by Katie McCoy
Serious meant I was building a great career, so I wouldn’t have to rely on a man to get by. Serious meant I wasn’t dazzled by Hollywood fame and glamour into making some seriously reckless decisions.
Wow. Serious sounded like a serious buzzkill.
I took the elevator up to the office and hurried to my desk, hoping that no one would notice that I was late. Of course, today was not looking like my lucky day.
The minute I sat down at my desk and switched on my computer, one of my bosses, Chad, popped up outside my cubicle.
“Penny,” he said, resplendent in a mint-green polo shirt, with his blonde hair slicked back. “We’ve been wondering where you were.”
“I’m sorry I’m late,” I told him, even though I beat him to work by several hours four out of five days a week. “I’ll make sure I catch up over lunch.”
“Actually, we wanted to talk to you,” he said, gesturing for me to join him.
My stomach clenched. Already, I knew this wasn’t going to be good.
I followed him into his office to find the rest of the founders of the start-up waiting for me. Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Penny.” Chad gestured for me to take a seat.
“Glad you could make it,” Thad, one of the other bro-bosses, said, his voice holding more than just a touch of sarcasm.
I didn’t bother to respond. I already had a feeling what was happening.
“Thank you for joining us,” Brad—the third of the three—commented.
Yes, my bosses were called Brad, Chad, and Thad.
No, they didn’t have enough sense of humor between them to find it funny.
“We have some bad news, I’m afraid,” Chad said.
I slumped down in my chair, as if making myself smaller would make it possible for me to avoid the inevitable.
“We’re going to have to let you go,” Thad agreed.
“Your work here has been exemplary,” Brad added. “But as a new company, we’re really looking for someone who can take risks.”
“The way we have,” Chad said.
I stared at them. All three of them were trust-fund kids whose terrible business decisions had nearly destroyed their company several times over, and would have run their company into the ground—if it weren’t for my non-risky financial expertise. But of course, they didn’t care about that. They only cared that I wasn’t down for their Friday-night lap-dance club and sushi trips, or their “so dope” sky-diving team-building trips.
Serious Penny strikes again.
“I see,” I said. “Well, I’m happy to stay on until you’ve found someone who meets those expectations—”
“We’ve already found someone,” Chad told me, brightening. “He’s a friend of ours from school and he has some really great ideas on how to better utilize our finances.”
“Is he called Vlad?” I cracked, but they just stared at me blankly.
I was pretty sure I was in the seventh circle of hell. I had worked my ass off for this company—sticking around only because I had believed there would be room for me to grow—that I would have been given some of the credit for keeping them afloat.
Apparently all I was getting was a kick in the ass on my way out the door.
“OK,” I said slowly. “So, I guess I’ll be going then.” I stood.
“We’re grateful for everything you’ve done for us,” Brad said graciously.
“It would have been nice if you had smiled more,” Thad added unnecessarily. “You look really pretty when you smile.”
I wanted to kick him in the teeth.
“I’ll go pack up my desk,” I said, moving towards the door.
“Danielle will get you your severance package,” Chad told me, standing to hold the door for me. “Thank you again for your hard work.”
And that was it.
Twenty minutes later I was standing on the curb with all of my desk packed into one shitty cardboard box, an insulting severance check tucked into my purse and the past several years of my life blown to hell.
I had thought I was doing the right thing by being careful. By being responsible. And all it had gotten me was a boyfriend who had left me for an Instagram model and an employer who had replaced me with his sky-diving buddy.
My phone buzzed. I didn’t recognize the number, but there was no mistaking who had sent it.
First class round trip tickets to London. Your own suite at the best hotels. Unlimited room service. A shopping allowance. All the tea and crumpets you can eat. Come on, Penny. Be my fake girlfriend. I’ll make it worth your while.
Jax was officially crazy. But hey, at least somebody had some use for my brand of serious.
I sighed and started trudging down the sidewalk towards the bakery around the corner. I knew I needed to make a list and plan the next step in my life, but I would plan better with a donut in my mouth. They were out of my favorite chocolate sprinkles, so I made do with two plain glazed instead. I settled at the counter by the window and dug in, but all the sugar in the world couldn’t make me feel any better.
What was I supposed to do now?
I thought about updating my resume and joining the trawl for jobs and shuddered. I was no good at all the small talk and networking you needed to get a job these days. Give me a test and I’d ace it, make me write a cost-cutting proposal and I’d knock your socks off, but ask me to chit-chat to prove I’m going to fit in with your team and I’ll be left standing there stammering like an idiot. Especially in the tech world, where guys only wanted women around as arm candy or glorified nannies.
Was it too early for another donut?
I pulled out my phone again, ready to scan through my contacts list for any friends or colleagues who might know of an opening. But instead, I found myself reading Jax’s text again.
I’ll make it worth your while . . .
Was it crazy that I was tempted? I’d been pulling long hours and all-nighters for years now without a break, and the idea of being pampered, Hollywood-style, definitely had its appeal. An all-expenses-paid vacation in the English countryside—to Jane Austen country, no less—looked a hell of a lot more enticing than hitting the job market right now.
But that was insane. Posing as Jax’s girlfriend? Nobody would buy that for a minute. And even if they did, it would be playing with fire to put myself in the target for his dangerous charm. We’d have to spend a ton of time together, acting like a couple. Late-night dinners and romantic walks. Maybe even kissing for the cameras . . .
I drifted off into a daydream for a moment, thinking about Jax’s lips . . . His muscular arms… The taut torso I’d seen on the covers of every magazine around . . .
Nope.
I snapped out of it. I didn’t have time to waste on silly daydreams. I needed to get serious about my job hunt if I didn’t want to wind up broke and evicted.
Serious.
There it was again, that annoying whisper in my mind.
Serious Penny, with no job, no boyfriend, and no fun in her life, either.
Serious hadn’t got me very far, I thought regretfully. Maybe, just once, I could do something totally crazy instead.
I paused. I couldn’t, could I?
Impulsively, I got down from the counter and shoved my notes back into my bag. Outside on the street, I stuck two fingers in my mouth and whistled for a cab.
“Where to?” the driver asked.
“The Plaza Hotel,” I said, my heart pounding. Fifteen minutes later I was marching myself up to the suite reserved for one Tom Bond.
I stopped outside the door. I wasn’t really going to do this, was I?
Yes. I was.
I knocked, and the door swung open, revealing a surprised-looking Jax.
“I’ll do it,” I told him. “I’ll be your fake girlfriend.”
5
Penny
Two weeks later I was in possession of a brand-new wardrobe, an expensive new haircut, and a makeup bag full of the most luxurious beauty products money could buy. The rent on
my apartment had been paid for the next six months, and my Louis Vuitton suitcases were packed and ready to go.
“This is crazy,” I told my sister Paige, who had stopped by to see me off. “I’m crazy to be doing this, right?”
She was the only person who knew the whole story—that this was all a lie for the paparazzi. Because if anyone could understand faking something for the public, it was Paige, who had to watch her boyfriend pretend to date a dozen other girls on a nationally televised dating show.
Everyone else thought that this was for real, and that Jax had returned to my life after years apart and swept me off my feet. I hated that I couldn’t tell Mia the real story, but because of her job, there were too many risks involved in telling her the truth. She could unintentionally slip up and then the whole thing would be ruined.
“It feels wrong to lie like this,” I told Paige, flopping down on the bed.
“You don’t have to do it,” she responded. “You can call him and tell him that you changed your mind.”
I stared at her. Paige had always been the person in my life encouraging me to step out of my comfort zone—to do something crazy and spontaneous. I had expected to get the “take life by the horns and do it” speech.
“I thought you would be proud of me for doing this,” I commented.
“I am,” she said, patting my arm. “Really, I am. But I also know that it’s really hard to pretend to be in a relationship with someone. Or, in my case, it was hard to pretend that I wasn’t in a relationship. Things have a tendency to get complicated really fast.”
“I know,” I told her. “But this isn’t like you and Dash. I’m going into this with my eyes wide open.”
Paige had been unaware that Dash was the suitor on the reality show she was working on. When they first hooked up, he had just been some guy she met on a plane. She had no idea that they were going to be thrown together for the next several weeks. I knew exactly what the plan was with Jax. There was a timeline, there were rules, there were plans. There weren’t going to be any surprises—as far as our fake relationship went.
“I hope you’re right,” Paige said. “Just be careful.”
“I always am,” I responded.
My phone buzzed and I saw that my ride to the airport was downstairs.
“I should go,” I told her, getting up off the bed.
She did the same and enveloped me in a hug. “Have fun,” she told me. “Spend lots of his money.”
I laughed and grabbed my things.
Two hours later I was on my way to London.
I’d never flown first class before, but I could already tell that going back to economy after all of this would be damn near impossible. From the moment I sat down, I was showered with things. There was a welcome kit with an eye mask and ear plugs, as well as an extra pair of socks, toothbrush, toothpaste, and moisturizer. I was given a piece of delicious chocolate and a glass of champagne as we took off, and the moment the plane reached its cruising altitude the stewardess came by to take my meal orders for the duration of the flight.
“Would you also like a set of complimentary pajamas?” she asked.
I blinked at her. “Pajamas?”
She nodded. “They’re very comfortable.”
I was never one to turn down free comfortable pajamas, so I nodded. A few minutes later she had returned with a pair of cozy flannel jammies.
“We’ll be dimming the lights after dinner,” she said. “It helps to get everyone onto the London time zone so you can avoid being jetlagged.”
After an amazing four-course meal, the lights dimmed, and I snuck into the bathroom to change into what was hands down the most comfortable pair of pajamas I had ever worn. Then again, I usually slept in a pair of raggedy boxer shorts and an old T-shirts, so pretty much anything that matched and didn’t have holes in it was a step up.
I headed back to my seat and found the everyone around me had reclined their seats. And that our seats reclined completely, giving each of us a little bed in our individual first-class pods. I settled into my new bed, unable to believe that this was my life. I was pretty sure that when I woke up, I would be back in my apartment.
But several hours later as the plane began its descent into London, I confirmed, for sure, that this was not a dream. I changed back into my clothes and gathered my things. Waiting for me in baggage claim was a driver holding a sign with my name on it.
My bags were loaded into the town car and we headed to Jax’s hotel in London, where we would be staying for a day or so before heading out to the countryside where they were filming. I was pretty sure my eyes were going to pop out of my head as I stared out the window, trying to take in all of London as it sped by. There was the London Eye, the Shard, the Tower of London, the London Bridge . . . I’d always planned to travel after college, but I’d been so busy working and getting my career on track that I’d never been able to justify the expense. Now, I couldn’t get enough of it.
The driver pulled up in front of a luxurious-looking hotel and helped me out. I immediately felt underdressed for the place, in my plane-wrinkled jeans and sweater. I smoothed them down self-consciously as I headed into the lobby, and found Jax waiting. With a woman.
“You’re here!” he said, sweeping me up into his arms and giving me a big kiss on the cheek. “Welcome to London.”
“Thanks,” I told him, feeling more self-conscious than ever. He looked amazing, of course, in dark-washed jeans and a plan white T-shirt that hugged his torso, and from the swooning looks everyone in the lobby sent in his direction, the ladies of London approved.
I wondered what they thought of me.
“This is Stella,” Jax introduced me to the woman standing with him.
She had a severe gray bob, very Miranda Priestly from The Devil Wears Prada, and just as intimidating. She was giving me a slow once-over. I wiped my palms on my jeans. They were suddenly sweaty.
“I suppose she’ll do,” Stella said, reaching out and shaking my hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Don’t mind her.” Jax put his arm around my waist and led me towards the elevator. “She grows on you.” He grinned. “Like a fungus.”
“Play to your strengths, Jax.” Stella followed us into the elevator, my bags and a bellhop coming with her. “You’re no comedian.”
“I thought I could be whatever I put my mind to,” he teased, obviously mimicking her.
Stella rolled her eyes. “Let’s go to the room, and we can discuss everything.”
The suite was incredible. Just like the one Jax had bragged about in New York, it was enormous, decorated in a chic, understated style, and my entire apartment could have probably fit in the living room section with room to spare.
Jax tipped the bellboy generously. The door had barely been shut behind him before Stella was pulling out a copy of the NDA I had signed.
“OK,” she said, gesturing for me to sit down. “We need to go over who you told and what you told them.”
I sat on the edge of the sofa, feeling like I was being interrogated. Jax lounged next to me, clearly not feeling the same way.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, as if he could read my mind. “She takes a little getting used to, but she’s going to do everything to make sure this works out the way we planned.”
He patted my hand casually, and my pulse kicked.
“This only works if we’re all on the same page,” Stella said.
“It’s going to be fine,” Jax reassured her.
But I felt as skeptical about all of this as Stella looked.
“OK,” she said. “I’m assuming you told your family?”
I nodded. “They all remembered Jax and believed me when I said we ran into each other, and that he invited me to spend some time with him on the set in London after I was fired from my job.”
Stella nodded and made a note. “We’re going to find a way to spin your firing into a good thing,” she said. “Get you set up to find a bigger and better position when yo
u get back to the States. My PR company has plenty of contacts in the tech field.”
“Oh.” I blinked, surprised. “Thanks. That’s really nice of you.”
“It was Jax’s idea,” Stella replied. “In fact, it was a condition of this whole gig.”
I glanced over at Jax, who gave me a smile. “I thought it was the least we could do,” he said.
Considering that he was already paying my rent and promised to treat me like a princess on this trip, getting help with my job search seemed like a more than generous offer.
“What about your friends?” Stella asked. “You know someone who works for FastFeed, right?” She looked down at her paper. “Mina somebody?”
“Mia,” I corrected. “She met Jax at the junket. She was a little suspicious when I told her the news, but in the end I think I managed to convince her that this was all real.”
It hadn’t been easy. Even though I worked the “but you’re always telling me to be more spontaneous” angle, I had been able to tell that Mia wasn’t completely buying it. That was until I told her that I had always had a crush on Jax and was using him as a rebound. She had been completely in favor of that plan.
“Just don’t fall in love with him, OK?” she had made me promise.
“Of course not,” I had said, hoping that she wouldn’t freak out too much when she saw tabloids saying that I was doing that exact thing.
At least I wouldn’t be doing it in real life. And eventually I’d be able to tell her the truth. I hoped.
“Good.” Stella was scribbling things in her notebook. “All of this sounds good.” She looked up. “OK, now we need to go over the plans for the next few days. We’ve tipped off some paparazzi, some local papers, and we’ll be planting blind items in the press during the duration of the shoot. We need you two to make sure that when you’re together in public, you’re attached at the hip. It needs to look like you’re falling in love.” She turned to Jax. “That means no flirting with the other actresses or women on set.”