His Hired Girlfriend Read online

  His Hired Girlfriend

  by

  A.C Praks

  SMASHWORDS EDITION

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  PUBLISHED BY:

  A.C Praks on Smashwords

  Copyright © 2012 by A.C Praks.

  All rights reserved.

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  Smashwords Edition License Notes

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  Also by A.C. Praks, published at Smashword:

  Desire (A Nine Kingdoms Book Series)

  A Secret Admirer (A Romance Short Story)

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  PROLOGUE

  SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA

  SHOCKED TO THE CORE – Jayden wondered if this was what it would feel like in that vital moment when you realised that you just might die. His body was numb, brain frozen, and his heart pounding like a hijacked steam train about to plunge over the cliff’s edge. The world stopped – or perhaps time, the world and everything in it, had ceased to have meaning for him.

  The richness of the Sheraton’s Ambassador Suite surrounded him, as it had for the last three days, but his eyes saw none of it. The Victorian style décor, the luxurious furnishings, the majestic views of Hyde Park and Sydney Harbour, all faded from sight. The air, once heady with the scent of fresh roses and vanilla, now stank of betrayal. He felt a queasy sickness settle into the pit of his stomach as the bouquet of perfect red roses slipped from his grasp and scattered across the plush Persian carpet.

  He watched, unable to tear his gaze away, his eyes seeing everything, his brain denying everything. On the king-sized four-poster bed, a Sheraton Sweet Sleeper, two sweat-soaked naked bodies writhed in ecstasy, intertwining, touching, breath heaving with exertion. As he stood transfixed a female face swam into focus. It was Sarah Taylor, her long blonde hair in wild disarray, her face flushed with passion as her head pressed into the shoulder of her bed mate. Her eyes flashed open and she gasped, pushing the man aside, “Jayden, You’re back!” her voice a heavy mix of shock, fear and anger.

  Jayden glanced at the man who was disentangling himself from the silky embrace of Sarah’s long tanned legs. Kyle Shore, a man he had treated like a brother, looked like the proverbial cat with the cream; a smug and knowing smile playing across his face.

  Hurt, betrayal, disgust – empty words for the emotions churning within him – twisting and burning, a white hot pain inside.

  Violence and agony surged through his trembling muscles as a million questions filled the air like a flock of frightened birds: Why are you doing this? When had it started? What had I done wrong? Why Kyle? Why? Why?

  His hand clenched the door handle, knuckles white, his face a mask of confusion and anger. “Happy Anniversary, Sarah,” he said, his voice lost in the boom of the door slamming shut.

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  CHAPTER 1

  QUEENSTOWN, NEW ZEALAND

  THE BLACKBERRY CLATTERED carelessly across the glass surface of the coffee table. Jayden McCartney swore under his breath, his long, lean fingers raking through his thick, blonde hair in frustration. What the hell he was supposed to do now, he thought, this was supposed to be his holiday, and a holiday is supposed to be stress-free – no work, no family, just peace and relaxation.

  No work, right! As a self-confessed workaholic it was unsurprising now that his five out of his eight companies had recently been floating on the international market, hitting the multibillion dollar level on the way. That kind of money needed looking after, nurturing, feeding. Still, he loved the job, even more so now that he didn’t need to be in the office twenty-four-seven and could instead simply flick an email from wherever he was, whether in a hotel room in some lush French wine valley, a Hong Kong restaurant, or even his own bed! Whenever, wherever he was, his people could handle everything he threw at them, although he would never let the reins become too loose.

  Sadly, the current focus of his stress was his family, more specifically his grandmother. His mother Gracie, married to his father Tom McCartney for thirty-five years, had insisted that he bring his girlfriend, whom he had been steady dating for the last two years, to attend his sister Kelly’s upcoming wedding – in order to meet the whole family for the first time. Tom’s mother Elizabeth, known to them as Granny Beth, had agreed to this with the reminder that it was high time his girlfriend was measured against her criteria of what made a suitable granddaughter-in-law. As he gazed out at the snow-covered mountains standing stately around the clear, cold azure waters of Lake Wakatipu, Jayden drew up a mental checklist of those criteria. What were they again?

  1. Well off: Beth’s meaning – her family must possess a substantial business and property portfolio.

  2. Good family background: Beth’s meaning – her family must be either of royal blood or of blue blood, you know, the old money type.

  3. Pretty: Beth’s meaning – could pace the catwalk with confidence.

  4. Excellent manners: Beth’s meaning – a socialite – polite with a hint of bitchiness.

  If at all possible, Granny Beth had added, it should be in that particular order.

  Jay stepped back from the open window and sat down on the soft white leather sofa. He took a deep, calming breath. The fresh, apple crisp air that seemed so unique to Queenstown filled the room with a delicious coolness, but the echo of that damned phone call was already destroying any peace of mind he might have expected from this trip. There seemed to be no solution. He couldn’t beg Sarah to go, pretending that nothing had happened, that he hadn’t caught her with his best friend. Even the unspoken presence of her name in his mind caused a crippling ache in his chest.

  Should he have seen it coming? Were the clues just lying all around them, waiting for him to pick them up, in the earlier stage of their loving relationship?

  Loving! A stupid word ringing hollow in his ears – he couldn’t shut out that scene, that night in Sydney three weeks ago. The pain was still sharp, piercing him in the lonely hours. Women said that men never got hurt this way, they were wrong. Oh sure, maybe some didn’t, but they were probably players, the next hot chick already in their line of sight, the last one forgotten all too easily. Jayden knew he wasn’t like that, could never be like that: he knew he had depth in his heart. The cheating was just the rack on which he would suffer his pain, the circumstances, his best friend, and her look of orgasmic pleasure, were simply the turning of the screws.

  He thought back. Sarah had complained about their trip the whole time – it was supposed to be their holiday, so why did he have to meet up with his friend? What she had meant by his friend was that it was a friend only Jay knew, not her, a friend unfamiliar with the socialites and millionaires of New York, a friend who, basically, didn’t belong in their world, or rather her world.

  ‘It was unexpected’, he had told her, ‘and besides which, Peter and I haven’t seen each other since our days at Harvard University. It’s been years’.

  He shut his eyes, his mind filled once again with the smoothness of her skin, the curves of her naked buttocks, the tiny moan escaping her lips as Kyle Shore moved over her. She had been beautiful even in that moment, but that beauty was tainted now. When he tried to picture her face it was as if a shadow lay across it. And it had seemed like such a cliché: his be
st friend and his girlfriend! Yet he would never have bet on such a possibility, especially as they had seemed so different, that there appeared to be so much hate between them. Perhaps that was it; he had only seen what they had wanted him to see. Perhaps even bursting in on them in Sydney had been part of a larger plan. Either way, Jay had known in that instant that the relationship was over.

  In the days that followed he had told her that no future existed for them. Oh, how she had begged him to forgive her, to take her back, that it was not what it looked like. ‘Not what it looked like!’ he had shouted at her then, his face contorted with rage and regret. ‘You were screwing him!’ and he had told her, ‘I don’t know what is worse, your betrayal or his’, before refusing to listen to anymore of her lies. He told here to get the hell out of his life and she had gone, telling him that she had never loved him by way of a parting shot.

  Further days of binge drinking had not brought the expected oblivion. Then, one night, nursing a beer in a nameless yet expensive bar, Peter Thompson, a good friend from New Zealand, or Godzone as they called it in those parts, had put a strong hand on his shoulder and told him, ‘She’s gone. Let it go, man. Plenty more fish in the sea’, and he had laughed when Peter suggested flying half way around the world to indulge in some ‘interesting’ and somewhat suicidal sports. He had agreed, unenthusiastically at the time, because he had felt the need to do something, anything, and suicide by itself was not an option. Besides which, even in the blackest moments, he felt that there was much more for him in this life. And so he had flown with Peter to Queenstown, the adventure capital of New Zealand if not the world, and had thrown himself off bridges, out of airplanes, into raging rivers. Once they had strapped on skis and jumped out of a helicopter over the high snowbound southern mountains. He hadn’t killed himself, wouldn’t have counted as suicide anyway, and the combination of exhilaration and exhaustion had driven away any thoughts of Sarah or Kyle, for a little while at least. He knew the healing process would take far longer, and that he had found a little peace here in this isolated place, and now here were Gracie and Beth asking him to bring his girlfriend to Kelly’s wedding. If he didn’t bring Sarah they would want to know what had happened, in excruciating detail naturally, and they would start matchmaking again, a thought that brought a shudder to his core.

  Jay rested his head back and let his mind wander. He could just see it all now. Gracie and Beth would bring in a hundred or so eligible bachelorettes for dinner, tea parties, and balls. He would be swamped with faceless, beautiful women. Some guys would think they were in heaven. They’d actually enjoy the attention, being surrounded with beautiful women like a contestant in reality T.V show such as ‘The Bachelor’. Despite his high profile company Jay knew he was different.

  He sprang from the sofa, pacing back and forward, agitated. Good grief! What he needed was a plan. ‘Think, Jay, think!’ he chanted to himself.

  He paused, somebody was whistling in the corridor. Had Peter returned from his morning jog? He rushed across the living room and saw the man he needed most in this time of crisis.

  He grabbed Peter by the collar and hauled him in.

  “Whoa! Jay, mate, what’s up?” Peter said, chuckling and smoothing down his unruly red hair.

  “I just got a call from Gracie and Beth,” Jay muttered.

  Peter raised an eyebrow. “Well, from the look you’re wearing, it doesn’t sound good.”

  “Of course it’s not good, Pete.”

  “Spill it then.”

  Jay glanced at his friend he had first met at Harvard University, the man he had only met again recently back in Sydney just before, well, that incident. “They’re at it again,” he said, annoyance clear in his tone.

  “What, matchmaking?” Pete chuckled again; this was hardly a new situation.

  “Jesus man, it’s not bloody funny! What the hell am I going to do?”

  “I suppose they are getting worried. You’re the heir, you’re thirty. Not getting any younger, bro,” Peter said, heading to the refrigerator in the kitchen and whistling again. He opened the door and rooted around among the various brands searching for a bottle of Heineken. “Want one?” he asked over his shoulder. “Yeah, sure,” Jay replied, distractedly.

  Peter took two out and tossed one to Jay.

  Six bottles of Heineken, two packs of Blue Bird chips, and four packets of Giant Cookies later, they were still contemplating the dilemma at hand.

  “Any suggestions?” Jay asked finally.

  Peter glanced sidewise at his friend, “I suggest you find yourself a new girl, bro, and take her to New York.”

  For an extended moment, in the complete silence that followed, Jay’s blue eyes stared intensely into Peter’s green ones, “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Nope,” Pete replied. He stuffed some crisps in his mouth, chewed loudly, and took a solid gulp of beer.

  Jay considered this for a second, “I’m not up for it, Pete. You know I’m not.”

  Peter raised his eyebrows in question, “Sarah?”

  “It’s still too new,” Jay muttered. No, he hadn’t gotten over Sarah, and yet, dating again right now just seemed wrong, odd, like they remained linked in some way, and basically he was just not ready.

  “Look,” Peter began, “you don’t have to do this dating thing yet. I said you just need to find a girl and take her to meet your parents. You don’t have to date her.”

  “Meaning what, exactly?” Jay looked at his friend in a weird way.

  “Meaning you hire a girl to be your girlfriend and take her to see your parents.”

  Jay said nothing, but his expression quite clearly said – Seriously, dude, can’t you come up with a better plan than that?

  No, wait. It was supposed to be a joke. Peter was simply joking with him that’s all. On cue Jay started laughing. He laughed so hard that his stomach hurt and breathing was difficult. When he managed to stop, he looked at his friend and said, “You are joking, right?”

  Peter’s face, however, was serious, “No, mate.”

  “What?”

  “Not at all, just hire a girl as your girlfriend. Simple.”

  Must be a Kiwi thing, Jayden thought, but he couldn’t stop himself from blurting out, “Who the hell is desperate enough to want to pretend to be my girlfriend?”

  “Lots,” Peter said, “Professionals. Hire one.”

  Jay narrowed his eyes. “Oh no, I’m not hiring those types of girls, no way man. Gracie and Beth have criteria.”

  Peter, who had just taken another big gulp of his beer, nearly choked. He touched his throat and said, “What? You mean your girlfriend has to fit your grandmother’s criteria?” Then it was his turn to start laughing.

  “Damn it, Pete! Help me out here,” Jay snapped, and punched Peter on the arm.

  Peter continued chuckling, as he rolled away from the punch, though the hard glare from Jay managed to dampen his amusement.

  “Okay,” he said calmly, “You really need a new girlfriend, a fake one. I think I just might know where you can find one.”

  “She better not be a professional. She has to be perfect,” Jay warned, and he managed to sum up the criteria for Peter.

  “Nope, she is not a professional at all,” Peter confirmed. And grinning like a Cheshire cat, he added, “In fact, she’s the total opposite.”

  ***

  AS PETER MANOEUVRED the SUV through the streets of Queenstown in the quiet hours of the morning, Jayden gazed out at the sleeping town and knew he’d come back. He hadn’t realised until then just how much he had actually enjoyed this place. He loved the view, the placid waters of the lake, the food, the people and even the crazy sports. This, he thought, was a perfect holiday spot. He’d definitely be back.

  The drive was exhilarating, and Jayden let his eyes feast on the rough beauty of the Central Otago area. Coarse, snow covered mountains, pristine blue lakes, and twisted, gusting rivers came together as one in picturesque harmony. Now and again distant winding roads
led to vineyards and orchards and the remote formless dots of farm houses. Sometimes the roads were so close to the edge of the cliffs that Jay felt they were toying with the end of the world.

  Three and half hours of driving later they arrived in the city of Dunedin on the east coast.

  “So this is it? This is George Street, the centre of the city?” Jay asked as they came through the short length of the Octagon toward the north end of the town.

  “Yep,” Pete responded, coming to a stop at the traffic lights on Hanover Street. “It’s a small town, bro. The Edinburgh of the South they call it. We’ll have to park in the Meridian car park building; Damn busy on a Friday, bloody students everywhere.”

  “A city of students, huh?” Jayden commented, eyeing the crowd crossing the streets in front of them.

  “Yeah,” Pete responded, taking out his BlackBerry.

  Jay glanced at his friend, his eyebrows rising. “Not supposed to be texting while driving.”

  Pete chuckled and his thumb moved faster, like he was on texting marathon.

  Jay shook his head and turned his attention back to the streets. There was a thick crowd looking mostly like students, as Peter had said, and yet they were very well dressed. Young men in fashionable jeans and coats – a few in shorts, t-shirt and flip-flops (in this cold winter month?), while the young women wore flimsy coats, super skinny jeans or leggings and miniskirts and three inch heels. They strode and mingled as they laughed and chatted with their shopping bags in hand. The flawless faces of the girls were similar to that of the supermodels back in New York, by design no doubt. Not bad, he thought, for a small city from a near forgotten country. Certainly few in New York would be familiar with this place.