PROLOGUE ONE
From the text archives of
Sebastian “Bash” Prince and Shane Willoughby
Bash: Hey gorgeous, just checking in to make sure you’ll be at poker night tomorrow. I have a proposition I want to run by you while I’m taking your money…
Shane: Hmm…
Well, you know I love poker night, but that sounds a little ominous…
Bash: Nah, not ominous.
Portentous, maybe.
Or delicious.
Or some other word that ends in “shus” that means fun, sexy things. I think you’re going to love what I have in mind!
Shane: Oh God…
You aren’t going to ask me to have a ménage with you and Penny are you?
Bash: Fuck no!
Jesus!
No!
I’m a one-woman man. And Penny would cut my dick off if she even thought that I was thinking about thinking about something like that.
Which I never would.
EVER.
Shane: Oh, good. So glad to hear that!
I mean, Penny’s a hottie, but you’re not really my type, pumpkin. ;)
Bash: Ha ha.
Christ, you actually made me blush.
I can’t remember the last time I blushed.
Penny just asked me why I’m all pink and now she’s laughing her ass off. She wanted to be the one to reach out to you about this, but I said I could handle it.
Thanks for proving me wrong, Willoughby.
Shane: My pleasure!
So what are you reaching out about? Now I’m really intrigued…
Bash: You’re a mess is what you are.
And that’s why you’re perfect for this job. I’m in need of a Gorgeous Mess…
Shane: A Gorgeous Mess…
Bash: Yes, a Gorgeous Mess, capable of taking a misunderstood man in desperate need of an image makeover and transforming him into a media darling. All while scaring off the ex-girlfriend determined to ruin his good name, and maybe faking a pregnancy if things get really dire. But that’s only if stage one doesn’t go as planned.
Shane: Faking a pregnancy? What the heck are you…
Oh, no.
No, way.
You’re not saying you want me to…
Bash: Work for me? Yes! Yes, I am.
I have a Magnificent Bastard and a Spectacular Rascal, but I don’t have a Gorgeous Mess, Shane. In fact, I don’t have a single woman on the intervention side of things in the event that a male client approaches me in desperate need of our particular brand of assistance.
Shane: Oh my God. I don’t know whether to be flattered or horrified.
Bash: Be intrigued! And excited! You’ll be wonderful.
Shane: But I already have a job!
Bash: Not a full time job. You said yourself that your aunt’s charity practically runs itself.
Shane: Sometimes it does, but sometimes I’m very busy raising funds and throwing benefits and changing lives.
Bash: Which is what you’ll be doing for me! You’ll be changing lives—or at least one man’s life. The guy really needs your help.
He’s like a big, sad puppy. A big, sad, sexy puppy.
(Penny told me to add the sexy part so you would know that spending a few weeks making out with the dude won’t be any hardship on your part. And it’ll put a cool ten grand in your pocket! You can’t beat that.)
Shane: I don’t need ten grand, Bash. You know my aunt left me a very *ahem* comfortable inheritance.
Bash: So give the ten grand to charity!
It’s the work that counts, doll. The good work on behalf of a deserving soul who has the right to go about his business without having his good name ruined by a spiteful nightmare of a person who thinks a man ending a relationship is grounds for her to set a bomb off in the middle of his life.
And who knows, you might even have fun!
Dating an NHL star comes with certain perks. I’m sure he can get you season tickets, at the very least. Or maybe a monogrammed hat. Or mittens. You like mittens, right? I mean, who doesn’t like mittens? They make you feel like a kid again!
Shane: He’s a professional hockey player? You’re kidding.
Bash: I’m not.
Shane: But not for the Rangers, though. Some other team?
Bash: No, he’s with the Rangers. Why, are you an Islanders fan?
Shane: No, I’m just…
You wouldn’t by any stretch of the imagination be talking about Jake “the Dragon” Falcone, would you?
Bash: I am. But I swear everything you’ve been reading about him is a pack of lies. The guy is innocent.
Shane: *snort* Like hell he is.
Bash: No, seriously, Shane.
I mean, yes, he’s banged his share of starlets and supermodels, but I verified his side of this particular story myself. After what happened with Aidan and the mob, I’m taking background checks on the clients very seriously these days.
Jake is being framed. He’s a good guy and he really needs our help.
I don’t think he has anywhere else to turn…
Shane: You’re laying it on pretty thick, Prince.
Bash: The guy is really devastated, Shane. (This is Penny, by the way.)
I just wanted to let you know that I think you would do an amazing job with this intervention and really make a difference in this man’s life.
But if you need to say no, I understand. We’ll just have to tell him we can’t help him and wish him luck finding someone else who specializes in taking down evil ex-girlfriends. I’m sure he’ll be able to find someone out there like that.
I mean, I’ve never heard of anyone who does what we do here at MBC, but…
Shane: Fine! Ugh! I’m helpless against the double guilt-trip.
I’ll do it. You can fill me in on all the details over cards tomorrow.
Bash: Thank you, Shane! Thank you so much. We really appreciate this. And you’re going to have some extra good karma coming your way, Babes.
Shane: Yeah, yeah. Make that a bottle of really nice scotch waiting for me at my poker spot. Scotch goes down easier than karma.
Bash: Done!
Shane: Oh, and Bash. I want my name to be the Miraculous Mess.
Bash: Gorgeous wasn’t alliterative enough for you?
Shane: No.
Because to get “the Dragon” out of the public relations shit pit he’s in, I’m going to have to be a fucking miracle worker.