This Crazy Little Thing (A New Adult Billionaire Romance)

by Tamryn Ward

  “That’s another long story I’d like to avoid right now if I could. Besides, how do you know it’s my fault? How many wishes have you had come true?”

  “I guess it doesn’t matter. Can you un-wish it? I’d like my body back, if you don’t mind. Not that there’s anything wrong with yours.”

  “Thanks. I think. I want my body back too but I don’t know how to make it happen. Heck, for all I know it wasn’t my wish that caused this. And even if it was I don’t know if I can un-wish it. I never expected it to come true. I’ve never had a wish come true before.”

  “Neither have I, but you have to try something. We can’t stay this way forever. You wouldn’t believe how shocked I was to wake up in your sweats, in your apartment…in your body…last week! By the way, we have to do something about that little cave you live in. It’s a dump. And the neighborhood… I won’t even go out to check the mail after nightfall. The only good thing about it is the balcony.”

  “Well, it’s affordable. I don’t have millionaire boyfriends buying me houses in the ‘burbs for Christmas like some people do.”

  “Speaking of my boyfriend, have you heard from Jason?”

  “Yes, you could say that. By the way, I like what you’ve done to my hair. It looks great.”

  Looking very pleased with herself, Monica smoothed the glossy brown hair with her hand. “It does, doesn’t it? I have a fabulous hairdresser. It was quite a trick getting him to take me, since he doesn’t know who I am. But thanks to me you are now a client of the extremely talented Geoff Laroque at the exclusive Laroque Salon in Beverly Hills. He gave me the works last week. You needed it. Good grief girl, when was the last time you had a pedicure? Your toenails were gnarly. I don’t know how you dared show them at all this past summer. Please tell me you didn’t wear sandals or I think I’m going to cry.”

  More dollar signs flashed through Jane’s brain. Bells rang, lights blinked. That infamous cha-ching sound echoed in her head. “How much does the works cost at Laroque Salon?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I put it on your credit card. It went through without a problem. Couldn’t have been too much.”

  “Oh no! What else have you bought? Those clothes look new.”

  “They are. You owned nothing but rags. I couldn’t be seen in public dressed like that. You really should have more respect for yourself than that. You’re young and pretty. What’re you letting yourself go like this for?”

  “I have more respect for myself than you do. You spend every penny you earn and more. I know. I tried to balance your checkbook. You’re drowning in red. And what the hell is Hometown? You’re sending them thousands every month. That’s no way to live, way beyond your means.”

  “Hey! My money matters are personal. I can’t believe you’re snooping.” Monica’s pout looked silly on Jane’s face and if Jane wasn’t so upset about this whole thing she might have found it funny.

  “I’m just trying to help. That’s more than what I can say for you. All you’re doing is putting me in the poorhouse. How much is the car costing me?”

  “I got you a great deal since you have A-plus credit. You got prime rates. The payment’s only three hundred sixty-five.”

  Jane felt sick. Monica was making a mess of her life. Somehow she had to stop her. “Only three hundred sixty-five? I can’t afford that!”

  “Sure you can. You’ve been saving four hundred a month. I saw it on your bank statements.”

  “I’m saving to buy a house. You’re ruining my life! You need to stop spending my money and quit snooping.”

  “I didn’t snoop. Your bank records were sitting right there. And I am not ruining your life. I’m making some much-needed improvements. You, my friend, were stuck in a rut. This is exactly what you needed. Now, what kind of mess are you making of my life?”

  “I’m not making a mess. I’m helping you. Your finances were a disaster, and you weren’t taking care of yourself properly. And Jason—”

  “What about Jason?” she growled. “Tell me you haven’t pissed him off. It isn’t hard to piss him off.”

  “I haven’t. We’re getting along wonderfully. In fact, I’m helping you get him back. That is what you wanted right?”

  Monica jumped up and screeched. “You’re what!” She poked a finger at Jane’s nose. “Don’t you dare touch him! That’s just plain yucky, considering you’re me and…you…you… I can’t believe this!”

  “Then you don’t want him back?”

  “Yes. Of course I do. I might even like to marry him someday. But I don’t want you to get him back for me. I don’t want you laying your hands on him and kissing him—or would that be me touching him? You touching him with my hands? Oh. My head hurts. I can’t think about this right now.” She started pacing back and forth, and despite being frustrated by Monica’s lack of appreciation for what she was trying to do, and her anger for what Monica had done to her bank account and credit, Jane noticed her butt looked pretty darn good in that skirt. It was weird, admiring her own butt.

  “I haven’t touched him…much. Say, have I lost weight?”

  “Five pounds.” Seeming to have forgotten their prior topic, Monica did a little pirouette. “Can you tell?”

  “Yes! My butt looks smaller. And my hips. How’d you do it? I’ve been trying to lose weight for ages.”

  “You were feeding yourself garbage. It’s a wonder you weren’t as big as a barge. I can’t believe what I found in your refrigerator! The processed meats and white bread. And pasta by the bucket. Chips, sweets… What were you trying to do to yourself? Eat yourself to death? And what was with all that ice cream in the freezer? I swear you had more varieties of Ben and Jerry’s in there than Meijers.”

  “That was my emergency stash.”

  “Looks like you were stocked for Armageddon. Please tell me you aren’t polluting my body with all that junk.”

  Jane shrugged and tried not to look guilty. “Not too bad.”

  “Stand up and turn around.”

  Jane stood and turned.

  “Oh God! You are! Look at my butt! It has…” Monica gasped, “…bulges!”

  Jane turned back around. “It does not. Those are called curves and they’re perfectly normal. A woman should have them. If you ask me, you were too skinny. It can’t be healthy being built like a boy…with big boobs.”

  “I wasn’t asking you.” Monica pressed her hands on the stone surface between them and gave Jane a stern look that was obviously meant to intimidate her. “Cut it out with the ice cream!”

  Not in the mood for intimidation tactics, Jane rested her hands directly across from Monica’s and stared her right in the eyes. Staring in one’s own eyes was kind of creepy. “You stop spending my money!”

  “I’ll bet you even ate red meat, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah? Well I’ll bet you’ve maxed out one of my credit cards, haven’t you?”

  “I maxed them both out.”

  Jane gasped. “Both? You bitch! You spent four thousand dollars in one week? Well, I ate a roast beef sandwich, tortilla chips and a quart of Chocolate Therapy and I’m not through eating yet! Hmmm…I think I’m in the mood for pizza today.”

  “Pizza?” Monica screeched. “Don’t you dare!”

  “Or maybe a big, juicy hamburger with extra mayonnaise and a super-sized order of French fries. I’m going to put on a pound for every thousand you spend.”

  Monica leaned closer. “You wouldn’t!”

  Jane leaned so close their noses almost touched. “I would. Want to risk it?” Several heartbeats pounded in her ears before Monica backed away.

  “No. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep my shape?”

  “And do you have any idea how hard it is to keep my credit score?”

  They looked at each other for a moment, their chests heaving, their noses almost touching, their faces twisted in anger and then they started giggling uncontrollably.

  “Truce?” Jane offered, still laughing.

  “Truc
e.”

  They shook hands.

  “This is crazy.” Jane dropped into the chair behind her.

  Monica rested her butt on the desk and nodded. “We both must be insane.”

  “I don’t know how this happened but I’m kind of glad it did,” Jane admitted. “I’ve always been a little bit jealous of you.”

  “Believe it or not, I was always a little jealous of you.”

  Monica envied me? “No? Really? Jealous of what?”

  Monica toyed with the Rolodex, spinning the wheel and making the cards flip over and over. “I don’t know. You seemed to have it together. Your life was maybe a little boring, but it seemed predictable. Safe. Not chaotic like mine was…is. It’s still a mess, isn’t it?”

  Jane nodded. “A little. I honestly don’t see how it got to be so bad. By the way, your car was repossessed. Just thought you should know.”

  “Repossessed? By whom? There isn’t a bank loan.”

  Knowing an outburst was coming, Jane cringed. “By Jason. You didn’t pay your insurance again.”

  Sure enough, Monica jumped up and yelled, “He did? What a jerk! That was my car. He had no right.”

  “I’m very sorry but I checked it out. Legally the car belonged to him and if what he said was true, he had every right.”

  “What? What’d he say?”

  “According to him, he’s paid out two legal settlements for accidents—”

  Monica crossed her arms over her chest, and Jane noticed her cleavage seemed a little…more cleaved. “They were little fender benders.”

  “Did you get me a boob job too?” She pointed at Monica’s chest.

  “Nope. Just a Wonder Bra. They do wonders, don’t they?”

  Jane nodded and stared at Monica’s chest, admiring the way the bra pushed her breasts together and made them look fuller under her white button-down shirt that was unbuttoned one button too many. “I had no idea. Don’t you think you’re showing a little too much? I mean, I don’t want to be known as a slut.”

  “No, I’m not showing too much.” Monica looked down. “And you have nothing to worry about. You’re known as a prude. By the way, I’m curious. Did you go to Catholic school?”

  “Yes.” Jane felt her cheeks heating.

  Monica shook her head. “That explains a lot. Are you still a virgin?”

  Jane gaped at Monica for a moment then stammered, “No, I’m not a virgin.”

  “When was the last time you had sex? You seem rather uptight. Maybe I should—”

  “No way! If I have sex, I’d like to be there to enjoy it, thank you.”

  Monica laughed. “Yeah, I suppose you have a point.”

  “Enough about me and my sex life, okay? We were talking about you and your car situation. Your little fender benders cost Jason thousands of dollars. As long as the car’s in his name, he’s responsible.”

  Monica dropped back in the chair. “He wouldn’t put the car in my name, claimed he couldn’t for some legal reason. Same as the house, since the mortgage is in his name. It won’t go into my name until I either refinance on my own and take his name off the loan, or thirty years from now when the stupid thing’s paid off. You think it’s so great having rich boyfriends give you things. But it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Nothing’s really yours.”

  “The good news is the Honda’s in your name. It’s yours. Free and clear.”

  “Really? How’d you get him to do that? Oh my gosh!” She covered her mouth with her hands and her eyes widened. “You didn’t sleep with him, did you?”

  “No way! That would be a little weird, don’t you think?” I thought about it a few times though.

  “Well, this whole thing is weird. I’ve been showering every morning with my eyes closed so I won’t see anything I shouldn’t, if you know what I mean. It isn’t easy shaving your legs when you’re not looking.”

  “Imagine my pickle. You shaved everywhere.” Jane stifled a giggle. “Needless to say, you’ll have some grooming to do whenever we switch back.”

  “Oh! I forgot about that.” Monica laughed and Jane couldn’t help joining in. “Everyone’ll be getting in soon. Should we work on our assignments together?” Monica asked after they’d both spent all their nervous energy.

  “Yes, that sounds like a good plan.”

  “Good. I guess until we switch back, we’ll be a team. What do you say?”

  “I’d like that.” Jane smiled. For the first time since the switch, she felt at peace with what had happened.

  It seemed that there was more to be gained than what she’d thought in this crazy, mixed-up situation. She sensed she just might get something far more precious than a raise.

  She might end up with a true friend who had literally walked in her shoes.

  Wanting to keep their newfound peace, she didn’t mention the date she had with Jason that weekend. She wasn’t exactly ready to break it to Monica how close she was to getting him back. Until it was a done deal, and there was less risk of it falling apart, she would rather keep it to herself. She didn’t want Monica to get her hopes up.

  But one thing was certain, she wouldn’t sleep with him no matter what. As tempting as it was, it wouldn’t be right. Jason was Monica’s ex-boyfriend. She respected the fact that even though Jason would be sleeping with Monica’s body, he would still be cheating—in a crazy roundabout way. And she knew Jason wouldn’t want to be a cheater.

  That Friday night, as she stood before the closet searching for just the right outfit, she repeated over and over in her head, He’s not mine. It’s Monica he wants. He’s not mine. It’s Monica he wants. And keeping with her vow to herself to keep things under wraps, she chose a dressy pair of pants and a V-necked blouse with long bell sleeves that was feminine but not too sexy.

  Tonight she’d try a different ploy, she’d appeal to his mind rather than his body. Really challenge him, talk to him, listen. He’d learn what a caring, attentive, intelligent person Monica was.

  The doorbell rang and her heart skipped more than a couple of beats as she took a few seconds to do a final mirror check before answering the door.

  She was doing this for Monica, she told herself as she studied Monica’s reflection in the mirror. As long as she remembered that, she’d be okay.

  After working closely with Monica for a week, and literally walking in her shoes, Jane had developed a genuine fondness for her former rival. Now, with a more realistic view of Monica’s life, Jane was eager to fix Monica’s messed-up finances and faltering romantic relationship. It was the least she could do until they switched back, whenever that might happen.

  Monica was doing Jane a few favors as well, including earning her a hefty raise and helping her lose a few more pounds. By the end of the week they both admitted the arrangement was working out far better than either had ever expected, despite their earlier difficulties.

  The doorbell rang again, and Jane rushed to the front door to answer it, finding Jason on the porch with a gorgeous bouquet of flowers in one fist. He grinned, displaying an even row of pearly whites and a cute dimple she hadn’t noticed before on his left cheek, and thrust his arm forward to hand her the flowers.

  Smiling so wide her cheeks ached, she took the bouquet from him and stepped to the side to let him into the house. As he brushed past her, she gazed up into his eyes. “Wow. How sweet. Thank you.” A fly buzzed by her ear, and too busy staring at his dark blue—or where they violet?—eyes, she blindly fanned her hand to shoo the fly away. “They’re absolutely gorgeous.”

  “Are you talking about the flowers?”

  The pesky fly continued buzzing around her head and she waved her hand again, this time making contact but knocking it into her head instead of swatting it away. An angry buzz rattled next to her ear and then she felt a sharp sting. “Ouch!” She dropped the flowers and palmed the spot where the burning was originating. The insect to blame, tangled in her hair, wriggled under her hand. “Oh! Ouch!”

  “What? What?” Jason look
ed alarmed. He sounded alarmed too.

  “I think I was stung by a bee!” Combing her fingers through her hair to free the insect, she ran to the bathroom to take a look in the mirror.

  Instantly, she realized something was wrong. The right side of her face felt funny. Tingly and hot. Her eyelid looked strange, a little puffy, and her lips and tongue were starting to feel funny too. She spun around, finding Jason behind her. “Do I look strange to you?”

  “Strange? Noooo?”

  “Here. My face. Does it look swollen? Should it be doing that?”

  Jason scrutinized her face. “It does look a little swollen.”

  A very alarming thought occurred to her as she explored her face with her fingertips. Something was definitely wrong. “Am I allergic to bees?”

  His eyes wide with worry, he said, “I don’t know. Should I call someone?”

  She turned back around to see if the swelling was getting worse. It was. Her whole right side of her face was getting puffier by the minute. “Yeah. 9-1-1!” Her heart started racing and her hands trembled. “Oh my God, I’m going to kill her.”

  “Her? Who?” Jason punched the buttons on the cordless and said something into the receiver.

  Chapter Seven

  Jane was unable to be still, or give enough attention to what Jason was doing to understand what he was saying. Scared, she paced back and forth. “She can’t die. I didn’t know. How could I have known? Oh God! It was an accident.”

  “The ambulance is on the way.”

  Jane ran to the bathroom again. Her throat felt tight and the skin around her eyes did too. When she looked at her reflection in the mirror, she gasped.

  She looked like someone had pumped up her head with air. Her skin looked stretched to the point of splitting. “It’s getting worse. Oh my God!”

  Jason grabbed her shoulders, practically dragged her away from the mirror, and steered her toward the couch. “Sit down before you run into something and give yourself a concussion.”

  “But I can’t swallow. And it sounds funny when I talk. Anaphylaxis.” That wasn’t easy to say with lips like over-inflated bicycle inner tubes.