Possessive Fake Husband

I nod and let him lead me over to the car.12JoshThat evening, I spend all my time on the phone. I make as many calls as I can, getting through to as many board members as possible. Most of them are busy, or their assistants talk to me, but a few actually take my call.

The next morning, I wake Maggie up early. I’m tempted to go right into her room, but I knock on her door until I hear her moving around instead. “What?” she asks as the door open. She’s wearing shorts and a thin t-shirt, and I stare at her gorgeous body for a moment before answering.

“We have a meeting,” I say. “Get showered and dressed.”

“What meeting?”

“I set it up last night,” I say.

“Why so early?” She frowns, looking around. “I thought something was wrong.”

“Sorry. You went to bed before I could tell you about it.”

“Yeah, right. I was tired.” She sighs, closing her eyes for a second. “Anyway, okay, sure, meeting.”

“I want to move before Seb has a chance to talk too much,” I say. “I’m sure he’s already been making calls, especially based on how many board members wouldn’t talk to me, but I think we still have a chance if we move fast.”

“Faster than we already were?” She sighs. “Right. Okay.”

“It’ll be fine. It’ll be good.” I grin and shake my head. “Less thinking, more doing.”

“Right.” She hesitates. “I’m going.”

“Sure, sorry. I guess I can’t stand here while you shower.” I tilt my head. “Unless…?”

She gives me a look then closes the door in my face.

I chuckle and head downstairs. I make coffee and breakfast, and she joins me about a half hour later. We eat, drink, talk to each other in monosyllables, and then head out to the car.

Duncan Trucking’s office is in a suburb just south of the city, not far from the airport. It’s tucked back in a small office park, and we ride along the winding road, staring at tiny signs, until I spot his name. I take the first space available and turn to Maggie.

“Okay,” I say. “Duncan Trucking. He’s sort of in the middle of the list. I didn’t plan on going to him yet, but he took my call, so I figured I might as well try.”

“What’s he like?” she asks.

“He’s not like Guava, if that’s what you mean. I doubt we’ll be washing cars.”

“No, I figured he wouldn’t be. I don’t think there’s another Rupert Guava in this world.”

He laughs. “Trucking is a decent guy. Another lawyer, relatively successful private practice. Pretty standard lawyer stuff.”

“Lawyer stuff, huh?” She grins at me. “Is that the technical term?”

“Yep,” I say and kill the engine. “Come on, let’s go save our companies.”

I get out and she follows along. I head up to the front door and along a creaky, rug-covered floor and stop in an empty waiting room. The receptionist looks up, checks her computer, and smiles.

“Are you Josh?” she asks.

“That’s me.”

“Great. Duncan will be with you in a second. Take a seat.”

I grab a chair against the far wall and Maggie sits down next to me. There are magazines spread out on the coffee table like we’re in a doctor’s office waiting room. Maggie hesitates then grabs a fishing magazine.

“Bass season is big this year,” she says, thumbing through.

“You a big angler?” I ask.

“What’s that?” She frowns at me.

“Angler is slang for a fisherman.”

“Oh, right, totally. I’m a huge angler.” She pretends to cast a rod.

I laugh just as Duncan steps into the waiting room. He’s an older man, thin with graying hair and bushy gray eyebrows. His eyes are dark and sharp, and he’s wearing a well-tailored expensive suit.

“Hello, Josh. And I’m guessing this is your new wife?”

Maggie gets up and puts the magazine down. She walks over and introduces herself. They shake hands as I join them.

“Lovely to meet you,” he says, flashing me a smile. “Now I see why you’d marry the enemy’s daughter.”

“Everyone keeps calling him the enemy,” I say as we follow Duncan back into his office. “But I don’t see it that way.”

“How do you see it?”

“Competitor. And ally.”

He laughs as we step through a door. His office is neat, almost obsessively clean. Everything is in its perfect spot. The filing cabinets each have a letter assigned to them, the books are arranged by last name and genre, and the chairs are immaculate. Duncan gestures for us to sit as he gets behind his own desk. His pens, stationary, even his laptop are placed just so.

“Well then, how can I help you?” he asks. “I’ll admit, I was a little surprised when you called.”

“Were you?” I tilt my head. “I’m sure you’ve heard.”

He smiles. “I’ve heard something, I’ll admit. But I’m not sure what it is just yet.”

I laugh and gesture at Maggie. “Maybe she can tell you.”