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Taken by Tuesday

Taken by Tuesday (The Weekday Brides #5)(7)
Author: Catherine Bybee

Judy ran a hand through her hair and tugged it behind her neck. “Does Rick watch?”

“Sometimes.” Karen’s grin grew a little bigger.

“What?”

Karen laughed. “Nothing.”

Judy glanced at Meg and noticed her larger-than-life smile as well. “What?”

Where Karen might hold herself back from saying what she thought, Meg did not. “We’re here less than two hours and you’re asking about Rick.”

“I asked if he monitors the house, watches the cameras.” The question was legit inside her head. “It’s not a personal question.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” Meg shook her head.

“Was that a personal question, Karen?”

Karen bit her lip and shook her head. “Nope. You did not ask a personal question about Rick. A little word of advice, however . . . conversations outside have microphones that record them. Just so you know . . . in case you want to ask questions about Rick.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“That’s just crazy.”

Karen grabbed a cold bottle of water from the refrigerator and leaned against the counter. “So, what’s first on your list, girls?”

Meg sat on one of the stools surrounding the kitchen island. “I’m starting my job search tomorrow.”

“And I’m going to drive by the offices in Westwood so I know where the heck I’m going next week.” Judy had a little more of a slush fund than Meg and wouldn’t have to find a job the very week she started her internship.

“How many hours a week are you putting in with the internship?” Karen asked.

“I was told thirty to forty.”

“That doesn’t leave a lot of time to work for pay.”

Judy cringed. “I know. Not in the business sector in any event. I waited tables in Seattle, I can look for something like that.”

Meg groaned. “If I never wait on anyone ever again it will be too soon. I need to land something clean where I won’t get my ass pinched.”

Karen and Judy both laughed.

“You have a business degree, right?” Karen asked.

“Yeah.”

“Hmm . . . well, Samantha’s looking for help at Alliance.”

“What’s Alliance?” Judy asked.

“It’s an elite matchmaking firm.”

“A dating business?” Meg asked with a frown.

“No, much more than that. Very exclusive and only for the überrich. We match couples based on their long-term plans. Some executives need a temporary wife to land a position at their job, or a girlfriend to get their ex off their backs.”

“Where do you find the women who agree to this?” Judy asked.

“Everywhere. Industry parties, fundraisers, there are plenty of women looking for a short-term contractual agreement with a payout when the ‘relationship’ dissolves.”

Awareness slapped Judy upside the head. “Oh my God! That’s how you met Mike!”

Karen wiggled her eyebrows and shot a glance at Meg.

“Oh, please . . . Meg is my best friend. She knows you and Mike were married in name only. It makes sense now.”

“Michael needed a wife and I wanted to open up a safe house for runaway or abandoned kids. It was a win-win for both of us. More so for me since I met Zach.” And Mike’s career had just kept on skyrocketing after the divorce. Seemed her brother always had another starlet on his arm in the tabloids, but none worthy of introducing to his family. Maybe he just wasn’t ready to settle down. Who could blame him? He had the world at his fingertips and few homelife responsibilities.

Judy understood that. She wanted to find herself before she invited anything steady into her world. The thought of a temporary and fake relationship in order to put some money in her accounts didn’t sound half bad.

Meg must have been thinking the same thing when she asked, “How do you screen people for this service? My guess is there are a lot of wackos out there that might try and sue, or have issues that could really mess with a spouse, temporary or otherwise.”

“Samantha places everyone in our directory through a very thorough background check. I don’t care how hidden someone thinks their skeletons are, Samantha finds them. And in order to work for her, you have to be willing to go through her check. It’s imperative that nothing in our files is leaked.”

“Sounds very cloak and dagger,” Meg said.

“Nothing so dramatic, but the people we deal with have serious money and expect complete secrecy. The pay isn’t bad and with The Village taking more of my time and Gwen busy with the baby, we could use the help.”

“Where is the office located?” Seemed Meg was seriously considering Karen’s suggestion.

“Samantha started the business in a two-story house in Tarzana and the office is still there.”

“How do you keep a house in a residential neighborhood secure?”

Karen laughed. “Oh, hon . . . first of all, Rick lives there now, and let’s face it, he’s a huge roadblock to anyone who might want to break in. And second, the security at that house makes this one look like a child’s lock on a paper diary. Gwen and I lived there before I married Michael, and before I moved in, Eliza was there with Samantha. Seems like anyone who lives in the house is destined to get married within a year.”

Meg cringed. “Remind me never to move in.”

“Not interested in happily ever after?”

Meg shook her head. “Wouldn’t mind happy for now with a paycheck, but forever . . . yeah, no . . . not for me.”

Karen glanced at the watch on her wrist. “Well, I gotta go. Let me know if you’re interested, Meg . . . and Judy, Samantha even pays finder’s fees for male and female clients. You’ll probably find yourself in some really flashy parties hanging out with your brother. Something to think about.”

Chapter Three

It took five days for Rick to find an excuse to drop by the Beverly Hills residence. Never mind the paying client was in Germany filming his latest blockbuster, or that the use of the key-in code was probably nothing more than laziness on the end of the houseguests. Instead of fishing out the key fob from the bottom of a purse, they punched in numbers. Bottom line, the key fobs told him exactly who was coming and going from the home, and the key-in codes were meant for the groundskeepers and maid. Not Judy and Meg.

Rick watched the monitors on the Beverly Hills home more than he needed to, and listened in more than he should. Bottom line, he wanted to see how Judy was settling in. The paparazzi had yet to clue in to the fact that two very attractive and desirable women now occupied Michael’s home. Rick thought for sure pictures would fill the tabloids the moment the girls moved in. They hadn’t. The girls had been painfully silent outside, and Rick was no more privy to their lives than the neighbors were.

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