, even for five minutes, reflected badly on her company. It was a chance she couldn’t take.

      “So, that was an interesting experience,” Brandon said when they were in the truck and on the way back to her office.

      “I should apologize. I’ve never used that store before. And I never will again.”

      “Why not?”

      “After the way she treated us when we came in? It was totally unprofessional. And I don’t understand how you could be nice to her when she was so condescending.”

      He shrugged. “I like to give people the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she was really busy. Or maybe she was just having a bad day and needed someone to cheer her up.”

      “That’s still no excuse to be rude to people.”

      He glanced over at her. “You can’t tell me you’ve never had a bad day. Never snapped at someone who maybe didn’t deserve it.”

      “Never a client.”

      “Well, you’re a better person than most.”

      Or maybe she’d just learned to keep her emotions out of her business. And she considered it a shame that someone with Brandon’s impressive people skills would be stuck in a career as a ranch hand. He could do so much more with his life if only he were properly motivated. Now that his reading skills had improved, he could get his GED and go to college.

      Not that it was any of her business what he did with his life, she reminded herself. As an image consultant, helping people make serious life changes was a part of her business, and she loved what she did. But as Brandon had clearly stated earlier, he was happy just the way he was. And technically, he wasn’t even her client. He only needed the skills to hold his own at the gala. Beyond that, she had no right sticking her nose into his life. It was just a shame to see all that potential go to waste.

      She noticed that Brandon missed the turn back to her office.

      “You should have turned there,” she told him, gesturing in the direction of the street they’d just passed. Maybe, being unfamiliar with the area, he’d forgotten which route to take.

      “I know where I’m going,” he said.

      “But that’s the way back to my office. This route will take you several miles out of your way.” And into one of the slightly less reputable parts of town. And she was on a tight schedule. It was already well after four, but she could probably sneak in a phone call or two before business hours were officially over, then do some internet research on a 60th anniversary party she was planning.

      “Maybe I’m not taking you back to your office.”

      Her heart gave a sudden start. What was that supposed to mean?

      What if getting in the truck with him hadn’t been such a hot idea after all? What did she really know about him? He was attractive and charming, but so was Ted Bundy.

      She glanced over at him. He leaned back casually, one hand resting on the steering wheel, the other propped in the open window. Not at all like he was about to pounce or pull a gun on her.

      Just in case, she slid a little closer to the door, ready to shove it open the second the truck came to a stop if necessary. “Where are you taking me?”

      He glanced over at her and grinned. “Relax. I’m not kidnapping you. I just thought I would take you out for a drink. Consider it my way of showing you my appreciation.”

      She let out a relieved breath and relaxed back in her seat. “That’s really not necessary. Hannah’s Hope will compensate me for my time.”

      “Well, I’d like to do it, anyway.”

      “I really need to get back to work.”

      “It’s almost five on a Friday.”

      Four twenty-seven to be precise. And the longer they drove in the wrong direction, the later she would be getting back. “I planned to work late.”

      They stopped for a red light and he turned to her, looking puzzled. “Why?”

      Because I have no life, was the first answer that popped into her head. Sad as that was. But that was not the reason. “I have obligations.”

      “Which I’m sure can wait until tomorrow.” The light turned green and he accelerated. “Am I right?”

      “Technically, yes, but—”

      “So, wouldn’t you rather be doing something fun?”

      “Work is fun.”

      He raised a brow at her.

      “You don’t enjoy work?” she asked.

      “Not on a Friday night,” he said, giving her a sideways glance. “You look like a woman who knows how to navigate a dance floor.”

      Actually, she was a terrible dancer. She was so uncoordinated, she couldn’t even manage simple aerobics. She was always two steps behind the rest of the group. “Well, I’m not. And I really need to get back to the office.”

      “No, you don’t,” he said. Just like that. As if she had no say in the matter.

      He pulled into the lot of Billie’s, a small, shabby-looking, country-and-western bar that she never would have ventured into on her own. Too many disturbing memories of pulling her mom, who was usually too intoxicated to walk unaided, out of a place just like it in the small Nevada town where she grew up.

      And before she could insist that he turn the truck around and take her back to her office immediately, he was out the door and walking around to her side.

      He pulled it open and held out a hand to help her down.

      “I can’t do this,” she said.

      “It’s just one small step down to the ground,” he said with a dimpled grin. “I promise I’ll catch you if you fall.”

      The mischief in his eyes said he knew that wasn’t what she meant, and his teasing grin warmed her from the inside out. Did the man have to be so adorable?

      “I have a strict policy of not socializing with clients.”

      “That’s a good policy. But I’m not one of your clients.”

      Damn it, he had her there. “But Hannah’s Hope is my client, and by extension, so are you.”

      It was a flimsy excuse at best, and she could see that he wasn’t buying it. She expected some snappy comeback, but instead he sobered, his eyes earnest.

      “The thing is, I don’t know a lot of people in town and it can get lonely sometimes.”

      Wow. She hadn’t been expecting that. That kind of brutal honesty. He was making it really hard to tell him no.

      “I’m sure there are any number of women in there who would be happy to have a drink with you.” Among other things.

      “But I want to have a drink with you.

      She couldn’t deny hearing those words, seeing the earnestness in his eyes, was just a little thrilling. And strangely enough, she wanted to get to know him better. There was something about Brandon that fascinated her. And not just his good looks, although she couldn’t deny she was attracted to him.

      How sad was the state of her personal life when a gorgeous, sexy man asked her out for a drink and she wanted to work instead? When had she become so obsessed with success that she couldn’t take a few hours off to have a little fun?

      Or,