Page 5 of Nailed

“Okay,” she sighs, “Over here are dresses, skirts, business jackets, cardigans, and denim jackets. Over there are vests, sweaters, and hoodies. From there, we work our way into blouses, tee-shirts, and tanks.”

“Why don’t you just fold your tees and sweaters like a human and put them in a drawer? It would save so much space in here?”

“Can it, lady-who-is-woefully-unprepared-for-a-hot-date-with-her-boss.”

Right. Gift horse’s mouth? Not looking in it.

“I don’t know for sure if it’s a date.”

“Sure, sure, but you wish it were. So, we’re dressing you for a date. They say to always dress for the job you want, which means dress like you’re already his fiancée!”

My stomach tumbles with delight at the thought.

But I’m sure it won’t ever get that far. We’re too different. Buck is at least fifteen years older than me and very successful. As a military man who takes no time to ponder major decisions, he’s dissimilar from the lawyers who raised me. A pro-con list maker, Buck is not. The man is impulsive rather than strategic and not the least bit conniving.

Ha. No, the conniving one in this scenario would be me, I think to myself as a knot of guilt forms in my stomach.

While I’m in my thoughts, Presley hands me one of several little black dresses to try on. I hold it up in front of the mirror against my body and it looks like I’m playing dress up.

Just like I’m pretending to be a stager.

I scrunch my nose up. “I don’t think it’s an LBD sort of meeting.”

“You’re right. You look better in jewel tones. Try this.” Presley hands me a blue maxi dress with flowers on it, and that’s an immediate no.

“It’ll look really pretty with the white cardigan,” she says. But again, it’s not me.

“I feel like I’m trying too hard now. I’m going back to my place to throw on some jeans and a sweater.”

Presley sighs, then examines my face for a moment. She’s giving in to my stubbornness. “I can’t fault you for wanting to be comfortable. The top priority is feeling relaxed and like yourself on this date. Just know that I’m here to help. And if that man doesn’t worship your hot ass in those jeans of yours, then he’s not worth it.”

She practically shoves me out the door after giving me a quick hug and a “good luck.”

I trudge back to my place and put on my favorite blue jeans, paired with a pretty burgundy cardigan and matching striped tee shirt. I dress it up with jewelry, ankle boots, and a designer handbag that costs more than my rent. That handbag was a gift from Presley simply because I complimented her on it. Weirdly, she’d moved with a vast assortment of fancy clothes from New York to a small town with none of her connections. Surely, she could sell some of her clothes and shoes and afford a cooler place in a bigger city. Ah, well. None of my business. I dab on lip gloss, drag a comb through my hair, and I’m done.

I have the overwhelming urge to be as authentic as possible with Buck. Real, up to the point of telling him I’m not a professional stager. The truth is, I’ve seen him around town, and I just wanted to meet him. The dating pool is shallow around here, and he’s the best-looking guy I’ve seen…maybe ever.

Delusion is a hell of a drug, I tell myself. There is no way Buck Wood will be interested in me once he figures out I’m a fraud and a virgin with no real job prospects.

So, why did I apply for the job? Now that shit’s getting real, my motives seem highly ridiculous.

Yesterday, I’d driven past the job site twice because I was totally stalking him. The first time, the mayor of Fate had evidently gotten loose from Rex and Juniper’s house, because Buck was down on one knee giving Flash scratches behind the ear.

The second time I drove by, I noticed Buck’s foreman, Nick, taking his lunch break with Ruby from the diner and their four year old daughter, Claribel. When Buck approached to talk to Nick, I assumed it was to warn him that a construction site is not the place for little ones. Instead, Buck presented Claribel with a kid-sized hard hat, which she immediately popped on her head and squealed. And yes, my ovaries exploded.

If my libido is a terrible reason to want to work for a construction boss, then so be it.

My visit with Buck in his office only cemented his appeal. The only problem is, I wasn’t expecting to get a job. At best, I thought I was only shooting my shot. I didn’t expect this much immediate and enthusiastic attention. The man is much more than I bargained for, and now I’m in a tangled mess of my own making.

Buck picks me up at 7 p.m. sharp; his promptness earns his plus column one mark.

When he exits the truck and strides toward me, I suck in a breath. He is gorgeous. And so out of my league. He was attractive when I saw him earlier today, but he’s showered and shaved and wears a crisp button-up shirt with the cuffed sleeves rolled up, a belt, and pressed trousers. Oh gosh. I am way underdressed for tonight.

Buck also has a look of concern on his face. “Why didn’t you wait for me inside?” Buck asks.

Confused, I answer, “Oh. Uh…it’s a nice night.”

He shakes his head. “You shouldn’t be alone at night on the street. It’s not safe.”

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