Mr. Right: The Complete Fake Engagement Series

by Lilian Monroe

  And now?

  Now I’m sleeping in a starchy hotel bed, with no fiancé, no wedding, no husband, nothing.

  I don’t know how it all went so wrong. I mean, I know how it went wrong, but how did I ignore all the signs? The phone calls, the late nights out, changing his passcode, messages from other women… it was all there. If I really think about it, I can probably pinpoint the time when he started cheating on me. It could have been about three months ago, after a big win, he went out with the team and after that night, the distance started.

  And I kept clinging on like a fool.

  I turn onto my side and take a deep breath. Mr. Moose is on the bed next to me. He must be having a dream about chasing a squirrel or something, because his little legs are moving fast. I smile, putting my palm on my dog’s stomach. At least he’s loyal to me.

  Maybe I brought this on myself. Maybe it’s a curse. My mother was stuck with my alcoholic, abusive father, and now I only chase after assholes, too. It’s a cycle.

  That’s not true. My college boyfriend, Max—he was good. But I was so desperate to get away from my family and to get my ticket away from my horrible past that I dumped him at the first sign of trouble. Sure, I got a big, fancy job and a big, fancy fiancé, but look at me now!

  Alone. Heartbroken.

  Where’s Max, I wonder? I sigh. I hope he’s happy. He deserved better than me.

  This must be karma. This whole engagement is just me getting what I deserve: a broken heart and a failed engagement.

  I sigh, and Rachael’s name pings on my phone.

  Rachael: I can hear you tossing and turning all the way from Boston.

  Farrah: You know me too well.

  I wait a few seconds, and then I keep typing. I just keep thinking that maybe I’m getting what I deserve. Maybe I’m destined to turn out exactly like my mother: chained to some asshole and too afraid to leave.

  Rachael: If you’d have stayed with Elijah, that might be true. But you’re not too afraid to leave. You left. You’re strong.

  Farrah: I don’t understand why I put up with all that. I knew he was messing around on me. I just chose to ignore it. Why am I such an idiot with men?!

  Three dots appear under Rachael’s name. I watch her type for a long time, as if she’s erasing something and re-writing it. Finally, her message comes through.

  Rachael: You’re not an idiot. You’re just looking for something in men that they can’t provide.

  My heart starts thumping. I can feel that there’s some truth in what she’s saying. I know that whatever she means, that’s what’s in the middle of all my problems with men and relationships. But on some level, I just don’t understand. What am I looking for that they can’t provide?

  My phone pings again when I don’t answer.

  Rachael: You want my advice?

  Farrah: I don’t think so. But yes.

  Rachael: haha

  The three dots appear again, and my heart starts thumping. I’m not sure I’m ready to hear what she has to say. So far, Rachael has been right about everything. There might some real tough love coming my way in the next text message.

  Rachael: My advice is to take the job in Boston. And I’m not just saying that because I want you to move closer to me. Be single. Be yourself. Fall in love with yourself. Forget about men, and stability, and comfort, and marriage, and just do you. You’ve spent the past ten years looking for this perfect relationship that you’re neglecting yourself and you’re ignoring signs of a bad relationship.

  Tears stream down my face and I take a deep, shaking breath.

  I know she’s right. I know that with Max, with Elijah, with every single boyfriend I’ve ever had, I’ve been looking for the type of perfect relationship that probably doesn’t even exist. I’ve ignored all the warning signs and ignored my insecurities. I’ve put too much pressure on my partners to pick up the slack for my own problems with commitment.

  Rachael can sense my mood, and she text me again.

  Rachael: Worst case, we can be old spinsters together. We can wear matching pantsuits and have boy-toys that are in their twenties to attend to our every need.

  I snort, laughing and wiping my eyes. I send through a bunch of laughing emojis.

  Farrah: That sounds better than being cheated on by my fiancé.

  Rachael: Fuck him. Come to Boston. Live your life.

  Farrah: You have a two-bedroom apartment, right? I’m not sleeping on a couch when I get there. I’m not that sad.

  Rachael: You’ll be a senior financial manager for Angel Investments, honey. I’ll make sure Victor puts you up in a luxury hotel till you get back on your feet.

  I grin, looking away from my phone. This is starting to feel like a good idea. It could be a fresh start. I take a deep breath and my phone pings.

  Rachael: And look, check this out.

  She sends a photo through. I wait for it to load, and then a smile spreads over my face. I start laughing.

  It’s a screenshot of the Super Bowl score: 36-7 for the Patriots. Elijah’s team got creamed. As terrible as it is, it actually does make me feel a hell of a lot better.

  I grin.

  Farrah: At least today is getting better as it goes on.

  Rachael: See you soon.

  She sends a winky-face emoji and I smile again. Rachael’s right. I’ll go to Boston, and I’ll learn how to be on my own. It’s terrifying and exciting, and I already know it’s the right decision.

  12

  Jesse

  I’m exhausted. My body is broken. Every muscle aches, and I’ve already got big, angry bruises appearing all over my body.

  None of that matters though, because we fucking did it. We won the Super Bowl, and I’ll be getting the ring to prove it. Rigley puts another jug of beer on the table and fills my glass.

  “You played the best game of your life, Matthews,” he laughs, clapping me on the back. “We couldn’t have won without you.”

  “We’re a team,” I reply modestly, but his compliment makes me smile. I did play the game of my life. It was like everything flowed perfectly—every pass, every play, everything we did just worked.

  It also helped that Elijah fell apart in the second quarter. I guess losing your fiancée and then being down by a couple touchdowns will do that to a person. I could see him staring at me from across the field. His face was angrier than I’d ever seen it, but it only spurred me on.

  And then we won.

  No, we didn’t just win. We demolished them.

  Jordan claps me on the shoulder and I smile. He nods to a group of women standing at the bar. They’re staring at me and smiling. A blonde one gives me a little wave with the tips of her fingers. She stares at me and bats her long, fake eyelashes.

  “Looks like you’ve got some new fans,” he grins. “Want me to play wingman?”

  The woman is beautiful, for sure. A few months ago, she’d have been exactly my type. But now? All I can picture is Farrah. I shake my head. “Nah. Not tonight.”

  His eyebrows shoot up, but he says nothing. I clink my glass against his and we start rehashing the game for the millionth time, play by play, second by second. We re-live our victory over and over until the bar’s lights come on and it’s time to go home.

  The whole team is still celebrating when we fly back to Boston. I look at the ring on my finger and smile. It might make me a terrible person, but I’m glad Elijah crumpled under the pressure. I’m glad Farrah left him, and I hope she leaves him for good.

  There’s a little sliver of hope in my heart, and I try to extinguish it. She just left him, but that doesn’t mean she’s any closer to being with me. She lives in a different city, for fuck’s sake! I need to nip this in the bud. Maybe I should have hooked up with that chick at the bar, after all.

  I look at my hands. In a few weeks, I’ll have a glittering, over-the-top, diamond-studded Super Bowl ring. Everything that I’ve been working for since I was a kid, I’ve just achieved.

  Elijah doesn
’t deserve that Super Bowl ring, and he doesn’t deserve her engagement ring, either. My smarmy, arrogant brother has finally gotten what he deserved: a swift kick in the ass.

  I lean back in the airplane seat and close my eyes.

  He may have gotten what he deserved, but Farrah definitely didn’t. I saw the pain in her eyes when she ran away, and I can’t imagine how she must feel.

  Should I call her?

  As soon as the thought enters my head, I shake it away. First of all, how would I get her phone number? I could call Elijah and say, ‘Hey, sorry for your breakup and your loss yesterday, by the way can you give me your ex’s number so I can call her?’

  Pfft.

  Nope.

  And even if I did call her, what the hell would I say?

  No, this is definitely a situation that is firmly in the ‘none of my business’ category. I can just imagine Maria’s raised eyebrow and head shaking at me. She wouldn’t even approve of me thinking about it.

  But still, I can’t stop thinking about Farrah. I wish I could talk to her, and comfort her. I wish I could make sure she was okay. She must be hurting now.

  Fuck, I hope she doesn’t go back to him. She’s way too good for him.

  It takes all my concentration to stop thinking about the scene in the stadium between my brother and Farrah. Instead, I focus on the win. When we get back to Boston, there are interviews and parties and celebrations to attend. I ignore the comments about my age and about retirement, and try to focus on how good it feels to have that Super Bowl ring on my finger. Jordan and I land an interview on the most popular morning show in the state.

  “So tell us, Jesse, how did it feel to play against your brother in such a big game?” The pretty blonde morning show host smiles at me. I shift in my chair and hear it creak under my weight.

  How embarrassing would it be to have a chair collapse under my weight on television?

  The host is still waiting for an answer, so I flash her a smile.

  “Well, Elijah and I have always been competitive. I’m not going to lie and say it didn’t feel good,” I grin. She titters, batting her lashes.

  The producer makes a hand signal, and the host turns to the camera. She says something about going to commercials, and as soon as the red light goes off, she lets out a big sigh.

  “You should do more TV, Jesse,” she says. “You’re a natural.”

  “Nothing about this feels natural,” I laugh. “But thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “Congratulations again on the big win. You doing anything to celebrate?” She stands up and closes the distance between us, running her manicured hand up my bicep. She gives me a coy smile, and I know she wants me to invite her out. I can tell by the way she’s giving me the come-fuck-me eyes and I do my best to keep my face neutral.

  I shrug. “Might just take it easy. It’s been pretty hectic since we got back.” Her smile falls the tiniest bit, and I push myself off the creaking chair. “Thanks for everything.”

  When I’m back in the dressing room, Jordan punches my arm.

  “What the fuck, dude! She totally wanted to get with you.”

  “I know. Not my type.”

  Jordan laughs. “She’s exactly your type. How long have I known you? What’s wrong with you? You should be drowning in pussy right now! You’re the quarterback who just won the fucking Super Bowl!”

  I just laugh and grab my jacket.

  “Come on. Danny’s waiting for us in the car.” Our PR manager has a full schedule of interview for us today. Jordan and I seem to be the poster boys for the victory.

  I don’t mind. Being on TV is a nice change of pace, and it stops me from obsession over her. Maybe Jordan’s right—maybe I should be drowning in pussy. But when women like the host come on to me, or women at bars we go to, my cock doesn’t even move. It’s like a switch inside me has flipped, and I don’t know what to do to turn it back on.

  13

  Farrah

  Once I accept the position at Angel Investments, things happen fast. I’m flown up to Boston the following day, Wednesday, to start three days of paperwork and training. They put me up in an absolutely incredible hotel for a month to give me time to find a new place. I’m given a moving allowance, and the list of benefits for this job is a mile long.

  This is starting to feel like the best decision I ever made.

  I meet my new boss, Victor. His personality fills any room he’s in. He made a lot of money starting a tech company a few years ago, and this venture is his passion project. Angel Investments gives startups a leg up, if Victor deems them worthy. He invests in people who are passionate about giving back to their community, and the whole office has a magical sort of buzz to it.

  It’s exactly the kind of organization I’ve wanted to be a part of.

  “Farrah!” Victor exclaims with arms wide open when I walk in. “Welcome, welcome!”

  I’m introduced to dozens of people and shown to a huge office with big windows facing the Charles River. This is way nicer than my old job. The pay is about double, as well.

  How I got picked for this position, I have no idea. When I sit down behind my new desk, anxiety starts curling in my stomach. Can I do this?

  Then, Victor appears in the doorway. He waves at the room.

  “What do you think?”

  “It’s beautiful. A lot nicer than my place in New York.”

  “Obviously,” he grins. He winks at me and I can’t help laughing. “Listen, Farrah,” he takes a seat across from me and tents his fingers in front of his chest. “I just wanted to say that I’m very glad you’ve decided to join us. When Rachael put your name forward, I knew you’d be the perfect candidate. With your education and your experience, you’re exactly the kind of fresh eyes we need here.”

  “Thank you, Victor. I appreciate that.”

  “I know everything is new, and it’s a big… change,” he clears his throat, breaking eye contact for a moment. “But let me know if you need anything.”

  “Will do.”

  He disappears out the door again and I let out a sigh. It’s no secret that Elijah and I have broken up. I’ve been avoiding the tabloids like the plague. If it isn’t my face and Elijah’s on the cover, it’s Jesse’s. And I can’t look at either of them right now.

  A light knock on the door makes me look up. Rachael smiles at me and pulls out a silver laptop.

  “Here, your work computer. I convinced Jake to let me bring it to you.”

  “Who’s Jake?”

  “The IT guy.”

  “Right. I think I met him.”

  “Scruffy looking, glasses…? The only guy wearing a hoodie instead of a suit?”

  “Yeah, right. There are so many new faces, it’s hard to keep track.”

  “Don’t worry,” she smiles. “Everyone is really nice. And everyone is excited to have you on board.” She puts the laptop down on the desk and I slide it into the dock. I already have a screen, a keyboard, and a mouse here, so when I fire up the laptop it’s all ready to go.

  Rachael comes around and helps me log in, and the wraps her arms around my shoulders.

  “I’m so glad you’re here. On Friday we should go out and celebrate! I can show you a really cool bar down on Charles Street.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “Not too far,” she smiles.

  “You do remember that I don’t drink, right?”

  “Obviously,” she laughs. “But if I remember correctly, you still enjoy a good dance once in a while. And there are lots of men around.” She winks at me, and I roll my eyes.

  “Not sure I’m ready for that.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she says, walking to the door. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just go out and dance.”

  I grin, nodding to her. When I’m alone, I look at my computer screen and take a deep breath. This is the most senior position I’ve ever held, and I’m trying to not let myself be intimidated.

  Soon, another head appears in the doorway and
I’m whisked away for more training.

  The days pass quickly, and before I know it, it’s Friday night. Rachael has somehow enlisted three other people to come out with us after work, and convinced me that my hotel room should be our starting point. Rachael comes in with our coworkers Nina, Jacqueline, and Tania. They’re each holding a bottle of wine and I start laughing.

  “I thought you were supposed to be a serious corporate finance division of a serious philanthropic investment business. Not a bunch of wino’s!”

  Rachael just laughs, shaking her head. “You were mistaken, Farrah.”

  The girls laugh excitedly as Moose comes running into the room. I smile as they all crouch down to greet him. He’ll be here alone until I get back tonight, but at least he’s getting showered with attention now.

  “How are you liking it so far?” Tania says as she rubs Mr. Moose between the ears.

  “I love it,” I answer with a smile. Surrounded by new friends, I feel good. I haven’t thought about Elijah all day, and the thought of going out on the town is exciting.

  I feel free.

  It’s like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I can go out and dance and laugh and not worry about what Elijah will say when I go home. I can make new friends, and talk to other men. I can go out and be happy without worrying about being home by a certain time.

  I don’t have to worry about what he’s doing, or who he’s talking to, or why his phone is locked.

  None of that matters anymore.

  I thought I’d be sad, or upset, but after just over a week apart, all I feel is relief. Rachael catches me as I touch up my makeup and change into my going-out dress. She smiles.

  “How are you feeling?”

  I lift my eyebrows and shrug. “Good,” I say, almost surprised. “I feel really, really good.”

  “Good,” she smiles. “Then you made the right decision.”

  “I’m starting to think so.”

  We go back out and Nina wolf-whistles at me. “Mama you are hot! Where did you get that dress?”