Faking It with the Billionaire Next Door: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romantic Comedy

by Jolie Day

  “Do you happen to know where the previous tenant moved to?”

  “Can’t help you there, son.” He nodded his head to me before closing the door again.

  I stood, unable to move.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  I couldn’t believe it.

  She was gone.

  She’d left, but for real.

  Not gonna lie, things couldn’t be worse.

  I stood in the hallway, stunned into silence and rendered useless for a few seconds.

  Where had she gone?

  Had she found a new place? Duh. Obviously. Where? Hotel? Apartment? Or did she leave to sleep on her friend’s couch?

  My head hurting, I walked back into my place. It was dead quiet—quieter than it’d ever been.

  Missing Rose’s presence and the tickly sensation of the cat, I reached for my phone.

  I dialed Rose’s number, hoping that she’d answer and tell me where the hell she was. It didn’t go through. It didn’t even ring.

  Fuck.

  She must’ve changed her number.

  Or blocked me.

  Blocked me?

  No. Don’t be ridiculous.

  I felt the loneliness settle down on me, dark, and bleak, the ceiling lowering on me.

  She’d always wanted a family, and turned out, she and little Muffin have become mine.

  And now, they were gone.

  She’d asked not to try to find her. How could I not? I didn’t want to leave her and Daisy alone, not even for a few days. But it looked like I had no other choice. Maybe just a little while—two days max. One day max.

  No. Fuck that shit.

  Not a second longer. I had to know where she was.

  I couldn’t fucking wait any longer to convince her that she belonged in my arms.

  Forever.

  42

  MILES

  That same evening, I got the company’s PI on it. Told him to stop what he was working on and focus solely on this. After talking to him, I was supposed to meet up with the guys for drinks. I pulled up at Swayze’s and handed my car keys over to the valet.

  As I strode in, nodding to the bouncer and to Sadie, I considered the thought that Rose could be here. I’d seen her here six months ago, just before the deal started. I remembered that night. She’d looked so gorgeous in that green outfit. It was the first time I’d felt jealous about her talking to that loser. If I saw that today, I’d probably walk over and try to get involved in the conversation, just to be annoying if nothing else.

  The guys were sitting in the corner lounge with a few of our friends.

  When I arrived, they all held up their drinks.

  “Look who’s in the house!” “Finally!” “Boys! He’s here now.” “Happy Birthday, Miles!” “Get the man a drink!” they shouted in unison. Well shit, I hadn’t realized this would be a birthday party. Oliver stood and handed me a beer, before giving me a good slap on the back. “Happy birthday, bro. Let the shenanigans begin!” I smiled and nodded at everyone, thanking them, while shots were passed around. I took a seat beside Damon.

  “Man, where’s Rose?” he asked me.

  “Not here.” It was all I could manage to say at this point.

  After just finding out that she was gone and I didn’t know where to find her, I needed a few drinks before I could delve into that conversation with him or Oliver. Luckily, Damon could read a person well enough to know when to drop it, and he changed the subject.

  A few drinks later and one drunken speech by Oliver down, I began to feel better. I had Rose on my mind, but I hadn’t gotten a message from the PI yet. Shit, I was as impatient as a rookie about to start the season.

  “So, what happened, man?” Damon asked next to me, just low enough not to catch the attention of the others. “She gone?”

  I was unsure how he knew. I hadn’t mentioned to him or Oliver that Rose had left. “Shit’s fucked up.”

  “It’s written all over your face,” he said. “I know today’s the end of your deal with Rose. Did you tell her how you feel?”

  “Nah.” I shook my head.

  “Shit.”

  “She left before I could. She told me in a letter that she’s in love with me, but that she needed space and time to think. She told me to leave her alone.”

  Damon gave me a mildly surprised look. “I’m sorry, man. What are you going to do about it?”

  “Find her and get her back,” I replied.

  “Good,” he said and clapped me on the shoulder. “Looks like she’s the one.”

  “She is. She makes it worth it. Did you know she actually asked me to take her out on my bike every chance she got? She really wanted to know what I liked to do and then she liked doing more of it. She touched my heart. Somehow, she understood my past and all. She took some of the fucking pain away and made me want to love again. It’s like she opened the door to a fucking prison that I was in and that I didn’t even know I was in. Sorry, bro, I can’t explain it any better.”

  Damon grabbed his drink. “Sounds good to me, brother. That’s what I imagine love should be like. Raising each other up. Giving each other strength and freedom. A shared interest in things.” He took a swig. “Not that I know anything about it.”

  “Yeah, man. I’m no Romeo either, but I fucking watched ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’ with her, so you don’t need to tell me about give and take.”

  “You watched ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “You liked it?”

  “It’s fine I guess.” I admitted. Jesus. My masculinity just sank by about seventy-three percent.

  “Pussy.”

  “I know.” I took a swig of my drink. “You’ve seen the movie?”

  “I have.”

  “And?” I asked him.

  “It’s a classic. Everybody has to see it.”

  We both grinned at each other. Oliver’s head popped up from across the small lounge, and he staggered over to sit on the table in front of us.

  “Guys, what’s happening here?” he said, befuddled.

  “Oliver, have you seen ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’?” Damon asked him.

  “Sure have. Laney made me watch it last week. It’s a chick-flick. She fell asleep five minutes in while I watched the whole thing. Why? What’s up?” He turned to me. “Why the long face, bro?”

  “Rose is gone. Now I need to get her back,” I said.

  Oversimplified, but dead on. His intoxicated mind should’ve been able to grasp that. Sometimes oversimplification worked, but other times it didn’t. Oliver, in his drunkenness, looked confused.

  “Wait, who’s gone?”

  “Rose, you moron,” I answered him before Damon got the chance. “Because the deal ended, and I hadn’t told her I loved her.”

  “Urgh! You idiot!” Oliver slapped his forehead with his hand. “Didn’t we coach you? You gotta tell her, man! Look at you, sitting here doing nothing. She loves you too, man. I could always see it.”

  “Yeah. She told him so,” Damon said.

  “What the fuck, man?!” Oliver’s eyes widened at me. “Why didn’t you tell her then?”

  He began to piss me off. “She didn’t tell me, she wrote it in a letter that she left behind when she moved out. I don’t even know where to fucking find her now. I put our PI on it.”

  “Harris?” Damon asked.

  “Yup, Harris.”

  “Good. Harris will do the job. But it’ll take time.”

  “Ask her boss,” Oliver said. “Or her HR. Surely, they’d have a new address on file!”

  “Dumbass. That’s confidential info they wouldn’t just hand over,” I said. “Harris will get it. Might take a few days.”

  “Or weeks,” Oliver warned. “Maybe months. Depending on how well she covered her tracks.”

  “Covered her tracks? What are you talking about? She’s not a fucking criminal,” I bit out.

  “True. She’s the victim. The victim of your stupidi
ty.”

  “For fuck’s sake, shut up, you’re not helping,” I snapped at him. He just grinned. I couldn’t even be mad at him. The fucker wasn’t wrong.

  “Why don’t you find her best friend?” Damon suggested.

  “Yeah, I thought of that. Her name’s Juliette. I don’t have her info. Or last name. But no worries, one way or another I’ll find her. And then—” I paused, for dramatic effect.

  Oliver raised his eyebrow.

  “What?” Damon pushed.

  “I’m going to get her a ring.”

  The guys’ mouths dropped open in surprise.

  “Ooo hoo hoo!” Oliver shouted, “My little bro’s going to get engaged with his fake fiancée for real this time!”

  I waved him off. “Hey, relax. I don’t even know if she’ll take me back.”

  “True.” Oliver looked down into his empty glass. “Good luck with that, bro. After letting her go.”

  “She’ll take you back,” Damon stated calmly, and he took another swig of his drink. “She said she loved you.”

  “Thanks, man.” I offered my fist, and he knocked it.

  “Dude,” Oliver leaned forward again, “I always wanted to know. Was that story about you guys fucking in the elevator true?”

  I shook my head, and Damon sat forward. “What now?” he asked.

  Oliver nudged him with his elbow. “Rose said that their first time having sex was in the elevator.”

  Damon looked at me questioningly. “Really?”

  “No. She was pulling your leg,” I said.

  Damon cracked up. So did Oliver. “Damn. I really like this girl.”

  What I didn’t tell the guys, of course, was that we did get busy in the elevator later that same night. How I wish we could’ve been stuck just a few minutes longer. Ha. That damn elevator basically brought us together. Staring ahead of me, I remembered that night. No lights. Her dress pulled up around her soft naked thighs, her thong lying somewhere on the floor, her mouth deliciously whispering my name…

  Heat ran down my spine, and I shook the memory from my mind before I got a straight-up “jiffy stiffy” in here, surrounded by a bunch of ugly ass guys. That would be one for the books.

  Oliver and Damon stared blankly at me, noticing my momentary lapse of thought.

  “Hello? Anybody home? You heard what I said?” Oliver asked. “I really like this girl.”

  “I really like her, too,” I said.

  “Well then, brother, I think you know what to do,” Oliver said, and ordered another round.

  The next day was a day for action. Harris texted me that Rose wasn’t in any hotel or motel in the area, and that he hadn’t received any information from her place of business, other than that she’d taken off a couple days. They and the cat rescue center only had her old phone number and address on file. He indicated that he’d reached the end of the normal—legal-ish—ways to find someone, but, of course, not the end of his resources. He said he’d proceed his investigation using “other starting points,” and get back to me ASAP.

  Damn it. I’d had enough of waiting.

  I reminded myself to be patient. Luckily, I had an important errand to run. A crucial one.

  I headed out to Rose’s favorite place, and what my mom called “the only jewelry store worth shopping at:” Tiffany’s. Similarities to a certain film Rose made me watch might or might not have been a driving factor. Mom said that Dad had used this store for everything important—Mom’s engagement and wedding rings, Mom’s anniversary necklace, Mom’s apology bracelet. Pretty good store, if you ask me.

  So, a few weeks ago, I went in thinking they should have a ring for a “fake fiancée frenemy next-door neighbor.” You know, the standard. I was browsing through the ring options when an assistant came over to help me. I told her what I was looking for—the best—and a quick summary so she knew what she was really dealing with here. Soon enough, she’d pulled out a notepad and started making notes for one of the most iconic rings they’d probably ever custom-designed.

  Getting an idea of Rose’s ring size had been easy—I know, I know, I should’ve paid better attention when we got her the fake ring, you live, you learn—the good thing here was, she took her rings off when she baked. I’d basically had two options. Option one: a sneaky five second ring-fitting session of her fake ring on my own hand. Option two: a tracing of the inside on a piece of baking paper. Not eager to lose any masculinity points here, but the result was: Her ring finger was as thick as my pinky.

  It was time to pick the ring up.

  I was walking along the sidewalk, and a block from the jewelers, a bus drove by with a very familiar face pasted on the side of it.

  Thanks, destiny.

  I looked closely. Yes, it was indeed Rose’s best friend Juliette, but not only that, it was also Rose’s ad campaign. Juliette’s face had a natural, captivating expression, and I noticed several women whip their heads around to look at the ad.

  I felt happy for her. No—thrilled, ecstatic and very, very proud.

  It was finally out there, and it looked great.

  Wait.

  I realized the opportunity I had here. I quickly pulled my phone out and took a picture. I immediately sent the picture to my assistant, asking her to find the phone number for the model in the ad. There was a website, the rest should be easy. Gretchen would handle this in no time. Three days—tops, depending on what NDAs or confidentially clauses Juliette had signed with the firm. If not, Harris was still on it. Now, it was only a question of time.

  Sooner or later, I’d find her.

  A few minutes later, I was standing in the jewelry store, waiting for the assistant to show me the finished ring. With a smile on her lips, she brought a small box, which she carefully opened. She placed the small jewel onto a turquoise pad in front of me.

  Needless to say, they’d nailed it, engraving and all.

  Right there in the middle of the velvet pad, sat the perfect ring for Rose.

  43

  ROSE

  It was a cold rainy night, and I was in a cab with Juliette. We were going for drinks at a club to celebrate the release of the campaign. At the same time, bless her heart, Juliette was trying to cheer me up. Needless to say, I was still distraught over having had to leave Miles, but I didn’t want to be the worst friend in the world and spoil Juliette’s excitement at being the new must-meet star, smiling down at us from billboards, buses, and magazines.

  That’s why I haven’t yet told her that I decided to take on the project in the UK.

  I’d talked to my boss. He was thrilled, and urged me to make my arrangements as soon as possible. “We’ve lost enough time,” he’d said, all jerky (get a life, bosshole). In fact, he’d demanded I should try to catch the earliest flight possible—tomorrow (really now? Geez, jerk!)—in order to make arrangements with the firm locally and to scope out my future living situations.

  I knew it would make Juliette sad, but she’d understand. I knew I had to tell her tonight.

  “Girl, lighten up. We’re here,” Juliette said as the cab pulled up to the club.

  “Yay,” I tried my very best.

  We jumped out and ran through the rain toward the entrance, where the bouncer opened for us with a friendly nod. We checked our coats and walked toward the bar, all eyes on us. The place was packed. Juliette shone in her sequined dress and was loving the attention. I, on the other hand, was not. I’d worn a black cocktail dress, knowing that it was a club and I needed to look the part, but I didn’t feel great.

  I looked around the place with a small hope that he’d magically be here, but of course, there were only strangers.

  We took a seat at the bar, and immediately ordered a cocktail each.

  “Okay, love. Cheer up. I brought you out here to get a smile on your face, not to sit looking pretty with a frown.” Juliette took me on, looking around at the crowd.

  “Sorry, Jules. I’ll try to have fun. I promise.” I forced a smile.

  “Rosey,
I know you’re upset about Miles. But I promise you, he’s going to change his mind, look for you, and you’re going to be together for real.” She ended with a nod and bent her head to suck on her cocktail straw.

  “No, Jules. This is the best thing for Miles and me right now. I need to figure my life out, and honestly, they’re still looking for that project manager in the UK branch to oversee the launch of the campaign… and I might have said yes.”

  “What?”

  “I could pack my bags and leave tomorrow. Maybe even tonight. Now would be the ideal time to take a chance like this. Go over there, start new.”

  “Start new? Are you serious?” she asked. “You’re running away?”

  “No, I’m not running away.”

  “You are! Can I at least come, too? Will you need me over there? You can’t leave me here, all alone.”

  “I know, Jules, it would only be temporary. Probably.”

  “Probably?” Juliette gaped at me. “What does that mean?”

  “Look, the more distance between Miles and me, the better.”

  “Love, I know you think this is the best for both of you, but look at yourself. You’re out here looking fucking bomb with a sad face. You don’t want to go to the UK. Not even for a few weeks to oversee a project. And certainly not any longer. You want him back—no, don’t lie to me. You guys were so happy when you were staying together. I honestly thought you’d make it official a long time ago.”

  Just then, she must have felt her phone vibrating, because she took it from her clutch, frowned, and excused herself to take the call in the lobby.

  When she arrived back, she had a smile on her face. “Sorry love, what were we saying?”

  I told her, “You were saying you thought we’d have made it official a long time ago. I guess the contract complicated things. I didn’t know if he was just enjoying the sex for the sake of having sex or what was going on.”

  “Nuh-uh…” Juliette shook her head. “I think he’s in love with you, too.”