Rent-a-Boyfriend

by Celia Fay

  Celia Fay

  Rent-a-Boyfriend

  Book 2 of The Glendale Boys series

  About the book

  Enter the world of Jackson Huang-Worcester.

  Fresh out of college, he went straight into the corporate world. When his family hints at an arranged marriage, he goes with the only logical plan: hire a guy and pretend to be gay.

  Jackson soon understands, though, that he doesn’t have to pretend.

  It might not be that logical. But then again, love isn’t logical…

  Praise for Rent-a-Boyfriend:

  - Another lovely read from the The Glendale Boys series, can read as a stand-alone. A short y/a story with a speedy pace...Kai gives the story light and glitter. Also friends from #1 we meet again. It's a light story with lovely personalities. Solid written and entertaining. I read somewhere #3 will give Luke and Kris from #1 a HEA.... Can't wait!

  - Though this is a shorter story, it’s filled completely with everything that makes a terrific book. Unexpected attraction in a make believe situation, romantically charged scenes, fighting for a relationship and ultimately a lovely HEA. Loved the characters. The more opposite they were, the more it made for great reading. Kai was simply spectacular. Definitely a five star rating!

  - I was pleasantly surprised at the way in which the author managed to create a precise insight into how each 'date' made both characters feel, fuelling their growth as people in love.

  BOOKS BY CELIA FAY

  The Glendale Boys

  MM romance novellas:

  - Laws of Attraction

  - Rent-a-Boyfriend

  - Take the Chance (February 2018)

  - The Honest Change (in All You Need is Love boxset, TBR Feb 2018)

  Crystal Joy

  erotic short stories:

  - Spicy Math

  - Baby Sugar

  - Spicy-Sweet Firework

  Billionaires with Heart

  MF contemporary romance novellas:

  - His Smoking Gun

  - The Awkward Billionaire (in Love Me Hard boxset, TBR Feb 2018)

   Copyright 2018 by Celia Fay - All rights reserved.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Table of Contents

  BOOKS BY CELIA FAY

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Chapter 1

  Bipolar Worcester Heir Throws Hissy Fit and Abuses Employee.

  That’s going to be the headline for tomorrow’s news. Or at least the topic of the hushed whispers going through the office later today.

  “Get the fuck out!” I bellow at the incompetent project manager.

  He mumbles something and escapes. The door shuts quickly, effectively blocking the plastic mug I throw. It bounces and rolls on the carpeted floor. That bastard got lucky.

  Alone at last, I collapse into my seat and spin around aimlessly. It’s a typical executive chair, with nice leather cushions and wheels. The chair and window view of this corner office are the only real benefits to this damn position.

  I don’t think I’ve been in a not-bad mood ever since my father won custody at the end of high school and I went from Jackson Huang to Jackson Huang-Worcester. (The hyphen is a compromise.)

  Getting into upper middle management right after college graduation and having more money than I need is nice. Having people respect me – to my face, at least – and having power over other people is cool, too.

  But everything after that is like straight out of a stereotypical billionaire story. I was forced to give up my dreams, and go through the training and grooming to inherit a company I don’t care about. (I don’t slack off with my work, though. I know people’s livelihoods depend on the company. And I care about them, even if they annoy me on a daily basis.)

  And sooner or later, I’m going to get forced to marry the daughter of another CEO or something.

  Wait, I probably shouldn’t use the word “forced.” The paparazzi might somehow read my mind and cause a shit storm in the media. Arranged marriages aren’t exactly mainstream these days.

  On some level, I guess Mr. Worcester has been trying to make things up to me. But I refuse to make things easy for him. Call me petty or bitter. But I don’t think I can ever forgive him for casually announcing to my mom that he has two kids with another woman.

  Heaving a dramatic sigh, I continue twirling around on the chair. Thank god for this spinny thing. Otherwise, I’d probably have gone crazy a long time ago.

  My personal phone rings.

  The world keeps spinning, even when I stop. Putting a hand on the table, I roll myself back into position like a drunk.

  “Yeah,” I greet the caller unceremoniously.

  “Jackson!” A voice booms in my ear. “Hurry the fuck over here!” I feel awkward in this upscale restaurant by myself!”

  “Fuck, fuck, okay!”

  Ending the call, grabbing my keys and pushing my dizzy body up at the same time, I also call my secretary. “Cancel whatever else I have today,” I order.

  “All you have is the dinner with Mark. You’ve canceled everything else. Did you forg – ”

  “Yeah, okay, thanks, bye.”

  I end that call in a huff. Yes, I’m a horrible friend for completely forgetting that I’m finally going to see my high school friend after forever. And I don’t need old Lee to remind me about it.

  Ten minutes later, I’m striding to the table I’ve booked. The man already there sets the menu down purposefully and props his elbows onto the table. Resting his chin on his interlocked hands, he glances coolly at me.

  “You’re late,” he intones.

  I throw myself into the seat across from him. “You look like a principal. Stop it,” I mutter.

  Mark’s stern features melt into a pout. “I can’t believe you forgot about me,” he whines dramatically. I pretend to throw a fork at him, but it doesn’t stop him. “Why are we even at this fancy place? Trying to show off how rich you are now, huh?” he jests.

  “It’s the closest restaurant to the office,” I explain. “I thought I would get here on time.”

  “You thought.”

  “I’m sorry,” I cave in and whine.

  He grins. “That’s more like it. Didn’t you miss me?”

  “It’s only been a three month vacation and you, like, video messaged me every other day.” I try to act nonchalant these days. I’m supposed to be professional and business-like. “I can’t believe you’ve gotten even uglier in real life.”

  The waitress comes over just as Mark is about to make a witty comeback. He lets me order for him, so I just get a bunch of stuff for a family style dinner, as usual.

  “You know, you’ve changed,” Mark suddenly says after the waitress leaves.

  The entire atmosphere changes. I try to ignore it. “You’re not even drunk yet. Stop getting deep.”

  “And you can stop denying the problem,” he says firmly. “I’ve known you since forever and we talk practically every day. But you’ve still changed so much that I don’t even know…”

  “You know why.” I grab a piece of appetizer bread and rip it apart.

  “Yeah, you hate your dad and everything.” His 180 degree change in tone wit
hin thirty seconds makes me glance up to him, mouth still full of bread. “And I have the best solution to your misery!”

  “What…”

  The waitress comes in, interrupting once again. She places two dishes that I don’t remember ordering, but I probably did.

  Mark waits for a full ten seconds after she leaves to tell me, “I helped you place a boyfriend-search ad.”

  I choke on air. He walks over and pats me on the back like the fucking good friend he is.

  “You what?!” I finally gasp out.

  Seeing that I’m not going to die, Mark goes back to his seat. “I helped you place a – ”

  “No, no, no.” I stare into his eyes. And realize with dread that he’s being serious. “I have a girl who I’m basically engaged to already. I don’t need to find a girlfriend.”

  “Oh, please. You don’t even know her name, do you?” Mark asks. “And who said anything about finding a girlfriend?”

  “You said a boyfriend-search…”

  “Yeah. You’re the one looking for a boyfriend.”

  I choke on air again.

  Mark doesn’t come over to pat me on the back and help me through my shock this time. He just sits there, laughing as I sputter and gasp.

  When I can finally breathe again, all I can do is stare at him. Glare at him in disbelief. “Say that again. Wait, no. Don’t say anything.”

  Of course, he continues to say things that I don’t have enough brain power to react to. “You’re always complaining about how your dad is forcing this girl or that girl onto you. And that you don’t even want to inherit the company. What better way to piss him off than coming out of the closet and bringing a guy to some important dinner event?”

  “Did you ever think about the consequences?” I sputter. “And that I might not agree to this?”

  Mark gives me an innocent smile as he spears a potato with a steak knife. “Yeah, but you always give in to my dumb ideas, right?”

  I try to protest, but he’s right. No matter what he proposes, I always go with it in the end. It’s not a fact that I’m proud of, but I guess best friends means bad choices. But…

  “You’re putting my life on the line,” I exclaim. “What if the media gets wind of this?”

  He shrugs it off. “Then your dad will be disappointed and ashamed and you’ll be free.” He gives me the equivalent of a reassuring pat on the back while still sitting on the other side of the table. I don’t feel reassured. “Okay, I admit that running the ad was a spur of the moment decision. But no matter what happens, it won’t be the end of the world.”

  I do my best to control my emotions. Otherwise tomorrow’s headline would be: Bipolar Worcester Heir Murders Best Friend at Dinner.

  “Okay…” I draw the word out. “What exactly did you say in the ad? And why is it in the newspaper? Does anyone still read the paper? And just, why?”

  “Too many questions, Jackie,” Mark whines. He seemed to be the more mature one in high school, but five years later, it’s the opposite. I guess I really have changed a lot. Or maybe it’s because he’s a kindergarten teacher, while I’m just… a sad adult.

  “But let’s see…” he continues. “I didn’t put your name or even a picture. I just said that someone’s looking to rent a boyfriend. There won’t be any forced interactions – just good acting for good money.” He gives me a look. “You’re rich enough to pay a couple thousand per month, right?”

  I nod tersely. Per month? How many months is he planning for this to last?

  “It’s in the newspaper because no one except special people read it. And why? Come on, Jackson. Even if you don’t want to piss off your dad, you still need a someone.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Amber will tell you that aromantics exist.”

  Mark dumps a pile of vegetables onto my plate. “Eat. And yeah, but you aren’t an aromantic. You’re a generically good-looking guy who is aching for love.”

  Obediently, I take in a mouthful of greens. “What the fuck do you mean by generic?” I ask, slightly offended.

  “You know. The typical attractive guy. Nice sharp features, gelled up dark hair, dark eyes, pretty tall, some muscles… The poster boy for attractiveness.”

  I snort. All his words are praises, but why don’t I feel complimented? “And who’s an ungeneric attractive guy?” I jest.

  He chews thoughtfully. “I don’t think ungeneric is a word. But clearly the answer is me.”

  I examine him closely. With luscious black hair hiding light blue eyes and impossibly pale skin, all I can say is, “You look like a manga character.”

  “Girls love that.”

  “Yeah, weaboos probably,” I deadpan. “But in all honesty, if I need someone to pretend to be my gay boyfriend, why ain’t it you?” I glance at him with imploring eyes.

  Mark laughs. “Don’t tell me you’ve been secretly in love with me since we hit puberty.”

  The reply has me actually flinging a lettuce leaf at him. It lands in the middle of his steak. “Okay, rude,” he comments dryly. “But you agree with the idea, right?”

  I grumble and groan. We haven’t touched the wine I ordered, but I must be drunk already. It’s been a long week and (un)surprisingly, pretending to date a stranger suddenly sounds interesting.

  “Great!” Mark cheers. “I have some candidates. Once I decide on the lucky guy, we can actually start planning the next step. And emergency plans.”

  “Wait, you’re choosing for me?” I yelp.

  “Have you ever heard of getting to choose your partner for a blind date?” Mark asks, as if it’s the stupidest question ever.

  “Oh god, I’m unfriending you after this,” I groan. “I’m disowning you. I need a new friend.”

  “If that’s the case, you need a new brain too.”

  “Okay, I’m done with you. Change the subject.”

  The waitress returns to clear the table. I don’t even remember when we finished the main course, but the dishes are replaced with dessert.

  “Well, Luke and Kris broke up,” Mark reports.

  “What?” My mouth drops open. He just keeps dropping the bomb today, one after another.

  “Yeah. Luke is going to Europe for some research thing. So they decided that they’ll just break up. But they made the promise that if they ever meet again, they’ll still be friends. Or even lovers.”

  I muse over that. They were such an unlikely couple, but I also can’t imagine them apart. “That sounds really dramatic and extra.”

  “Which is totally them.”

  I make a sound in agreement. “But how come I never know about this stuff?”

  Mark gives me the disapproving look that mothers give before a lecture. I brace myself. “Because you rarely join the bi-weekly virtual bonding sessions anymore. Even though it was your idea in the first place.”

  His words hit me harder than usual, even though his tone is light. “You’re right,” I mumble. “I don’t know how I turned into… this.”

  Mark cracks a grin. “That’s why you need a boyfriend!” he sing-songs, dispelling the fleeting tense mood.

  “No,” I groan. “We’re not talking about that again. Fuck you.”

  When I get home two hours later, the building is quiet. A maid bows slightly when she sees me, but doesn’t say anything.

  My father requires my half-siblings and I to live in the mansion. No one protests his rule, but the building is usually empty. Not sure why they avoid the house like a plague. I’m technically the outsider, but I’m here the most often.

  Heading towards the stairs to my sanctuary, I pass the living room and-

  “Jackson, you’re home!”

  -And surprise, surprise, my father is here. Groaning inwardly, I drag myself back to the living room. He’s there with his wife and my half-sister Jennie. All my other siblings look like my father – sandy hair, green eyes and a generous helping of freckles. I look like a black and white picture next to them.

  “Hi Dad and Jennie. And Li
sa,” I greet the trio stiffly.

  “Jackson,” my father says, sitting in an imposing posture even though he’s wearing a ratty old tee. “You’re just in time. I was just telling Jennie about a dinner with the Fiscones.”

  “The paper suppliers?”

  “Yes. They’ll be crucial partners if we want to venture into the publishing and printing industry. It’ll be a business event of sorts, of course, but it’s for socializing too.” I suck in a deep breath and hold it there. “Rose, their daughter, will also be present.”

  “I heard she’s a looker!” Lisa butts in. Jennie snickers in the background.

  Counting to ten, I slowly let the air out through my nose. “When is this happening?” I finally ask.

  My father looks delighted that I’m showing interest for once. “It’s next Saturday.”

  After excusing myself and finally getting to my room, I send Mark a panicked text.

  Make sure I have a fake boyfriend by next Saturday.

  Chapter 2

  Mark is a thoughtful friend and an efficient worker. He also takes things literally because he thinks it’s funny. Which is why I find myself blindfolded after work the next day.

  “If you fucking lead me into a ditch, I swear…” I threaten under my breath.

  My best friend giggles and squeezes my hand that he’s holding. “Trust me,” he coos. “I’m an expert at organizing blind dates. Just ask Amber.”

  “I’m walking blindfolded in the middle of goddamn downtown. People are going to think you’re kidnapping me.”

  In reply, Mark puts a hand over my mouth. I wish I can tell him that doing so isn’t helping with the kidnapping scenario. “Shut up and start thinking about what to say to Kai later.”

  Ah, yes. Kai.

  That’s the name of my new boyfriend. He’s Japanese, very gay and apparently my dad will like him until he finds out that we’re dating. I guess that means he’s attractive and polite with a sense of humor. But probably unemployed with no future. And will definitely not be producing babies or an heir of any sort.