**Edited by Adelina Clonts aka Seawriter*

“The Rented Husband”

2011 © All Rights Reserved

Chapter 4

Brody’s stood confidently with his legs and shoulders width apart; hands crossed over his chest, peering down at Olivia Murray. What kind of a proposition would Ms. Fancy pants have to offer him? he wondered idly. He figured he would have been the last person she would turn to if she needed something. They could barely stand each other long enough to sit through a simple lunch date much less anything else.

Olivia started tapping her foot anxiously while staring back up at Brody. Her brows were furrowed and she silently debated the sanity of what she was getting ready to do. It was now or never. If she was going to ‘bite the bullet’ so to speak, this was the time to do it. Blowing a sigh of relief, Olivia spoke.

“Mr. O’Connor,” she said directly pointing to the empty chair that was sitting beside him. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

Brody’s mouth twitched when he glanced at the chair and quickly back towards Olivia. Her blouse had come unbuttoned at the top, and from where he was standing, he was at the right angle to catch a glimpse of the baby blue lace that lined the edge of her bra. Who would have thought that she, of all people, was a lacy type of gal? He pegged her to be more of a cotton woman.

“I think I’ll stand,” he stated gruffly. “I kind of like this view from up here,” he said as quiet laughter danced around in his eyes. Olivia shrugged her shoulders disturbingly.
“Alright,” she said in a rather non-committal tone. “Whatever it is that floats your boat or toots your horn, more power to you.”

Brody smirked and not so subtly lowered his eyes upon her cleavage peering out of her open shirt. He rested his gaze for a moment before lifting his head and meeting her brown coffee colored eyes.

Olivia took notice of how studiously Brody was watching her.

“What?” she asked holding her hands out to the side and looking down at her blouse. “Do I have something on me?” That would be just fan-freaking-tastic if she had been walking around half the day with a stain decorating her professional attire, she mused. Brody started shaking his head back and forth slowly.

“Nope,” he said the one word making sure to pop that "P" at the end. A slow grin overcame his face as he fixated his eyes down the middle of her creamy white flesh that was exposed in front of him. For a moment he let himself envision what it would be like to kiss that voluptuous small space of skin that he felt would be so smooth feeling as rose petals.

Olivia glanced down again and cried out in a flustering manner, “Oh, god” as she noticed the top two buttons of her blouse undone. She never wanted a hole to open up in the ground and swallow her as much as she did right now. Even part of her bra was showing. For Pete’s sake, Brody O’Connor was probably thinking at this very minute that she was some type of free lancing, wan ton floozy, she guessed.

Huffing, Olivia quickly re-fastened her shirt while her cheeks burned ruby red with embarrassment. Staring awkwardly at her desk, she silently counted to five while she tried to muster up what was left of her dignity. Clearing her throat she looked up at Brody with an expressionless face.

Oh, she was mad. Olivia Murray was about to blow a gasket and Brody could almost visualize the steam floating out of her ears. He knew it was wrong, but he cherished watching her struggle through her testy times like this. She was vibrant and alive; like a little tigress on the prowl waiting for him to make a wrong move; ready to pounce all over him. His notorious grin widened. He wouldn’t mind having her pounce on him, as long as, they were decked out in nothing but their birthday suits.

Olivia snapped out of her heated trance. How dare he not say anything? She reached for the first thing that she could get her hands on and flipped it upward.

“Ow!” Brody yelped, as he began massaging his tender head. He glimpsed down noticing the stapler she tossed at his head. Pointing at the broken contraption, he annoyingly looked back at Olivia and asked, “Did you seriously hit me with a stapler?”

Now it was Olivia’s chance to smile one of those shit eating grins that Brody knew all too well. He knew that smile because he was the one that perfected it!

“Yup,” Olivia answered and this time it was she that made sure to enunciate the “P” at the end of the word. That actually felt pretty good, as she scrupulously observed a little red mark developing along side his head, giving her some semblance of satisfaction.

Brody was still rubbing his head in disbelief. “Well?” he growled with a disgruntled look. When she didn’t budge to say anything else, he yelped, “What the hell did you do that for?” Olivia contained her inner feelings of laughter, as she relished in watching him act like a little boy ready to throw a temper tantrum because someone just stole his favorite toy. "Because you were well…just being you."

Brody blinked. “I’m always me,” he honestly replied, quite perplexed.

“Alright,” Olivia said sounding exasperated. “You were being a man then.”

Brody wasn’t getting it. The woman wasn’t making a lick of sense to him. Just to clarify the notion, he glanced down at his groin and felt with his hand just to be sure. Yep, it was still there. He was officially still a man.

“Puh-lease stop,” Olivia groaned as she covered up her eyes with her hands. It was beginning to be too much watching Brody carry on the way that he was. “Will you just sit down so we can talk?” she asked, her face still buried in her hands.

Brody chuckled. “Fine,” he said cautiously. “I’ll sit, as long as, you promise to keep your hands where I can see them and no more flying inanimate objects.”

Olivia pursed her lips. She shook her head back and forth as if she was debating the idea.

She stopped abruptly, rolling her eyes over Brody's watchful face before proceeding.

“Okay,” she said holding her hands up so he could see them. “No more inanimate flying objects as long as you promise to behave yourself.”

Brody snorted. “I always behave myself, woman.” She raised a brow up at him, calling his bluff. “Well, I do,” he insisted, hastily taking a seat in the chair. Olivia shook her head in disbelief. Brody only behaved when it was convenient for Brody to behave.

Once he was settled comfortably, he leaned forward placing his elbows on her desk. “Alright, spit it out. What’s this proposition that you want to discuss?”

Olivia inhaled deeply, taking in a pretty good whiff of an unforgettable fragrance, she had come to know as Brody O’Connor. Clean soap, with a hint of spicy aftershave. The robust scent was overwhelmingly mesmerizing.

“Liv,” Brody called out to her again awaiting for her to tell him about this proposition of sorts.

“Yea, uh…right,” she began and suddenly clapped her hands together bringing her back to the heart of the matter. “How would you like, Mr. O’Connor, to go to Hawaii?” she spilled out quickly. Brody couldn’t help but to notice her cheeks flushed a pretty pink color that actually complimented her skin tone. Then the question she asked finally registered and he did a double take.

“Hawaii?” Brody repeated the word curiously. “Why would you ask me about Hawaii?”

“Well, I have an extra ticket and all traveling expenses would be paid, so would you like to go or not?” Olivia said tensely. She couldn’t understand what was so difficult about answering the question; it was a simple yes or no.

Brody narrowed his inquiring gaze on her. Something was definitely up. Olivia Murray, the one woman he grew to know over the last few years, would not come out and ask someone like him to accompany her on a trip to Hawaii without reason.

“What‘s the catch?” Brody asked inquisitively.

Olivia tried to play out the innocent routine. “Why does there have to be a catch?” she asked resounding offended by his question. “Can’t one co-worker invite another co-worker on an overseas trip? Think of sweltering sandy beaches, crystal blue waters, and pleasant sun rays,” she added, hoping to further entice him.

“No,” Brody said, dragging out the word. “Not when the co-workers are you and I,” he replied, deliberately pinning her with his stare. “You want to tell me what the real deal is, Counselor?” Brody wasn’t raised a fool. Olivia wanted something that evidently only he had. Otherwise, there was no way that she would have come to him.
Olivia sighed and glanced up at Brody. “I need a husband,” she blurted out quickly, so quickly that Brody was sure he had to have misheard her.

“A what?” He stood up in a shocking reply.

Olivia scooted her way around the front of the desk leaning against it so she was left facing Brody. “I said I need a husband,” she repeated with supreme confidence. “It’s my sister’s wedding and I need to be married or a least convince my family that I’m married so they will quit setting me up on dates with every single yahoo they find. The trip consist of all expenses paid. I’ll even kick in ten thousand dollars if you can play the part convincingly enough to get my parents, as well as, the rest of my family off of my back.”

Brody stared back at Olivia. She had to be jerking his chain. She could not seriously be considering him as husband material. He started to laugh, not some stifled laugh but one of those deep belly boisterous laughs. He pointed at her mockingly and shook his head. “That‘s rich,” he said between laughs. “You…you…” he taunted with roaring laughter. “Ms. Fancy Pants needs…needs a husband?” He was beside himself squirming over the mere absurdity of the idea.

Olivia glared back at him. Brody O’Connor scoffed at her as if she had just told him the world’s funniest joke. This was serious business to her. If he said no, she could wind up with another Joe Blow with some irritating idiosyncrasy she wouldn’t be able to tolerate. Brody had to agree with her idea, no ifs, ands or buts about it. So, she sat there quietly, waiting patiently for him to get it all out of his system.

After a few minutes his howling laughter simmered down, as Brody strained to compose himself. Repositioning his stance, he realized Olivia was dead serious. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach. “You’re not kidding are you?” he asked her guardedly.

Olivia casually shook her head back and forth. “I’m serious as a heart attack. I need a husband and I need one fast with no strings attached. You attend a few dinners, make a few other casual appearances, take me to the wedding and we pretend to be one happy couple, “bada bing, bada boom”. “My parents are off my back,” she said brightly. In her mind, she already had everything fiigured out. “You get a free trip to an exotic island where lots women go gallivanting in tiny bikinis and I,... I can attend my baby sister’s wedding in blessed peace.”

Brody was taken aback. This woman was clearly delusional. “Look Olivia,” he stated, already backing up towards the door. “I don’t think I’m the man that you want for this kind of thing. I’m not the husband type of guy,” he professed, still inching his way reaching for the door. “You need a good man, someone like…like Carl Egbert.”

“Carl Egbert?” Olivia cried. "The guy brings his lunch in the same recyclable bag every day and counts out his peanuts to make sure that he has exactly 22. Hell, the guy looks like Lewis Skolnick from that movie ‘Revenge of the Nerds!’” There was no way that she would go near him with a ten foot pole. He even smelled like boiled eggs, she remembered, scrunching up her nose.

Brody wanted to smile at that. She had a point about Egbert. With those Victoria Secret legs she could do a hell of a lot better than him. But the simple fact remained; Brody O'Connor wasn’t her guy. There was no way he was going to be the man she wanted him to be.

Olivia saw the indecision written all over his face. She knew that she had to talk and talk fast or he would be out of there. “It’s free, Brody, with a ten thousand dollar bonus! Please, you have to do this. I have no other choice,” Olivia begged. If he rejected her now, she didn’t know what the hell she was going to do.

Brody felt for the woman. He hated to see her look so forlorn but he couldn't help her out, not in this situation. “Liv, I don’t need your money and I am not the man for this job. You’re a beautiful woman,” he said, trying to appeal more to her common sense. “Surely you can find a more suitable bachelor to pretend to be married to you, even without that generous offer.”

Olivia grunted. “Not someone conventional who could take the deal at face value, no strings attached.” She looked up at him and reached out to touch his arm. The touch was a small thing but it was warm and almost felt as though she was branding him in some strange sort of way. It made him feel damn near uncomfortable. “Please,” she said in such a saddened voice, that Brody knew he had to get out of there fast before he said something stupid like agreeing to this crazy idea of hers.

Dropping his head Brody pulled away from her. “Look, I can’t and I’m sorry,” he replied and before she had the chance to say anything further he turned around hastily and walked out of the office. He refused to turn back because he knew that if he did, he might change his mind. That was a risk he wasn’t willing to take.

Olivia stood at the corner of her desk and wanted nothing more than to go home, crawl in her bed and have a good cry. She had just been rejected by Brody O’Connor of all people, the one man that never says no, the one man that with any other woman, he would have handily agreed. Any woman- except for her.