Some Like It Charming (A Temporary Engagement) Read online

  About Some Like It Charming

  Mackenzie Wyatt believes in two things: herself and her plan. And her plan is to keep her head down and to work hard until she can retire. Never mind that she doesn't know what she'll do once she retires– at least she won't be working for the man anymore. Because even though he's a gorgeous man, he's still her boss and he likes to push her buttons.

  Ethan Howell O'Connor's charmed life comes to a screeching halt after his latest ex-girlfriend starts a fashionable trend in talking to the tabloids. Now all of Ethan's old girlfriends are talking to the press, ruining his reputation, and wiping that charming smile right off his face. The only person that can brighten his black mood is the same person who can annoy him to kingdom come. He and Mackenzie have feuded since the day she was hired, but now Ethan's starting to realize: maybe those sparks were hiding a blazing fire.

  Mackenzie's about to find out that sometimes a gorgeous man can come up with a plan all his own, and it's a given that it'll mess hers up.

  Table of Contents

  About

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Copyright

  One

  Mackenzie Wyatt looked up from her desk as two women went running by as fast as their fashionable heels could take them and sighed.

  He was here.

  She could turn off her email alert and she could refuse to answer his calls, but she always knew when the lord of the castle had arrived. The surge to the ladies room, the frantic tidying of desks, the energy in the air. It all pointed to one thing–

  Ethan Howell O’Connor had entered the building.

  It was his after all. And she understood that he needed to make an appearance occasionally, she just wished she could know ahead of time so she could take the day off. He delighted in tormenting her, and truth be told, she delighted in tormenting him. But she was hardly ever truthful with herself about Ethan O’Connor.

  She’d given up shutting her door years ago. One unlucky visit she’d tried to hide in the ladies room, but he was nothing if not dogged, and he’d sent another woman in to get her. After the poor woman had stopped hyperventilating, Mackenzie had found him sitting behind her desk, eating a Snickers from her emergency stash, grinning that lazy grin, and laughing at her with those sharp green eyes.

  She’d stopped hiding right then, and she’d stopped being nice. Very few people realized she had been playing nice, Ethan included. But even she knew it wasn’t a good idea to insult the boss. She just couldn’t seem to help it when she was around him.

  But no man took her Snickers without paying the consequences.

  Their relationship, if it could be called that, had turned in to a verbal sparring match that was overheard and repeated at every water cooler, and most of the staff wondered why she hadn’t been fired yet. She could only tell them that Ethan found her amusing.

  She tried not to let him get to her, but two minutes of lapping at his toes was all she could last and then the dam would break and she would find herself insulting the man everyone agreed was the most charming and handsome they’d ever met.

  A hush stole over the floor and Mackenzie rolled her neck. She cracked her knuckles.

  She did not run a brush through her honey brown hair, like the co-worker who’d run to the bathroom at the first news of an Ethan sighting. She did not apply another quick coat of mascara around her tawny eyes, like the woman who was hunched behind her desk trying to see her reflection in her black coffee cup. No, Mackenzie kept her expression cool and sniffed her small upturned nose.

  And pretended that her heart wasn’t trying to beat its way out of her chest. Because no matter how handsome or charming or annoying or fake Ethan was, he was the only person who could make her break her cool. She would find that exciting if she didn’t detest him quite so much.

  Mackenzie forced her concentration back to her work but she knew where he was. She could tell by the murmur of voices, the laughter. No one seemed to be able to do any kind of work when he was near and she didn’t know how anyone in the New York office got anything done. She thanked God every time he visited that Los Angeles wasn’t his home base.

  The murmuring and laughter grew closer and louder. He’d picked up an audience and people found things to do near her office. The most charming man in the world vs. the woman who said what she thought and never pandered to authority.

  Round one. Ding.

  “Hello, Mackenzie. Hard at work, I see.”

  She looked up at tall, lean man and kicked herself. She never remembered how good he looked. When he was away she easily forgot how his long eyelashes framed green eyes with a hint of playful devil in them. And how his blond hair framed a face so pretty it just couldn’t be real.

  “Hello, Mr. O’Connor. Causing a fuss again?”

  He smiled and shut her door behind him. She gave him a look that quite clearly said what she thought about that and he laughed.

  She stood and walked around him to open the door, wishing she’d worn higher heels. With Ethan she needed all the help she could get.

  “You’re not playing by the rules, Ethan. They’ll bug my office if they can’t hear the show.”

  She heard him opening and shutting the drawers of her desk and she sternly hid her smile before she turned around.

  She said, “How many desks do you search on your walkthroughs? I’m pretty sure that’s unprofessional.”

  He held up the candy he’d found and said, “Talk about unprofessional, what is this?”

  “A box of Hot Tamales.”

  “And where is the chocolate, Ms. Wyatt?”

  She pursed her lips. “I may be able to find some, but you’ll have to sit in this chair–” she tapped the supremely uncomfortable chair in front of her desk, “–to get it.”

  He grinned, plopping into her cozy, ergonomic chair and propping his feet up.

  “Nice try.”

  “At least you didn’t find my Snickers.”

  He ripped open the box. “I like these.”

  “I’m sure you throw up anything you eat in my office, just in case.”

  He choked. “Maybe I should have been, but I haven’t.”

  Mackenzie shrugged. “You’re not dead yet.”

  Ethan eyed the box of candy, shaking it and looking for anything suspicious, and then ate a handful.

  “I like to live dangerously.”

  She sat down, slouching in the uncomfortable chair. “To what do I owe this visit? I’ll make a note to stop whatever it is.”

  “I had to come congratulate the office, and the person, who made such a great sale.” He nodded at her like a king approving his royal decree.

  Mackenzie couldn’t help the cat-that-ate-the-canary grin. She’d made him a lot of money over the years, but this sale had been a doozy. Her commission had been a doozy.

  And truthfully, that was why she was allowed to taunt and insult the boss. He may find her amusing, but no one made more money for him than she did. And they both knew it.

  He plopped some more candy in his mouth. “I’ve decided to celebrate that little piece of magic with a company picnic this Friday. I knew you needed a personal invitation or you wouldn’t show.”

  “Picnics aren’t really my kind of thing.”

  “There will be a very competitive game of softball and I’ve heard you can play.”

  “Unfortunately, I’ve already arranged for Friday off.” Or she would as soon as he left. “You’ll have to find someone else to win that game
for you.”

  His feet slid off her desk and he leaned forward onto his elbows. He smiled fully, his white teeth flashing. They were probably caps.

  “Oh, Mackenzie. I know you’ll only play for me when money’s involved. I signed you up for the other team.”

  Her breath hitched a nanosecond too long and his smile widened.

  Mackenzie got her breathing back under control with a grimace. It had only been a slight slip but he’d seen it. Had been watching for it. And that was exactly why Ethan was so dangerous. He found your weakness, then dangled irresistible bait. And boy, did she want to beat him. She wanted to wipe that smile off his face and make him sweat.

  She forced herself to say, “Although I’d love to watch you lose, I still have plans.”

  He shook his head. “I hate to do this to you but you leave me no choice. I’m making this a requirement of your continued employment.”

  “Are you saying you’ll fire me if I don’t attend this celebratory picnic and play a game of softball?”

  Ethan nodded his head sadly. “I am sorry but it means that much to me.”

  Mackenzie shook her head, a pity-filled smile playing at the corner of her lips. “If you’ll hand me the small notebook in my top right drawer. Yes, thank you.”

  She flipped to the middle and made a notation. “Ethan, you’re losing your touch. It’s only been one week since you last threatened to fire me.”

  “One week? Are you sure?”

  “You called and left a voicemail congratulating me on my sale and said if I didn’t return your call you’d have to let me go.”

  “Oh, yes. I do remember that. You didn’t return my call.”

  “You didn’t fire me.”

  He smiled at her. “Then I guess we’re at an impasse. You’ll have to come play softball to see who really has the upper hand between us.”

  “I’ll see if I can rearrange my schedule.”

  He swiveled in her chair for a few seconds, then stood. “Excellent. Keep up the good work, Mackenzie.”

  He waltzed out her door and she took a deep breath. She was going to annihilate him at softball. No matter if he had her right where he wanted her, it would be worth it.

  She reclaimed her chair and ignored how warm it was and how she could smell his faint aftershave.

  Ethan popped his head around the corner and said, “Next time have a Snickers.” And then he winked.

  Mackenzie stood, shutting the door firmly behind him. Next time she’d have a mouse trap.

  Ethan Howell O’Connor eased into the back of his car and directed the driver to his hotel. He needed a massage, a hot tub, and a beer, and then maybe this growing tension would ease.

  He doubted it, but was always hopeful.

  It was just he never knew how to handle ugly breakups. And his were always ugly. One day she was happy, the next day she was crying. He always seemed to miss the middle. The part where she realized he wasn’t what she thought he was. The part where she decided that even if he wasn’t quite as perfect as she’d thought, marriage would fix it. How would that fix anything?

  It wouldn’t. But she didn’t really want to marry Ethan. She wanted to marry Ethan Howell O’Connor.

  Ethan rolled his head, trying to loosen the knot in his neck.

  Alyse had cried. Cried so hard he’d thought her heart must be breaking, and he hated that. Hated tears, hated her disappointment. He kept thinking she didn’t really love him, she didn’t really know him. She’d only loved the idea of him.

  He could tell himself that all day long, but he still hated himself.

  He was a piranha, preying on young women. He built up their dreams and then dashed them to pieces without ever realizing he was doing it.

  Ethan leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Tomorrow he’d find a way to fix the mess with Alyse. He just hoped he could do it without marrying her.

  He was awoken early the next morning by alternating knocks and bangs on his hotel door. The massage had eased the stress in his neck and back, but the empty beer bottles had left his head fuzzy. He stumbled to the door, cursing whoever it was. And blinked a few times when he looked through the peephole.

  “Mother? Grandma?”

  He opened the door cautiously. His mother took one look at him and moved forward to hug him.

  “Oh, Ethan. Why didn’t you tell us? I thought you and Alyse were getting along fine.”

  He groaned.

  His grandmother handed him a tabloid and said, “This is a fine pickle you’ve landed in this time. I warned you about that girl; always had to have her own way.”

  His mother patted him on the back, frowning at the beer bottles. “It does seem you were right, Ellen. I’m sorry I was so friendly towards her.”

  His grandmother snorted. “You’re nice to all the women your son brings home. You need to stop thinking about grandbabies and start thinking about the divorce rate in this country. He needs a woman who can handle him. He needs to stop dating these socialites and models. Worthless.”

  This was an argument he’d heard many times over and he ignored it to read the paper.

  Prince Charming Really A Frog?

  Ethan Howell O’Connor, the man voted most charming eligible bachelor four years in a row, is reportedly not all that charming behind closed doors. His girlfriend of nine months, model Alyse Ryan, told this reporter that he “is a workaholic and has commitment issues. We’ve been dating nine months now and let me tell you he isn’t so pretty in the morning. It was time to take our relationship to the next level and he broke up with me instead. You can ask any of his old girlfriends and they’ll tell you the same thing– as soon as a girl starts thinking he might be the one, he starts sabotaging the relationship. Late nights working, flimsy excuses about not moving in together, sit down talks where he tells you he’s nowhere near ready to get married. Well, when is he going to be ready? I guess my mama was right, why buy the cow when you’re getting the milk for free?” Or why commit to one model when there’s another right around the corner?

  It wasn’t the first time he’d been in the gossip column, and it wasn’t the worst article they’d ever written about him. It was the first time someone close to him had been quoted. The first time any of his ex-girlfriends had felt the need to go public.

  But he had to admit, Alyce didn’t sound all that heart-broken anymore. Angry, but not heart-broken.

  He looked up at his anxious mother and disgruntled grandmother and smiled. “It could be worse.”

  The next day it was. Another quote from a former girlfriend, this time attacking his bedroom technique. It was a little harder to shrug that one off, but he consoled himself with the thought that she hadn’t complained while they were together.

  It didn’t help all that much.

  His grandmother simply shrugged. “I doubt that’ll stop all the women wanting to get in your bed from daydreaming about you. And at least it’s the models spilling their guts. Everyone’ll think they’re high anyway.”

  Ethan kept his smile on, and if he worked a little harder and a little later, no one thought anything of it. He was the boss, after all.

  Friday morning dawned bright and early. He had a call overseas to make before the picnic and he hoped against hope his ex-girlfriends were done with him. It had been a rough week and all he wanted to do was play a little softball. He grinned at the thought of Mackenzie Wyatt in short shorts running the bases.

  He joined his mother and grandmother downstairs for breakfast in the best mood since Monday.

  “Ladies. Have you reconsidered going to the picnic? I don’t think I’ll need bodyguards.”

  His mother picked at her egg whites. “I think it sounds fun. I always like to watch you play the catcher.”

  He laughed. “You hate watching me catch. Although I don’t think this is going to be that dangerous of a game.”

  He decided not to tell her that at least one person would be gunning for him. His poor mother had never wanted her only child to p
lay any sports and had finally agreed to baseball, and specifically catcher, because of all the protective gear he would have to wear. She hadn’t realized until too late there was a reason catchers needed protection.

  His grandmother, who never picked at her food and would never order egg whites, said, “You’ll need someone to distract the paparazzi if they find you. Plus, I need some sun.”

  He ordered his own breakfast, keeping it light and lean. He’d be running bases this morning and didn’t want to feel or look sluggish in front of his employees. At least one employee would take advantage of any weakness she saw, and he had no doubt, would constantly remind him of it.

  He said, “I’m sure the paparazzi won’t want to hang around taking pictures of a company picnic. I can’t be the juiciest thing going on right now.”

  His mother threw a glance at his grandmother, who ignored it and kept her fork moving.

  He looked between them for a few seconds, then went for the weaker link. “Mother?”

  “Yes, dear?”

  “Was there anything worse today?”

  His grandmother said, “Not anything worse. You’re still their soup du jour, but I expect that won’t last more than another week. Just ignore it.”

  “It will be better if I know what it is.”

  His mother put down her fork, abandoning the pretense that she was actually going to eat. “I don’t think it will be better, dear. Ellen is right, just ignore it.”

  The only problem with that was his grandmother had never ignored anything in her life. She believed in facing problems head on.

  He sighed and changed the subject. His good mood was vanishing fast but he kept a grip on it with iron control. He was going to have fun today, dammit. And maybe they just didn’t want him seeing what kinds of things his ex-girlfriends were saying about him. An ex was never the most reliable judge of a man’s character.

  Not A Frog, A Toad!

  Sarah Milton, one of New York’s leading socialites, was recently heard telling a friend that when she was dating Ethan Howell O’Connor he hit her so hard he broke her nose. Six years ago, Sarah Milton’s nose job had been attributed to allergies, but now we know she was allergic to a fist! Does Prince Charming have a nasty temper hiding behind that pretty face?