Weekend Wife Read Online Free

of him herself.
    With a confidence she was nowhere near feeling, she stood her ground until he approached, and was shocked by how truly nasty he looked up close.
    “Hello, there,” she chirped, in her best Little Mary Sunshine voice. “What can I do for you?”
    “Well, I was just noticin’ yer sign there, little gal,” he mumbled around the toothpick in his mouth.
    Her sign was the last thing he was noticing, if his roving eyes were any indication. Emily fidgeted uncomfortably. “Oh, that.” Darn it, anyway. She was sick and tired of having these ridiculous job interviews with potential employers who should probably be behind bars. “I was just using that to shade myself from the sun,” she explained somewhat lamely.
    “Says you’ll work for food.” The dirtbag spat on the ground and pointed at her sign with his frayed toothpick.
    She’d play dumb. “It does? Imagine that.”
    The dirtbag rolled his eyes. “Come on, honey. You need work. I gotta job. It’s that simple. Just come with me and I’ll fix ya up real good.”
    “Oh, no. I’m fine. Really. Thank you, though,” she hedged, and started to back slowly away.
    Not easily dissuaded, the dirtbag followed her. “Oh, come on now, sweetheart,” he cajoled, his tone dripping with honey. “You could make some serious money workin’ for me. Why a little gal with your looks and figure could go far.”
    Now Emily knew he was deranged. What looks? She had the looks of a desperate, filthy vagabond. Nervously she pushed at her grimy hair with sweaty palms, and tried to slow her hammering heart. How the hell had she gotten herself into this mess?
    Her twin sister had tried to warn her. Told her she was crazy to risk her life living among the homeless for her thesis project. But would she listen? No. And now...well, now Erica would finally realize her dream of being an only child. Her yen to help the down-and-out had always driven Erica crazy, she thought frantically as her life flashed before her eyes.
    Standing here, watching the dirtbag eyeball her, she could finally admit that her sister was right. She was nuts. Always had been.
    All her life she was the twin that took up the cause of the underdog, took in the stray, couldn’t resist the person in trouble, no matter how deep. She and Erica may look exactly alike, but they couldn’t be any more different.
    Erica had inherited all of the sensible, levelheaded genes, and she had gotten the bleeding heart. And to think that she’d fast-talked her poor, uptight sister into pretending to be her this summer in her regular summer job as the Spencer family’s nanny...for this! To be killed by a dirtbag on the interstate in L.A.
    Tears of self-pity welled in her eyes. And dang it anyway, she’d left all her ID at home in San Francisco. No one would even know who she was after this guy killed her. What an idiot. Make that, ultra-idiot, she thought, and wondered how one fashioned a deadly weapon out of a piece of cardboard.
    * * *
    What an idiotic thing to do. After slowly coasting mile after endless mile toward home, Tyler had come to the conclusion that he had made a huge mistake in telling Roxanne that he was married. He was in deep, deep trouble and, short of a miracle, he didn’t see any way out.
    Now the owner of the company and the client of the century were mixed up in this ridiculous charade, and Monday night he would have to let them down. Unless...
    Tyler’s mind was momentarily taken off his troubles as he slowly cruised by what looked like a young beggar woman clutching a sign that read Will Work For Food. Some motley character was standing next to her, obviously trying to hire her services.
    She looked desperate. He knew the feeling. She needed a job. He needed a woman. They needed each other.
    Back off, buddy, he thought fiercely as he suddenly found himself veering off the freeway and getting out of his car. She’s mine.
    Was he crazy? The closer he got, the more he could see she looked like