1
Avery
My life is built on a solid foundation of lies and fake relationships.
In third grade, I wanted to be class president. I convinced a little redheaded boy to be my boyfriend so I could capture the Pokémon vote. As I was being sworn in on a copy ofTales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, I realized I had found the biggest life hack ever.
I honed my craft over the next decade. School dance, prom, graduation party, a wedding—your girl Avery brought a fake boyfriend.Yes, Aunt Becky, he’s totally the love of my life—I met him two days ago in a bar!I swapped bikini photos, gift cards, alcohol, and more for fake relationships. My fake boyfriends were varied too—nerdy guys, gym rats, and ex-Marines. Once I even fake dated an underwear model, though he was gay. In exchange, I had been his fake girlfriend for his family Christmas one year. He was now happily gay-married with two kids, while I had branched from fake relationships into fake jobs.
That was how I found myself sitting in the swanky ThinkX offices in Manhattan; I had lied up and down my resumé that I was an experienced personal assistant. Hey, don’t judge; I had to shut up my obnoxious half sister. I could not suffer through another family gathering where Cassie made snide comments about how I was a jobless loser with a useless hospitality degree.
I had expected that my new boss, Blade Svensson, would see right through the ruse after a day. He was a billionaire, after all, and with his brother, Weston, had built a powerhouse consulting firm. You would expect that a man like that would see through female lies and smoke screens, but you would be wrong.
Blade was the aloof, workaholic brother though, while Weston was the extroverted ladies’ man. Blade preferred to keep human female contact to a minimum. I wondered if that was why he hadn’t fired me, because I kept the distractions at bay.
Speaking of which, one of the interns was weaving her way to my desk, which guarded Blade's office. The women at the firm, especially the new hires, thought that Blade’s standoffishness was a weakness to be exploited. Who didn’t want a billionaire husband?
Kitty, hired only two days ago for a spring internship, minced over to my desk in her wobbly high heels and unprofessionally short dress.
“Blade isn’t in yet,” I said, baring my teeth at her.
She batted her eyelashes. “I just wanted to thank him for hiring me!”
I looked her up and down. “I can see your vagina in that dress.”
Kitty made a shocked noise and pulled at the stretchy fabric.
“Blade is a busy man,” I said. “He doesn’t date, and he certainly doesn’t want your bodily fluids all over his office.”
She tossed her hair. “You’re just keeping him for yourself! But I bet he would never be interested in you. You couldn’t attract someone like him even if you sprawled out naked on his desk.” She flounced off, tugging at the hem of her dress as she walked.
“College girls,” I muttered and turned back to my computer. I could get a man if I wanted to! Not that I wanted someone like Blade—billionaires were weird and high maintenance. I was a simple creature. I checked my watch; Blade was late. He usually came in right at eight.
High-pitched giggling sounded on the floor as Blade stormed in at ten till nine in a cloud of cologne. I coughed dramatically as Blade scowled.
“Geez, did you have a morning boink? Why are you wearing that much cologne?” I wheezed. “It’s like, Welcome to Hollister, here's your gas mask and a flashlight!”
“My brother did this,” Blade snarled, though he didn’t reprimand me for my snarky greeting. That was our thing—Blade glowered and never smiled while I made irreverent comments.
I waved my hand in front of my face and shoved him into his office, opening the French doors to the balcony that looked out over the expensive view of Manhattan.
“Let’s just put you in here to air out. You’re going to make people sick. It’s like being back in high school gym class.” I thought I saw the barest hint of a smile, but I was probably wrong. The man had zero sense of humor.
Stacy, a manager who had let a minute amount of power completely go to her head, was waiting outside the office. She might as well have licked her lips as she peered through the open doorway. I slammed it shut.
“Do you have a meeting?” I snapped.
“I’m here to talk to Blade about the Harris & Schultz contract,” she said. “I’m the project manager on it. It’s kind of a big deal.”
“I’ll see if he has an opening,” I replied.
“No need. This is a very important contract. We have to win,” Blade said, coming out of his office. Stacy smirked at me as she followed Blade to a conference room.
What did I care? Billionaires were stupid, and Blade had all the personality of a block of wood, though I suspected he had an incredible body under that suit. Really, though, I knew I shouldn’t go down that road. Blade was a Svensson brother, and they were all crazy. They had grown up in a polygamist cult in the desert. You couldn’t trust a man like that—one day you’re in a nice restaurant, the next thing you know, you’re locked up in his basement while a religious ceremony makes you wife number seven. No thanks. Besides, I didn’t date; I only did fake relationships. Life was simpler that way.
I fiddled with the watch on my wrist. The clunky, ugly watch had been a “gift” from my father, and it was an unfortunate reminder that I was seeing my family tonight. I wished I had a fake boyfriend to bring to that, but the one I had scraped up off Tinder had ghosted me, so I was going alone. It annoyed my father to see me wear the watch, which was why I did it. I forced myself not to think about him. I was going to have family time that evening; I didn’t need them living rent free in my head.
Turning back to my computer, I booked appointments and took calls for Blade while scrolling through Pinterest. My dream job was to be a wedding planner. My grandmother owned a rambling historic mansion in Harrogate, complete with a rolling lawn, photogenic outbuildings, and enough rooms to host an entire wedding party plus guests. My half sister hated the house, but I loved it. If I had money, I would buy it from my grandma and turn it into an upscale wedding venue and luxury bed and breakfast. Maybe it would be enough to let me into the Weddings in the City group. I sighed longingly as I looked at their latest Instagram post. They were cool girls who planned the weddings of the rich, famous, and powerful in the Northeast.
