Dirty Little Secret

The morning buzzed like a caffeinated circus. Lola’s nerves tangoed with excitement, each step toward the glass doors promising unknowing imminent disaster.

The first time I met Adrian Blackwood, I spilled iced coffee on his shoes.

Not just any shoes. Leather shoes so polished they reflected my panic back at me.

“Oh my God,” I blurted, already crouching. “I swear I’m not usually this clumsy. That was a lie. I am clumsy. But not like this. This is… advanced clumsiness.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just stared at me as I’d personally declared war on his ancestors.

“They are Italian,” he said flatly.

“I’m Nigerian,” I replied automatically, then froze. “I mean, I am sorry. That was not relevant.”

It was 8:17 a.m., my first day at a new job, and I had already assaulted the CEO with caffeine.

Perfect.

He sighed, slow and controlled, like a man counting to ten to avoid homicide. “Do you know how much these cost?”

“No,” I said quickly. “But I know how much my rent is, and it is… less.”

His jaw tightened. “Stand up.”

I obeyed, clutching my bag as it might save me.

“You’re new,” he said.

“Yes.”

“You’re late.”

“Yes.”

“You’ve ruined my shoes.”

“Yes.”

I nodded at every accusation because they were all true and because I had a strong feeling denying anything would end badly.

“Name,” he demanded.

“Lola.”

“Last name.”

“Does it matter?”

His stare sharpened.

“Lola Foster,” I said hesitantly

He paused. Something flickered in his eyes. Surprise? Recognition? Regret?

Then his phone rang.

He glanced at the screen, cursed under his breath, and did something unexpected.

He stepped closer to me.

Too close for comfort

Then, to my absolute horror, he wrapped an arm around my waist.

Wait, what?! I froze.

He smiled.

This man smiled.

“Darling,” he said warmly, for the benefit of the phone and the small gathering of employees now staring. “I didn’t expect you so early.”

My brain shut down.

“What?” I whispered.

“Play along,” he muttered through his smile. “Or you’re fired.”

‘How is this my first day’, Lola thought .

He lifted the phone. “Yes, Mother. She’s here.”

Mother?

“She insisted on coming to surprise me,” he continued smoothly. “Yes, the ring is perfect.”

Ring?

His hand squeezed my waist, hard.

“I have to go,” he said. “We are being interviewed in ten minutes.”

He ended the call.

I pulled away instantly. “What in the actual madness was that?”

He turned to me, smile gone, eyes sharp. “You’re my fiancée.”

“I am absolutely not.”

“You are for the next three weeks.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Is this a prank? You just met me.”

“No it is not, and you just spilled coffee on me,” he shot back. “Life is full of surprises.”

“Sir,” I said carefully, “this is insane.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “But it’s also necessary.”

He gestured toward the glass-walled conference room where cameras were being set up.

“If my mother finds out I’m single again, she will cancel a merger worth millions,” he said calmly. “So you have two choices. Help me, or go back downstairs and collect your termination letter.”

I stared at him.

This man was absolutely unhinged.

“How much?” I asked.

He blinked. “Excuse me?”

“How much are you paying me to lie to your mother and the entire internet? How much for my service?”

A slow, surprised smile tugged at his lips.

“I like you,” he said. “That’s unfortunate.”

What a man, what a first day, and what the hell?