The Funny Thing about Love: Feel Good Sweet Romance stories

by Laura Burton

  “So, are we going to talk about last night?” Thatcher asked gently, walking over. Holly buried her face in her pillow and shut her eyes. The problem was, she couldn’t close her mind’s eye. And all it could see was William kissing another woman.

  “Come on, it’s not as bad as you think,” Thatcher said. Holly sat up and stared at him with shock.

  “You’re not serious,” she said. “You were there, right? You saw what happened. I thought you of all people would understand why I’m devastated.”

  Thatcher scratched his cheek and shrugged.

  “Ah, but you did your typical move.”

  Holly frowned at him.

  “What?”

  “You just took off. That’s what you do, isn’t it? Run away when things get tough.”

  Holly considered throwing a pillow at his head just as Josie walked into the room. She froze with the pillow in her hands, primed to collide with Thatcher’s head.

  “Hear him out, Holly. Thatcher has news,” Josie said.

  News? Curiosity got the better of Holly, so she placed the pillow back on the bed. The move seemed to satisfy Thatcher; he cleared his throat as Josie joined them on the bed.

  “When you left, everything went crazy. Emily demanded an emergency meeting with the producers, and they disappeared into a room for hours. Meanwhile, the guests got more and more drunk and things got out of hand.”

  Thatcher stopped and looked at Holly, as if hoping for a reaction, but she remained frozen, slowly taking in the information.

  “I was talking to the camera guys and none of us knew what to do. William and Estelle had a full-blown argument in front of everyone, and then they both left. I didn’t even see the girl he had been kissing. It’s like she just vanished.”

  Holly shot Thatcher a suspicious look.

  “Did you know Estelle is William’s mom?”

  Thatcher frowned.

  “No. But… that suddenly makes a lot of sense.”

  He shook his head, and sighed. “Anyway,” he continued, clasping his hands. “Emily came out and told everyone to go home. Rumor has it, they’ve cancelled the show.”

  Holly’s heart leapt. At least her humiliation would not be broadcasted to the world.

  “So, just like that, it’s over?” she asked. Thatcher shrugged.

  “That’s show business for you. These things happen all the time.”

  “Tell her the news, Thatcher!” Josie urged, nudging Thatcher’s arm. Holly crossed her legs and rubbed the back of her neck.

  “There’s more?” she asked. Her mind was already reeling.

  Thatcher nodded excitedly.

  “I’ve been speaking with Estelle about Paris. How would you like to take part in Fashion Week?”

  Holly jumped up to her feet, and the sudden movement nearly sent Josie flying off the bed.

  “What?!”

  Thatcher chuckled. Josie got up too and grabbed Holly’s hands.

  “Let’s all go to Paris together! It’ll be an adventure.”

  Holly couldn’t stop herself from squealing as the three of them bounced on the bed together.

  “We’re going to Paris!” Holly shouted to the ceiling. Then the three of them laughed.

  Paris would be a great move, Holly thought. She’d get away from the embarrassment, forget about William and wipe the slate clean. And she wouldn’t be left behind.

  She only needed to make sure she didn’t fall flat on her face on the catwalk.

  Chapter 14

  Fashion Week arrived, and Holly was ready. With the help of her friends, she had performed several hundred catwalks along the cobbled path outside their maisonette. She figured if she could keep upright on cobbled stones, a smooth stage would be a piece of cake.

  Paris was beautiful. The air was cleaner, and there was a constant aroma of good food.

  Even though Holly had no idea what everyone was saying, she couldn’t help but walk around the streets of Paris soaking up all of its culture. The babble of talk and string music was a symphony she would never tire of.

  She was on top of the world, and William could not have been further from her mind.

  At least, that was what she told Josie and Thatcher. To them, he was nothing but a guy she went out with a couple of times. But when the lights were out and she was in her narrow bed, covered in scratchy blankets, the only thing to occupy her mind was William. He invaded her dreams. The echo of his laugh haunted her mind whenever she did something funny, and her hands felt empty without William to hold.

  It was nonsensical to think about this guy. They had spent so little time together. There was still so much about him that was a mystery. And yet, something about him felt so familiar. Like they had known each other for a lifetime but had their memories wiped. Knowing that his mother was a world class fashion icon made her understand why he didn’t date models. Maybe Holly really was all wrong for him. She tried to convince herself it was all for the best, but as she waited backstage to go out on her very first catwalk, William’s face flooded her mind.

  “Time to go.” One of the staff gave her a little push. Holly took a breath, put on a blank face, and walked out onto the catwalk.

  Don’t fall. Don’t fall. Don’t fall. Don’t fall.

  The lights were dazzling, and Holly’s eyes began to water as she stubbornly resisted the urge to look down. All eyes were on her, and the music thumped so loudly she wondered if her eardrums were going to burst. Her heart picked up on the rhythm and followed the beat. Every cell in her body was trembling. She had never felt so exhilarated, so empowered. Yet, there was a small part of her that wanted to run away. She ignored the voice in her head telling her she was going to mess this up, and she walked the whole show without so much as rolling an ankle.

  On the last walk, she returned to the back of the stage and almost screamed at the sight of the last person she expected to see.

  It was William Harrington, flashing his pearly whites and carrying a huge bunch of red roses.

  “You’re here?” she blurted. Her knees grew weak, threatening to buckle. She grabbed the partition wall to keep her balance and kicked her shoes off. “Why are you here?” she said as she joined William. The other models continued to undress and change without batting an eyelid at William. He appeared unfazed by all of the half-naked bodies. His eyes were focused on Holly.

  “I needed to see you,” he said, finally. He handed her the flowers. “There’s been a huge misunderstanding, and I’m very sorry about that.”

  Like a bullet to the heart, Holly remembered what had happened at the party. She looked down.

  “It’s okay. It is what it is,” she said, shrugging. “The show wanted drama, and I was never supposed to be in it anyway. I guess you just wanted to put on a good show, setting me up like that.”

  William put a finger under Holly’s chin and tipped her head back. She bit her lip, looked into his sky blue eyes and lost herself in them.

  “That’s not what happened,” he said firmly. “Cindy kissed me. Out of nowhere. I pushed her away and I saw you running away.”

  “I wasn’t running,” Holly said defensively. “There wasn’t a reason for me to stay.”

  “Is that why you came to Paris?” William asked, taking a step closer. His body heat radiated to her. Holly swallowed.

  “I know who your mom is, now. I didn’t at first. But now I know why you don’t date models.”

  William searched her eyes with his brows furrowed and gave her an odd look.

  “Do you want to know why I don’t date models?” he asked. “Because they only want to get close to my mom.” He spoke quietly but not quietly enough, as several of the models in the room shot him dark looks.

  “Not you though. I love that you don’t take yourself too seriously. You’re happy to be yourself. To be playful. You’re authentic and funny, and warm.” William’s face turned red as he seemed to realize he was rambling. Holly grinned.

  “So, you don’t want to be with… Cindy? Wo
w. Is that her name? All this time I’ve called her ninety-four percent.” William brushed Holly’s hair aside and caressed her cheek lovingly.

  “No,” he said softly.

  “What about the compatibility score? We’re terrible for each other.”

  “Who cares about a stupid score?” William countered. Holly chewed her lip.

  “You don’t even know me. I could be a serial killer. Or an alien from Mars. Or someone who likes pineapple on their pizza.” It was Holly’s turn to ramble. William grinned, his eyes twinkling.

  “I’ll take my chances… if you’ll have me?”

  Holly glanced to the side and noticed the other models had all stopped what they were doing and were now staring at the two of them. Then she grinned and looked back at William. His hands slid around her lower back as she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “So, will you be my girlfriend?” he asked. Holly shushed him and leaned in.

  Her lips grazed his and her heart fluttered. He clutched her back and moaned as if he was taking in air for the first time. Holly closed her eyes and fell deeper into the kiss. It was like coming home after a long trip. His nose nuzzled hers and his lips sent tingles all over Holly’s body.

  In that moment, she knew everything she needed to know. It didn’t matter whether she was in Paris or New York. As long as she was with William, she was home.

  And even though it was early days, she knew they’d end up together, forever. Because despite what any matchmaker might think, he was her perfect match.

  And she was never going to let him go.

  Epilogue

  Emily Stewart was sitting in her office, poring over paperwork, when her assistant walked in.

  “This came in the mail.” She held up a wedding invitation. Emily beamed and reached out to take it.

  “This is the best part of my job!” she said with a contented sigh. She ripped open the invitation and gasped at the happy couple pictured on the card.

  “Well look at that. Holly and William are getting married!” she said, holding it up for her assistant to see.

  “You know, these two have seriously forced me to up my matchmaking game. Finding a match isn’t always about compatibility, you know.”

  She tapped the picture with her fingernail and hummed to herself in thought. So, the Billionaire Bachelor show was a bust. But she couldn’t allow the ridiculous charade to continue. The producers had wanted to spin a scandalous story, portraying Find My Companion as a dishonest, drama-loving business with no care for anyone’s feelings. The show would have ruined her reputation.

  Not on my watch.

  “Ms. Stewart, I have a Harold Jackson waiting to see you,” her assistant said.

  “Oh. Send him in,” Emily said. She watched her assistant leave the room, deep in thought. After seeing how things worked out for Holly and William, she promised herself that from now on she was going to be more open-minded. Who cares if he’s a billionaire and she’s a single mom working two jobs to pay the bills?

  Does is really matter where they’re from? Or their dress size?

  No. She was going to try a different approach and look deeper into it. Holly and William, it turned out, were like two peas in a pod. Their biggest common interest: comedy. And because they made each other laugh, nothing else mattered.

  The office door opened, and Emily rose to her feet. A tall, handsome man strolled in and gave her a sheepish smile.

  “Hello Harold, I’m Emily Stewart. And I’ll be your matchmaker.”

  “Thanks for seeing me on such short notice,” Harold said as they shook hands. They took their seats and Emily surveyed him carefully. He had dark blonde hair, deep brooding eyes and a sweetness to him that she couldn’t put her finger on.

  “So, tell me why you need a matchmaker?” she asked.

  Harold’s face turned crimson and he flashed his teeth at her.

  “I work in the movie business, and I work with a lot of people who are––”

  “Fake?” Emily finished for him. Harold nodded.

  “I’m not the most outspoken person in the room. And I’m looking for someone who doesn’t want to be in the limelight. Someone sweet and kind. And I really don’t care about anything else. Can you help me?”

  Emily’s smile broadened as she rested her hands on the desk and thought about it.

  “Funny you should say that. I think I know the perfect woman. Make yourself available tonight, I’m setting you up on a date.” She lifted her phone, a sense of excitement swirling in her midriff. Harold’s brows shot up.

  “Today? You’re going to set me up with the girl of my dreams today?”

  “Why not?” Emily said with a shrug. Then she turned to look out of the window and cast her eyes over the city. “After all, it’s a beautiful day to fall in love!”

  THE END

  Read about Harold Jackson and Julie Andrews in Who Wants to Love a Billionaire? Book 1 in the Billionaires in New York Series here: mybook.to/loveabillionaire

  A Match for the Marine by Jess Mastorakos

  Dex

  “Sweetheart,” my mom said, placing a warm hand on my cheek, “you look so grumpy. Smile, will you?”

  I raised a brow at her. “This is just my face, Mom.”

  She rolled her eyes and went back to her magazine, and I stared at the exposed cherrywood beams in the white ceiling. This was, by far, the most embarrassing thing she’d ever made me do. And the list of embarrassing things was long with my mother. I shifted on the uncomfortable leather sofa. It was probably supposed to be a trendy addition to the waiting room, but it was terrible to sit on.

  “Mrs. Harrington?” called a blonde woman in a pink suit.

  My mom nodded and tossed the magazine on the coffee table before us and patted me on the knee. “This is going to be fun.”

  I stifled a groan and followed the woman and my mother from the waiting room and into the bustling office space. As was my habit whenever I stepped into a new environment, I studied my surroundings with a watchful eye. Glass walls separated the large office suites from the main room. The floor-to-ceiling windows in each suite provided great natural light throughout the space.

  In the main bullpen, there were cafe tables, couches, and other lounge furniture that looked like it was made for collaboration. Men and women in fashionable business attire sat with their heads bent together—peering at laptop screens and tablets, handing files or eight-by-ten photos to each other—and looking good doing it. It was like the company only hired attractive people, as a rule.

  As a gunnery sergeant in the Marines, it was like a pink-and-gold version of our shop. It was a space for teamwork and brainstorming. Rest and relaxation in the midst of constant focus on the task at hand. I recognized the air of camaraderie that the leadership of this company clearly tried to instill in the employees. They seemed to be working hard, and maybe even having fun, at their jobs. That is, if you could really call meddling in other people’s love lives a “job.”

  The woman in the pink suit led us through the large glass door of what appeared to be the boss’s office. It was at the end of the rectangular space, and with the walls being glass and the desk facing the bullpen, it appeared that this woman wanted to keep a sharp eye on her operation. I appreciated that in a leader.

  “Mrs. Harrington,” the beautiful older woman greeted my mother, coming around from behind her desk and extending her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you, I’m Julia. Welcome to First Comes Love. And you must be her handsome son, Dexter.”

  I smiled and shook her hand. “Call me Dex.”

  “Oh, I will,” she replied. “Great handshake. Very firm. Please, have a seat.”

  “Thank you.” I cast a look at my mother as we sat in the velvet chairs in front of Julia’s desk. She owed me. Big-time.

  “Now,” Julia said, getting comfortable in her regal desk chair, “Dex, your mother has told me a little about you. But I would love to hear more in your own words. So, I’m going to
ask you a few questions to get to know you better.”

  I shifted in my seat and glanced at my mother again, wondering what she might have told this woman. “Okay.”

  “Are you nervous? You look nervous. I won’t bite. I promise.” Julia winked.

  “I’m fine,” I replied.

  “Right, well, let’s start with something easy. Imagine you’re sitting next to someone on an airplane. You’re by the window, they’re on the aisle.”

  “Okay.”

  “They fall asleep, but you have to pee. Do you wake them up or do you try to shimmy around them?”

  I tilt my head. “I hold it.”

  “It’s a long flight.”

  “Ma’am, Marines don’t get potty breaks whenever we want. I’m used to it.”

  Julia’s lips turned down and she nodded, writing something on the paper in front of her. “Got it. Now, what do you irrationally hate?”

  “Spinach.”

  “Couldn’t tell from those biceps,” Julia smirked. “What quality do you value most in a friendship?”

  “Loyalty.”

  She jotted it down. “No surprise there, Marine. What historical time period would you most like to visit?”

  “Ma’am, can I ask what this has to do with anything? These questions, I mean. They seem a little ... irrelevant.”

  Julia put down her pen. “I know you’re used to being in charge, and you seem like the kind of guy who needs everything to make sense. But go with me on this. I’m the expert in love. You’re the guy whose mom is hiring me to find love for you. Let me drive. Okay?”

  I swallowed. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Now, what historical time period would you like to visit?”

  “I’d go back to November of 1775 when the Marine Corps was founded in a tavern in Pennsylvania.”

  “Lots of team spirit, huh?” Julia asked.

  “When you’ve been in as long as I have, that stuff becomes more interesting.”