Faking Ms. Right: A Hot Romantic Comedy (Dirty Martini Running Club Book 1)

Iread the email for probably the tenth time, a potent mix of feelings swirling in my tummy. It was from Cameron Whitbury, entrepreneur and self-made billionaire. And she wanted to talk to me about a job.

Cameron was in the process of starting a charitable foundation. Her email talked about social responsibility and using her wealth to help people. How she needed a more organized approach to charitable giving. She could be doing so much more, but her schedule was already full. A charitable foundation would allow her to support organizations doing good work, start scholarship programs, and fund causes and research.

And she was considering me for the executive director position.

She’d found my profile online and spoken to a few local contacts about me. Apparently, I had a great reputation. I hadn’t even realized I had a reputation. But Shepherd did, and I’d worked with a lot of people both inside and outside his company. That had been enough for her to approach me about her new venture and ask if I’d consider an informal phone interview.

It did sound like an incredible opportunity. I liked my job—and I was good at it—but this would be amazing. I handled all of Shepherd’s charitable giving, and it was the one of the best parts of my job. This would be a huge challenge, but I knew I could do it.

The question was, did I want to?

A new job would mean not working for Shepherd anymore. I had such mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, it was hard to imagine changing jobs. Shepherd and I had a good routine. On the other, this new opportunity had so much potential.

Of course, I might not get it. She just wanted a phone interview. An informal one at that.

I’d started and deleted a reply several times already. A phone interview wasn’t a commitment. There was nothing wrong with me talking to her, just to get more information.

But I didn’t feel good about agreeing to an interview without talking to Shepherd first.

He was in his office—the door open a crack—and he didn’t have anything on his schedule for the rest of the day. I got up and took a deep breath, smoothing out my dress, and went to his office.

I tapped my knuckles on the door a few times. “Hey. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

He looked up from his laptop and his mouth turned up in a subtle smile. “Of course.”

I clicked the door shut behind me. He watched me come in and take a seat on the other side of his desk, a look of curiosity on his face.

“I’m a little disappointed you’re all the way over there.”

God, why was he so sexy? That little grin. Those dimples. That perfect jaw and delicious mouth. He sat back in his chair, his posture all calm confidence.

“Sorry, I’m just… I think we should be…” How should we be? This was certainly a work issue—boss and assistant. But it also touched our personal relationship, whatever that was now. Should I approach this as his employee? His friend? As the woman he was currently living and sleeping with?

His brow furrowed. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes. Fine.” I brushed my hair back over my shoulder. “I got an email recruiting me for a job. It’s an executive director position for a charitable foundation. It’s new, and they’re looking for someone to run it, and somehow they found me. And the email just asks if I’d be open to an informal phone interview. Who knows, they might have a hundred candidates at this point, so chances are I wouldn’t even make it to the next round. But I didn’t feel right about responding without telling you first.”

He looked straight at me, his expression so hard to read. I shifted in my seat, my tummy fluttering with nerves.

“Are you interested in the position?”

“Well, yes. At least, I’m interested in finding out more.”

“Then you should take the interview.”

My lips parted and I blinked a few times. “Really?”

“If it’s what you want, yes.”

I looked down at my hands. I could feel the immaturity of what I was about to say. The silliness of pouting when he was clearly being supportive. “That’s it? You’ll just let me go?”

He shook his head slightly, pressing his lips together as if trying not to laugh. “Everly, you’re the best assistant I’ve ever had. You’re amazing and I have incredible respect for you as a professional. I don’t want to lose you. But I’m also a realist, and I know you won’t work for me forever. That email you got was inevitable. You’re amazing, and everyone you come in contact with knows it. If it isn’t this opportunity, it’ll be something else. And I’m not going to hold your career back. If this turns out to be the right move for you, then I’ll be nothing but happy for you.”

Tears. I had stupid, unstoppable tears running down my face, right here in Shepherd’s office. Fighting a sudden wave of embarrassment, I swiped them away. “Wow. That was… Thank you. I don’t know what to say.”

“Come here.”

I couldn’t quite look him in the eyes as I walked around his desk. He swiveled his chair and scooped me into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around me.

Leaning my head against his shoulder, I closed my eyes and breathed him in. He was so amazing, and I was so stupidly in love with him. For a second, I thought about telling him. Right here, in his office. Confessing to these very real feelings I had for my fake fiancé.

But I didn’t. This was such a nice moment. And what if he couldn’t say it back? I didn’t want to ruin it when things were fine.

Okay, mostly fine.

“Just promise me one thing,” he said.

I sat up and brushed more tears off my face. “What?”

“If and when you get a new job, help me find your replacement. I’m trying to be the mature professional here, but I’m actually not sure how I’d ever live without you.”

My silly little heart soared at that comment. I knew he meant at work. Of course he meant at work. He wasn’t saying he literally couldn’t live without me, or that he wanted to make this whole thing real.

Calm down, Everly.

“I promise. I’ll find you someone great.”

He touched my chin and brought his lips to mine for a soft kiss. “Thank you.”

I slid off his lap and stood, smoothing down my dress. “I should get back to work.”

“Dinner tonight?” he asked. “Anywhere you want.”

“Really? Anywhere?”

“Absolutely. What would make you happy?”

I couldn’t do dinner tonight. I had plans with my sister. But I also couldn’t resist messing with him. “There’s this taco truck that’s usually parked somewhere up in Shoreline. It’s a little bit of a drive, and they only take cash, and sometimes they don’t actually let you order, they just tell you what you’re getting. And one time I ordered a Diet Coke with my meal, and the can kind of smelled like raw meat, which probably wasn’t good. But it’s like five dollars for this huge plate of tacos, and they’re delicious.”

He stared at me, unblinking. Silent.

I laughed. “I’m kidding. Although I have been there, and it’s really good. But I can’t, I’m having dinner with my sister tonight.”

He let out a breath and shook his head. “Right. I forgot about dinner with your sister. Tomorrow?”

“I’m free tomorrow.”

He smiled again, and as usual, I got all melty inside. “Perfect. It’s a date.”

“Yes. A date.”

I turned for the door.

“Everly?”

“Yeah?” I glanced over my shoulder.

“I meant to ask, who would you be working for?”

“Cameron Whitbury.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Why? Do you know her?”

His expression softened. “Her? Cameron’s a woman?”

“You’ve never heard of her? She’s one of the richest women in America.”

“I don’t know every wealthy person in the world.”

I grinned at him. “Were you worried some rich man was trying to take me away from you?”

He shook his head again and turned back to his laptop. “Have fun with your sister.”

“I will.”

I went back to my desk, feeling both better and worse. If I got this new job, and didn’t work here anymore… and Richard broke up with Svetlana… would I see Shepherd anymore?

But if our fake engagement ended, and I still worked here, how would I handle seeing him every day?

I opened the email again. I really was interested. Maybe it wouldn’t work out—and maybe things with Shepherd wouldn’t work out either—but I was nothing if not an optimist. I clicked reply, wrote a friendly and professional response indicating that I would love to chat about this opportunity, took a deep breath, and hit send.

With that resolved, for the moment at least, I felt a bit better. I’d see where this went. But there was another issue in my life—a big one—that still needed resolution. But I was going to put that to rest tonight.

The dinner Annie and Miranda served was amazing. No surprise there, since my sister was basically perfect. Grilled salmon with lemon and dill. Roasted vegetables with fresh herbs. A delicious Salishan Cellars chardonnay.

I was feeling a little run down and my throat tickled, making me cough. It was probably just the stress of everything lately. The party, contemplating a new job, plus the worry over how I was going to break the news to Annie that they needed to find a new potential donor. I took a drink of water to see if it would help.

“I can’t wait to get the photos from the party,” Miranda said. “I think we went into the photo booth ten times.”

“I loved those giant cat eye glasses,” Annie said. “The black and gold ones?”

“They were very fetching on you,” Miranda said with a laugh.

“I’m glad you guys had fun,” I said. “I think Richard missed his calling in life. He should be a party planner.”

“Shepherd has such a nice family,” Annie said.

“You sound surprised.”

“I am, a little. The way you always talked about Shepherd, I didn’t expect his dad to be so fun and friendly.”

“I was surprised the first time I met him, too.”

“Although, to be fair, Shepherd wasn’t what I expected either,” she said. “He’s a great dancer.”

I almost sighed at the memory of Shepherd twirling me around on the dance floor. “Yeah, he is. Which was also a surprise.”

“Well, he certainly wasn’t a robot, like you always said.” Annie refilled Miranda’s wine. “He seems like he has a great personality.”

He does, he just doesn’t always let people see it.

I stifled a cough—why wasn’t that tickle in my throat going away?—and took a sip of wine. She’d just given me the perfect opportunity to bring up the elephant in the room.

“Listen, Annie, I need to talk to you about the sperm donor thing. I can’t ask Shepherd to be your donor. In fact, I have to ask you not to ask him at all. I know it seems like he’s basically perfect, and god, he really is, you have no idea. And I know you had your heart set on him, and I really want to help, but I just can’t. I don’t feel right about it.”

Annie laid her hand over mine and smiled. “It’s fine. You’re absolutely right, we can’t ask Shepherd to be our donor.”

“Really?”

“No. After seeing you two together at the engagement party…” She trailed off and glanced at Miranda. “Well, don’t worry. We’re going to find someone else.”

I let out a long sigh. “Oh, thank goodness. Wait. After seeing us together? What does that mean?”

“You two make an amazing couple.”

“Fake couple,” I said. Sort of. Were we?

“Everly, you can’t fake that much chemistry.”

Miranda nodded. “The way he looks at you? There was nothing fake about that.”

I loved my sister, and Miranda, but they’d never been the ones I confided in, especially about relationships. Or sex. And right now, I didn’t really feel like explaining what was happening between me and Shepherd. Because the truth was, I wasn’t sure.

So I just shrugged off their comments. “We work well together. Thanks again for being there. And for finding a new donor.”

“Yeah, of course,” Annie said. “The perfect someone is out there. We’ll find him.”

“And you’ll be the best two mommies ever.”

I declined another glass of wine and left shortly after dinner was over. Why was I so tired? Of course, I had a lot on my mind. Shepherd. My job. At least I didn’t have to worry about telling Annie I couldn’t ask Shepherd to be their donor anymore. I was relieved they’d taken it so well. Hopefully they’d find the right person soon.

I stopped by my apartment on the way home, just to check on things. The air was stuffy, and the furniture a little dusty, sending me into a painful coughing fit. I really didn’t feel well. But otherwise, nothing was amiss. After giving the place a once-over, I left. Went home. Or at least, my home for now.

An odd feeling of familiarity stole through me when I got back to Shepherd’s condo. This place felt more like home than my apartment did, now. It was probably just because I’d spent the last couple of months living here. It was more immediate.

But Shepherd was here. And I realized as I shut the door behind me, that he was starting to feel like home.

Which was probably going to get me into trouble. But at this point, I was a goner for that man.