Page 18 of Most Likely to Deny Love (Yearbook #2)
MIA
I pushed through the front door of our little house, dropped my purse on the entryway table, and made a beeline for the kitchen. My brain was still spinning from Jack’s offer, replaying his words over and over like a broken record.
I could do it. Be your date.
The refrigerator door opened with a soft whoosh, and I grabbed the bottle of Pinot Grigio like it was a lifeline.
I didn’t even like white wine, but this would hve to do.
My hands trembled slightly as I poured myself a generous glass, not even bothering to grab one of the stemmed glasses from the cabinet. The kitchen tumbler would have to do.
I glanced toward the back of the house, noticing the warm glow spilling from the sunroom.
Emily was painting, lost in her creative world.
I huffed out an impatient breath, desperate to unload the absolute insanity of my evening.
But interrupting Emily mid-creation was like poking a hibernating bear.
So I leaned against the kitchen counter and took a long gulp of wine, letting the cool tartness wash down my throat. Then another. And another, until the glass was empty and I was already pouring a refill.
Be your date. For the wedding. And whatever other events.
I took another generous sip. What the actual fuck was happening in my life? My boss, my incredibly hot, wildly successful, brooding boss had offered to pretend to be my boyfriend. For months. To save me from my mother’s matchmaking schemes.
Finally, I heard the sound of the sunroom door creaking open, then Emily’s footsteps. The moment she appeared in the kitchen doorway, she took one look at me, wine glass clutched in my hand, and frowned. “You okay?”
I stared at her for a moment, then blurted, “Jack just offered to be my fake boyfriend.”
Emily’s frown deepened. “Jack who?”
“Jack Sullivan.”
Her eyes widened comically as she stared at me, blinking slowly as if her brain was buffering. “I must be losing my hearing, because I swear you just said broody, closed off Jack Sullivan offered to be your fake boyfriend.”
“That’s exactly what I said.” I gulped down more wine.
Emily’s mouth fell open, and she gestured wildly toward my glass. “Holy fucking god! I’m going to need one of those, stat!”
I reached for another tumbler and filled it to the brim, then topped off my own glass. Emily accepted hers with paint-stained fingers, and we silently migrated to the living room like two shell shocked survivors.
We both sank down on the couch, drawing our feet up under us.
“Okay, from the beginning. Don’t leave out a single detail or I will literally die.”
I filled her in on everything, starting with my mortifying panic attack in the server room, how Jack had found me and had somehow known exactly what to do.
The conversation in his office where I’d made that stupid joke about hiring an escort.
Then finally, his completely unexpected offer to pose as my boyfriend until Megan’s wedding.
When I finished, Emily stared at me over the rim of her glass, her eyes wide and unblinking. “Tell me you said yes.”
“What? Are you insane?” I spluttered, nearly choking on my wine.
Emily groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. “You turned him down?”
“No. I said I’d think about it.” I twisted a strand of hair around my finger nervously.
Emily clapped her hands together, paint flaking off her fingers onto the rug. “Great. So you’re absolutely, one hundred percent, definitely marching into work tomorrow and taking him up on this incredible offer.”
The absolute certainty in her voice made my stomach flip. I shook my head, sinking deeper into the couch cushions. “I honestly don’t think I can do that, Em.”
“If you have any love for me whatsoever, you will.” She clutched her heart like a Victorian maiden about to swoon.
That made me laugh, the tension in my shoulders loosening slightly. “Okay, now I know you’ve lost your mind.”
“No, I haven’t.” She set her glass down on the coffee table and fixed me with a look so intense I almost squirmed. “Just think of all the good it will do.”
“Like what exactly?” I challenged.
Emily held up one paint-stained finger. “First, your mom would finally shut up about finding you a date. The texts would stop. The setups would stop. The not-so-subtle comments about your dating life would stop.”
She added a second finger. “Second, imagine Megan’s face when you show up with Jack Sullivan on your arm.
Your sister thinks she’s got the catch of the century with her finance bro?
Ha!” Emily let out a laugh that bordered on diabolical.
“Jack is like... a whole different species of man. He makes Megan’s fiancé look like a boy playing dress-up. ”
I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. The mental image was admittedly satisfying.
“Third,” Emily continued, clearly on a roll now, “this is exactly the confidence boost you need. Walking into those family events with someone like Jack beside you? You’d feel invincible.”
I took another sip of wine as her words sank in. She wasn’t entirely wrong.
“And finally,” Emily’s eyes gleamed with mischief, “can you imagine the sheer drama of it all? It would be like something straight out of a movie! The successful, gorgeous boss steps in to rescue his employee from family torment? It’s too perfect!
” She clutched her hands to her chest, practically vibrating with excitement. “The story we’d tell for years!”
I drank some more wine, feeling it warm my veins and blur the edges of my caution. Emily’s enthusiasm was infectious, and as much as I wanted to dismiss her reasoning... I couldn’t. Because she was making some really valid points.
“You might be right,” I admitted hesitantly, chewing on my bottom lip.
Emily nearly spilled her wine as she bounced in her seat. “No might about it, girl. I’m definitely right! All you have to do now is go straight to his office first thing, let him know you’ll accept his gracious offer, then kiss him.”
I choked on my wine, coughing as it went down the wrong pipe. “What the fuck? Why do I have to kiss him?”
Emily rolled her eyes like I was being deliberately obtuse. “Do not pretend you don’t want to. You can’t fool me.”
Heat crept up my neck, spreading across my cheeks. “Of course I want to! I’m only human, after all! But wanting and doing are two very different things.”
“You have to kiss him,” Emily insisted, leaning forward so eagerly she nearly slid off the couch.
“You need to know if the chemistry is there. The whole charade will fall apart if you don’t have that, because your mom and Megan, and my mom as well, will sniff it out in the first two minutes of meeting him. ”
I slumped back against the couch cushions, my mind racing. Emily wasn’t wrong. If we couldn’t sell this, it would be worse than showing up alone.
“But what if it’s... awkward?” I asked, voicing my biggest fear. “What if we kiss and there’s nothing there, and then I have to see him every day at work knowing we have the romantic chemistry of two potatoes?”
Emily snorted. “You really think that’s going to happen? I’ve seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one’s watching.”
My heart stuttered. “What are you talking about?”
“Please.” She waved dismissively. “The man’s eyes follow you around the room like you’re magnetic north and he’s a compass. There’s going to be chemistry.”
I picked at a loose thread on the couch, considering her words. The memory of Jack’s arms around me in the server room, the gentle pressure of his fingers against my neck, the warmth of his breath against my hair... none of that had felt potato-like.
“And even if there isn’t,” Emily continued, refilling both our glasses, “you’ll know right away and can come up with some excuse to decline his offer. No harm done.”
“Except for the part where I have to face him every day knowing I kissed my boss and it was terrible,” I groaned.
“Trust me, it won’t be terrible.” Emily’s confidence was unwavering. “But you’ll never know unless you try.”
I let the possibilities swirl around in my mind. The thought of walking into my mother’s house with Jack Sullivan by my side, of seeing the shock on their faces, of having someone in my corner for once... it was tempting. More than tempting.
“I’ll sleep on it,” I finally said, unable to commit fully but no longer dismissing the idea outright.
Emily’s answering smile was triumphant, as if she already knew what decision I’d make come morning.
And maybe she did. Because despite all the reasons this was wildly inappropriate and potentially disastrous, I couldn’t stop thinking about Jack’s offer. About his hands on my waist, steadying me. About the intensity in his eyes when he’d said, “I could do it.”
About what it might feel like to kiss him, even if it was just to test our chemistry for a charade.
Sleep was going to be a long time coming tonight.