The Sweetheart Hoax Read online

  The Sweetheart Hoax

  By Christy Hayes

  Amazon Edition

  Text Copyright © Christy Hayes

  All Rights Reserved

  The characters portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Nor part of this book may be reproduced by any means without prior written consent of the author.

  Amazon Edition, License Notes

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for you, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Margot Manning had to quit the job she loved in order to achieve the career she wanted. As she settled into her chair at the reception desk at Flannery & Williams, she wondered what could have made the last few years worse. She could have been waiting tables at a diner as her mother had done before her heart made such physical work too taxing. She could have hawked gifts at one of the coastal area’s gift stores, unable to study without her bosses or customers taking note. She could have accepted one of the nannying positions she’d interviewed for before realizing she’d never be able to read and memorize chapters of organic chemistry with toddlers underfoot all day. As she neared the end of her part-time nursing program, she knew she’d made the right choice for her day job. If only she hadn’t fallen stupidly, ignorantly in love with her boss…well, one of them.

  Phil Williams was cocky, handsome, and obscenely talented. Flannery & Williams was the hottest environmental architectural and building firm in the Lowcountry, and Phil and his insatiable drive to succeed had put them on the map. She didn’t need a distraction like him in her life; she sure as hell wasn’t looking for one when she’d accepted the job three years ago. The receptionist’s position had been the perfect chance for her to work in a job that required minimum skill and left plenty of time for her to study. The fact that her two bosses were the best looking men in South Carolina was just a perk. A perk that quickly turned into a liability when awe and infatuation morphed slowly, achingly, into unrequited love.

  “Morning, Margot,” Phil said as he breezed past her on the way to his office. He plopped a bag on her desk from his favorite bakery. His thick, dark hair and caramel colored eyes perfectly complemented the beige suite and blue shirt he’d chosen that morning. As usual, he hadn’t even made eye contact.

  Margot jumped up from her chair. “Phil, I need to speak with you for a minute.”

  “Can’t,” he said without a backwards glance. “I’ve got an appointment in thirty minutes.”

  Margot moved the bag and cleared away her National Council Licensure Examination study guide in order to skim the calendar. She trailed behind him and stopped at the threshold of his door. “I didn’t know you had an appointment.”

  He slid out of his suit coat and draped it over the wooden hanger in the corner. “Made it last night at the driving range. I’ll need a promotional package and complete set up in the conference room.”

  Margot blew one of her flyaway curls out of her eyes. Unfortunately, it sounded like a sigh.

  “Too tall an order?” he asked with a sideways grin, looking at her for the first time as he sat in his chair.

  Everything about Phil Williams was a very tall order. At six-foot-four, he stood exactly a foot higher than Margot. “No, of course not.”

  “Good.”

  When she didn’t leave or even stand up straight where she’d slumped against the door, he spared her another glance.

  “I do need to talk to you,” she said as he raised his brows. “Later.”

  “Fine, but I’ve got a lunch date, so it’ll have to be this afternoon.”

  “That’s…” typical, she wanted to say, “perfect.” She stood up straight. “Thanks for breakfast.”

  She skulked down the hallway toward the conference room, grabbed the pitcher from the cabinet, and retrieved a lemon from the small refrigerator under the sink. She sliced the lemon and muttered all the reasons she shouldn’t care that he had another lunch date. Of course he had a lunch date. God knew he wouldn’t have had that charming glow in his eye just for the anticipation of seeing her first thing in the morning. She added ice and water from the tap, set out the nice glasses on the bamboo tray, and went back to the wet bar for the bowl of chocolate candies.

  At least when she quit, she wouldn’t have to know the details of his love life. She wouldn’t have to go home at night picturing him dining with unworthy women at Andover’s best restaurants under reservations she’d made. Soon, she told herself, very soon, she wouldn’t care who Phil Williams bought breakfast for or what he did for lunch or dinner and with whom. She’d be too busy to care and way too happy. Nursing was all she’d ever wanted to do, and through sheer determination and hard work, her goal was finally within sight.

  Now all she had to do was quit her job.

  ***

  When the phone rang for the third time and Phil heard Margot puttering around the conference room, he answered it himself, a little distracted by his upcoming meeting and the fact that he’d seen his lunch date’s picture on a billboard on his ride into the office that morning.

  “Flannery & Williams. Phil speaking.”

  The sound of his mother’s voice on the other end did little to settle his mood. “You’re answering your own phone? I thought you had a secretary for that.”

  “Mom. How nice to hear from you.” He glanced at his watch. He didn’t have time to play twenty questions with an important meeting in fifteen minutes.

  “If that were true, you’d call me more often. Since you don’t, I’m forced to bother you at work.” He heard the telltale sign she had breakfast on the stove as the sound of bacon popping filled his ear. “So how are you?”

  “Busy,” he said. “I’ve got a meeting in a few minutes I need to prepare for.”

  “Busy, busy, busy. I never heard back from you about your daddy’s retirement party. We’re three weeks out, so I’m calling to remind you to book a flight before the prices go sky high. Delta’s running a special out of Charleston.”

  Damn. He hadn’t forgotten about the party. Not really. He just didn’t want to go. “I’ve got it on my calendar to book this week.”

  “Good,” she said. “Will anyone be joining you for the party?”

  “Anyone like whom? You mean a date?”

  “Phillip, you’re thirty-one years old, not married, and not in a relationship. I should have grandchildren by now.”

  “You have grandchildren. I’m sure Devon would be thrilled to hear you’ve forgotten his kids.”

  “I mean grandchildren from you. Aren’t you the least bit embarrassed that your younger brother is m
arried with two kids? People are starting to talk.”

  “Talk about what? People in Cash are always talking.”

  “I didn’t want to tell you this over the phone, but your brother said there are rumors you might be gay.”

  “What?” Phil sputtered and ran his hand through his hair, and then mentally cursed when he realized he’d mussed it up. “Are you serious?”

  “You ran off to a resort island, you never come home, and whenever you do, you’re alone.” He heard the sound of her spatula against cast iron. “It didn’t help when you wore a purple shirt last Thanksgiving.”

  “It was plum! And everyone was wearing purple last season.”

  “I rest my case,” she mumbled under her breath. “Honey, I think I’d know if you were that way, but you can’t blame people for wondering.”

  He shouldn’t care what people in Cash, Illinois thought of him. He certainly hadn’t given anyone from his hometown a second thought in years. But gay? The thought made him shudder. “I’m not gay, Mom. For God’s sake, ask Julianne how gay I am.”

  “Phillip Williams, I most certainly will not ask Julianne Waterston anything of the sort.”

  “She wasn’t Julianne Waterston when she let me—” Good Lord, was he seriously about to tell his mother he’d had sex with the preacher’s daughter in high school? “It doesn’t matter because I won’t be alone on this trip.”

  “Really?” she all but purred. “Is it serious?”

  Seriously stupid, yes. Who the hell could he bring home to get his mother and all the wagging tongues in Cash off his back? “It’s working toward serious. I wasn’t going to ask her to come, but since you and everyone else need some proof of my manhood, I’m sure she won’t mind tagging along.”

  “Well, hot diggity dog. Wait ‘til I tell your brother.”

  Great. For all he knew, she’d put an ad in the Cash Courier. “I’ve got to go, Mom. My meeting’s about to start.”

  “Wait,” she pleaded. “What’s her name? What does she look like? Where’s she from?”

  “I’ll call you with the flight details. Tell Dad I’ll be there.”

  “You’re going to leave me guessing?”

  He was going to leave her exactly where he found himself: with absolutely no idea who he was bringing home to meet his mother.

  Chapter 2

  “What are you doing?” Bo Williams asked his wife.

  Judy whipped her head up and unclasped her hands. “What do you mean?”

  Bo sniffed the air and gaped at the bacon lying on a pile of paper towels. “You made bacon?”

  “Yeah,” Judy said. “So what?” She hopped up and reached for a plate from the cabinet. She placed three slices on his plate and slid a perfect omelet from the skillet. When she turned around, Bo stood staring at her from just inside the kitchen door. “Are you going to sit down and eat or just stare at me all morning long?”

  “What did you do?” he asked.

  “What are you talking about?” She set his plate on the table and began filling his mug with coffee as if serving him a fat-laden breakfast were perfectly normal.

  Bo walked over and looked at his favorite meal as if it were sprinkled with poison. “You were praying when I walked in and you made me an omelet and bacon for breakfast.”

  “So?”

  “Come on, Judy. I’ve had nothing but oatmeal and cold cereal for three months. What gives?”

  Judy sighed and brought his coffee to the table. “Oh, sit down. I’m not going to snatch it away.”

  “Are you going to tell me what you’ve done?” He looked at his plate with a wicked smile on his face. “Or what you want me to do?”

  “Why can’t I give thanks to the Lord and make your favorite breakfast without you getting all suspicious?”

  “Because I know you.” He took a generous bite and closed his eyes. “Oh, how I’ve missed bacon.”

  She let him enjoy the meal and felt a stab of unease about her motives. His health was more important than the cute smile that graced his handsome face. “Bo?” Judy asked in a sweet voice while rubbing his arm with her hand.

  “I knew it,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Just spit it out so I can enjoy my breakfast.”

  “Fine. I need a favor.”

  “Must be a big one if I get bacon.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin and looked her in the eye. “What is it?”

  “I need you to talk to Devon, explain something to him for me.”

  “Explain what? Quit talking in riddles and get to the point.”

  “I need you to tell him about a tiny little white lie I told his brother.”

  Bo set down his fork. “I already don’t like the sound of this, and I don’t have the foggiest idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I told Phil that Devon had heard some rumors about him, and I need you tell Devon so that if Phil says anything to him, he’ll know what he’s talking about.”

  Bo scowled at her. “What kind of rumors?”

  She took a sip of coffee and then fiddled with the clasp on earring. “I told Phil that Devon heard he might be gay.”

  Bo choked on a swallow of coffee. “You did what?”

  “Now listen,” she said. “I can explain.”

  “No wonder you were praying. Why would you do that?”

  “He’s thirty-one years old and he’s never brought a woman home.”

  “You think he’s gay?”

  “Of course I don’t think he’s gay, but it was the best I could come up with.”

  “What do you get out of telling Phil that Devon thinks he’s gay?”

  “I didn’t tell Phil that Devon thinks he’s gay; I told Phil that Devon’s heard rumors he’s gay.”

  “Oh, well, that makes all the difference.”

  “Look, Mr. Smarty Pants, it worked. He’s bringing a woman home.”

  “You lied to our son so he’d bring a woman home?”

  “Yes. He left me no choice.”

  “I don’t even know how to respond to that.” He looked down at his plate and poked the omelet with his fork. “Damn it, now you’ve ruined my appetite.”

  “So will you?”

  “Will I what?”

  “Talk to Devon?”

  Bo gnawed on a piece of bacon as if it were a piece of wood. “Why should I? You’re the one who lied.”

  “True, but you’re the one who goes by his shop every Wednesday on your way to the Burger Barn.”

  “I…” Bo averted his eyes. “How did you know about that?”

  “This is a small town, Bo. Good Lord, did you really think I didn’t know?”

  “I was hoping.” He sighed and glared at his wife with pity. “Why would you do this, Judy?”

  “The boy was a walking hormone in high school. He used to bring girls home from college.”

  “Mostly to make Julianne jealous,” Bo said.

  “I know that, but he hasn’t mentioned having a woman in his life or brought one home the entire time he’s been in South Carolina.” She wrapped her hands around the mug. “I’m worried about him, Bo. He needs someone in his life.”

  “So who’s he bringing and what the heck are we going to do with her?”

  “I don’t know who he’s bringing, but I have a few ideas about what to do.”

  “Uh oh.”

  “That’s part of the reason I was praying. We’re going to expand our definition of acceptable behavior in the house for the weekend and I’m going to need you and Devon to move a few things around.”

  “You need an awful lot from Devon. Seems like you should be the one to explain this plan to him.”

  “It’ll sound crazy coming from me.”

  “It won’t sound crazy coming from me?”

  “It’ll sound like an order, which it is. Come on, Bo. Eat your breakfast. We’ve got work to do.”

  ***

  Margot wolfed down a peanut butter and jelly sandwich at her desk and hoped she’d get at least another
fifteen minutes of study time in before Phil returned and she had to quit. She tried to push the afternoon ahead to the back of her mind and zone in on possible arterial blood gas results for a patient with a nasogastric tube attached to low suction. As she figured the levels in her head, the door opened and Danny strode inside the office with Phil in his wake.

  “I thought you liked her?” Danny asked Phil over his shoulder as he picked up the message slips she’d left for him on the counter.

  Danny had deposited a trail of mud on the new rug and Margot watched Phil’s eyes bug out as he knelt down to pick through the thin pile for chunks of dried dirt. “This rug was almost a thousand dollars,” Phil said through gritted teeth. “Can’t you use the boot scrape by the front door?”

  After a cursory glance, Danny shrugged and continued flipping through his messages. “I told you not to spend that much on a rug.”

  “And I told you that first impressions count, which is why we had to replace the rug we had before.” He stood up and looked down at Danny with disgust on his face.

  Somehow Phil’s scowl and the added four inches didn’t faze the builder of their operation. “Sue me,” Danny said and continued along the hallway past Margot’s desk and into his office. Phil tossed the dried mud into Margot’s trash and set a small to-go container on the counter. “I got you carrot cake from Avenue 12. I know it’s your favorite. Would you mind running the vacuum over that, please, before the stain sets?”

  Margot shoved her study guide into her oversized bag and wiped the crumbs off her lap. “No problem, Phil, and thanks for the cake.”

  She pulled the cordless vacuum from her desk drawer and, in three swipes, had what was left of the mess cleaned up. After replacing the vacuum in her drawer, she picked up the thread of the conversation her bosses had started before coming into the office. Danny was laughing.

  “A billboard?” Danny managed through strangled breaths. “Where?”

  “Along the main road between Echo and Andover. I’m sure everyone has seen it by the way people stared at her at lunch.”

  Margot fumed at her desk. Kelly Bristow? Was Phil really clueless enough to date trashy Kelly Bristow, the ‘Lowcountry’s Low Price Leader in Real Estate?’