By Monday morning, my "brilliant" lie was starting to feel less like quick thinking and more like social suicide.
Work was my sanctuary, my territory. Here, I didn't have to dodge questions about my personal life or pretend to be someone I wasn't. Here, I could bury myself in spreadsheets and contracts and be safely, blissfully single.
At least, that was the plan.
"Morning, Mia," called Jared from marketing, waving a coffee at me. "Did you see the WolfeTech press release?"
I kept walking toward my glass-walled office. "Nope. Not interested."
He jogged to keep up. "They're presenting at the National Expansion Summit. Guess who's leading the pitch?"
"I don't care."
"Liam Wolfe."
I stopped mid-stride. "Of course he is."
The man was everywhere lately business blogs, industry panels, even on the cover of Tech Innovators Monthly. And every time I saw his stupidly perfect jawline and confident smirk, I remembered the way he'd smiled at me the day he poached my client, like he'd just won a championship.
I'd sworn then that I'd never speak to him unless it was to tell him I'd beaten him.
But now...
I stared at the photo on Jared's tablet. Liam in a perfectly tailored suit, shaking hands with some investor. He looked like the kind of man who could sell air to a drowning person and he was exactly the sort of guy my family would believe I was dating.
If only he didn't make my blood boil.
By lunchtime, I was at my desk, staring at an email draft I'd typed and deleted five times.
Subject: A mutually beneficial proposal.
I hated that I was even considering this. But the reunion was in five days. I had two options: show up with a random hired actor who might forget the story we agreed on or... rope in someone who was smart, quick, and could keep up the act without breaking a sweat.
Someone like Liam.
I typed faster before I could talk myself out of it.
Liam,
We both have... situations that could be improved with the right arrangement. I have a family event that requires a convincing partner. You have a business image to maintain for your upcoming pitch. Let's discuss a short-term... collaboration.
Mia Cross
I hit send and immediately regretted every life choice that had led me here.
An hour later, my phone buzzed. Unknown number.
"Mia Cross," I answered.
"Collaboration?" The voice was deep, amused, and irritatingly familiar. "I almost thought it was a joke."
"Liam Wolfe," I said flatly.
"To what do I owe the honor?"
"I already told you. I need a... temporary husband."
A pause. Then, laughter. "You're serious."
"Dead serious. It's just for a weekend. You pretend to adore me in front of my family, I pretend to think you're a decent human being in front of your investors."
"You do know I have options, right?"
"So do I," I lied.
Another pause. Then: "Dinner tonight. We'll discuss terms."
Before I could argue, he hung up.
I stared at my phone.
What had I just done?
