The next morning, her phone vibrated like it had been possessed. The group chat had exploded overnight with heart emojis, and at least two photoshopped mockups of her future wedding to Liam Carter.
Jules: He let you in his limo? Girl, that's practically foreplay in a billionaire language."
Tina: "You're engaged!"
Jules: "Dinner. My place. Tonight. Bring your face and details."
Sophie chuckled as she sipped her coffee. And for the first time in ages, she felt something she hadn't felt in a while.
Alive and Important. Not someone everyone pitied at bridal showers. She paused, her mug halfway to her lips.
What if...
Her eyes narrowed at the thought, playfully but curiously.
What if she asked him to be her boyfriend for her cousin's wedding? That would be a mission impossible. But..
Just for a weekend. A few photos. Some strategic smiles. Enough to silence her mother, obliterate the judgmental looks, and make Jules combust with curiosity.
Not a good idea.
But still.
She tapped her nails against the mug, staring to the distance like someone plotting a heist.
"I could ask."
Her houseplant remained silent, but deeply judgmental.
She could already pictured it.
"Tell me everything!" Jules would scream, eyes glittering.
"Nothing happened." she would reply, and then Jules would shout something like "You touched the seat he touched with his butt!"
She found herself in the small pre-wedding gathering hosted by Ella's bridal party. She spotted Ella first, who rushed over with her usual sunshine and cinnamon-roll energy.
"Sophie! You look so good! Oh my gosh, is that a new dress?"
"It has pockets."
"You're a goddess," Ella declared, giving her a quick hug. "Please ignore others, they're a wedding drunk."
Unfortunately, she didn't have time to ask what "wedding drunk" meant because standing right behind Ella like a statue was Treyton.
"Still single?" he asked casually, like he was commenting on the weather.
She opened her mouth to reply with something witty but Jules beat her to it.
"She might not be." Jules said sweetly. In fact, Sophie might be bringing a surprise to the wedding."
Treyton's smug look faltered.
"Oh?" he said, suddenly cautious.
Jules sipped her drink like it was tea and she was the queen of spite.
She smiled, though inwardly she sighed.
"Yeah," Jules continued with a breezy grin. "Very tall. Very successful. Possibly owns a Tech company."
Ella gave Sophie an excited squeal. But she dragged Jules away before Treyton would grill her for details.
Once they were alone by the cheese table, Sophie hissed, "What did you do?"
"Said the truth!" Jules said, "And also, you're welcome. Now, all you have to do is to bring him over to convince everyone."
"You don't understand!"
"You rode in his limo. That's practically an introduction to an engagement!"
She was stuck.
How on earth would she ask the CEO of her place of work, whom she had spoken to once, briefly, while trying not to sweat in his limo to pretend to be her boyfriend of a wedding full of judgmental relatives, an awful cousin-in-law, and nagging friends.
Easy.
No pressure.
She took a deep breath, stared into her drink, and whispered to herself.
"Dear God, please don't make me get fired."
She stepped into the office like a woman on a mission, which would've been more convincing if she hadn't also looked like a woman one wrong glance away from fainting. She clutched her bag with a desperate grip.
Amber noticed the look on her face.
"You okay? You look like you've just said hi to a ghost."
Why not? She didn't sleep well last night.
"I'm fine. Just...had a lot of coffee."
Amber smirked. "Or maybe you're just rattled from all the whispers about you and the CEO."
She froze. "What whispers?"
Amber leaned like a drama-sniffing bloodhound. "Girl, people saw you get into his limo. At night. Alone."
"It wasn't like that."
"Sure." Amber winked. "So logistical, it smelled like cologne and unresolved tension."
Speaking of cologne, she realized with a jolt that she had not thanked him for the ride. She'd been too caught up in her fake-boyfriend-scheme meltdown to remember.
And now? Now was the perfect excuse.
you're going to say thank you and keep it casual.
She walked towards his office with trembling hands and the confidence of a soggy teabag. Through the glass door, she saw silhouettes.
Still, she knocked lightly.
Voice quieted. A man in a crisp suit stepped out, brushing past her without a glance.
There he was, in a slate-grey suit, neat as usual, fingers curled loosely around a mug of coffee, hazel eyes focused and steady. His manly cologne wafted to her nose. She stood there trying not to inhale it like it was oxygen.
He looked up. "Miss Blake, right? I was trying to place your face. From the other night."
His voice was low, precise, with a trace of interest, like someone who read people for sport.
She swallowed hard. "Yes...I wanted to thank you. For the ride the other night."
He gestured to the seat opposite him. "Please, sit."
Sophie sat, her bag nearly tipping the chair.
"I'm about to say something weird right now," she began, face heating. "I was thinking. More like panicking. I had this wedding and a lie. And now I'm in a weird place."
Liam watched her with an amused brow.
She took a breath. "So, I was wondering if maybe, just temporarily, you could pretend to be my boyfriend at the wedding. One weekend and I'll pay you."
Silence.
She held her breath, cheeks pink, stomach doing Olympic-level flips.
Liam set down his mug and leaned back. "Miss Blake, I hope this doesn't offend you, but I want to make it clear that I'm not interested in pursuing anything romantic with my staff."
Sophie's eyes widened. "Oh no! Me neither! I mean not interested in you. Not because you're not attractive. It's terrifying really but this isn't romance. It's business."
His lips twitched, as if a laugh was trying to escape but refused to be unprofessional.
"You want to hire me to fake-date you."
"Exactly! Just for the wedding. I'll pay any amount."
He opened his mouth to reply but his PA popped in, clipboard in hand. "Mr. Carter, people are waiting."
Oh no.
He nodded at her, then looked at Sophie, his expression blank. "Excuse me, we'll talk later."
She was dismissed and left with sweaty palms, a racing heart, and a burning desire to evaporate into mist.