ELLIE
Three weeks had passed since Vegas, and boy, had reality done a number on me.
Willowbrook, nestled deep within rolling hills and serene meadows, was a stark contrast to the neon dazzle of Vegas. The heart of this small town was our family's establishment – Mayer Financial Services, a name that resonated through Willowbrook for generations.
In my home office office, a blend of modern touches and heirlooms, I was surrounded by an array of documents. Faint sunlight streamed through, highlighting the mounds of paperwork on my oak desk.
As the head accountant of Mayer Financial Services, I managed the family's books. The stress of it all was evident on my face. The numbers, of late, had been telling a sad tale. Profits were dwindling. Now, we were in the red, facing more debts than assets. The situation had evolved beyond mere number-crunching; it was a fight for survival.
Resting in my leather chair in my apartment, I reflected on our primary issue: A botched investment. Half a year ago, persuaded by a consultant, we'd invested heavily in a tech startup. It crashed, taking a large portion of our funds with it. I had voiced my reservations, but in family businesses, emotions and legacy often outweighed logic. My optimistic father had hoped for sizable returns that never came.
We were now facing the fallout.
A notification on my computer snapped me back. It was an email about an upcoming meeting with potential investors, a meeting crucial for our firm's survival.
I inhaled deeply, channeling the confidence I'd felt in Vegas. The environment might be different, but the objective remained—sway them to bet on us.
I found myself thinking of Alex, a small smile forming. Our Vegas escapade, set against luxury and excess, seemed worlds away from my current predicament. But a constant truth emerged: Whether in the flashy streets of Vegas or the serene setting of Willowbrook, life was about taking leaps of faith.
With renewed vigor, I refocused on the numbers, gearing up for the meeting. Mayer Financial Services had seen tough times before. We were down but not defeated. Not yet.
My phone buzzed with a familiar ding, and I glanced over to see a text from the president of Mayer Financials: Dad.
Meeting’s in twenty. Don't be late, Ellie.
I smirked and quickly responded, Wasn't planning on it. Besides, it would have been a shame if the sinking ship didn't have its chief accountant aboard, right?
His reply came quickly, and I could practically hear his voice: It was more like a punctured lifeboat then.
We need this, El.
I sighed, the weight of our situation settling in again. We'd been banking on these investors to see something in us, something worth saving.
With urgency, I grabbed my leather satchel and donned my light coat. As I stepped out, the crisp fall air of Upstate New York in autumn enveloped me. Willowbrook's downtown had looked straight out of a postcard, painted with the rich hues of reds, oranges, and yellows. The trees lining the streets had been a mosaic of color, their leaves rustling gently in the wind.
Downtown was abuzz, the familiar scent of pumpkin spice and apple cider filling the air. People, wrapped in scarves and cozy sweaters, were enjoying the perfect fall day. Children laughed in the park, playing with leaves, and couples walked hand in hand, taking in the tranquil setting. The town clock tower clanged, signaling my meeting was nearing.
But before diving into the world of finances, I made a stop I couldn’t resist: Lila's Coffeeshop. The ornate wooden door had opened to a rush of warmth and the inviting scent of coffee. The inside was a blend of rustic and modern charm, with wooden beams and local art gracing the walls.
As I stood in line for my drink, I overheard a conversation. "... can't believe Mayer is in such a state," a woman whispered.
"Apparently, they made a bad bet on some tech startup," a man added.
An older gentleman remarked, "They've been a staple here for years. Such a pity."
A pang of sadness hit me. The tight-knit nature of Willowbrook was both a blessing and a curse. While the familiarity was comforting, everyone knew everyone else’s business. Wanting to end their speculative talk, I cleared my throat loudly, ensuring they recognized the Mayer daughter.
Their conversation stopped abruptly, all looking guilty.
With a playful smirk, I greeted, "Morning, folks."
They responded with a chorus of awkward greetings, and I chuckled inwardly. Ah, the charms of small-town life.
I wouldn't have had it any other way.
"Lila," I greeted as I approached the counter, giving her a warm smile.
Lila’s fire-red hair was pulled into a messy bun, a few loose tendrils framing her face. With her bright blue eyes twinkling mischievously, she raised an eyebrow at me. "Ellie Mayer, the woman of the hour. You ready for the big showdown?"
I rolled my eyes playfully. "Don't remind me. I need this coffee to be like a superhero's serum. You know, something that gives me super strength and invulnerability?"
She chuckled, her red lips stretching into a grin. "Gotcha covered. But before that, any updates on the mysterious 'Vegas Alex'?" She made air quotes, emphasizing the nickname she and the girls at the shop had given him.
The mere mention of his name, or rather the moniker, brought a flush to my cheeks. "Lila, for the last time, it was one unforgettable night in Sin City. That's it. And no," I said before she could interject, "there haven't been any updates. It's in the past, a memory to cherish and nothing more."
Lila studied me for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly. The woman had an uncanny knack for seeing right through my facade, always sensing when I wasn't quite being honest with myself. "Right," she said slowly, her tone dripping with skepticism. "Memory to cherish. Sure."
A sarcastic comment formed at the tip of my tongue, but before I could volley it her way, Lila had already turned to make my drink. "One 'Accountant's Antidote' coming right up," she announced with a dramatic flourish.
I laughed. "You're still calling it that?"
She nodded enthusiastically. "Of course! Espresso to wake you up, caramel to sweeten your day, a dash of cinnamon for that extra kick, and oat milk for the smooth finish. Perfect for number crunchers like you."
Moments later, Lila slid the steaming cup across the counter. The aroma was intoxicating, a combination of strong coffee and sweet caramel. "Here you go. On the house," she winked.
I raised an eyebrow, "What's the catch?"
She smirked, "Just promise me if you ever do hear from 'Vegas Alex' again, I'll be the first to know."
Letting out a dramatic sigh, I playfully replied, "Oh, the sacrifices I make for free coffee. Deal."
Lila chuckled, "Good. Now go kick some investor butt!"
As I turned to leave, I glanced back over my shoulder, "I'll be back later. If things go south, I might need something with a little more... kick."
She grinned, waving her hand in a shooing motion, "Go get 'em, tiger. And remember, if all else fails, there's always whiskey."
With a laugh, I pushed the door open and stepped out, fortified by caffeine and the joy of chatting with my best friend. The world felt just a touch lighter despite the challenges that awaited me.
One year later…Relaxing in the comfortably worn-in leather chair, a glass of top-shelf single malt swirling in my hand, my eyes took in the generous sweep of our living room. Every little bit of this spot, from the slick marble underfoot to the showy, fancy-as-hell chandelier above, spoke of a kind of smooth, subtle luxury. Our new home, tucked into the wealthy, serene bubble of the Broadmoor neighborhood in Seattle, was our haven – old-world class meeting new-world swag, privacy valued, and a community that had our back."You know, every time I walk past that alcove," I motioned towards the corner of the room where a collection of wedding photos took pride of place, "I'm reminded of how real our wedding was."Emily's eyes followed mine, her lips curving into a fond smile. "Well, the second one at least."Our real wedding had been a polar opposite of the first. Intimate, with only close friends and family, held on the shores of Lake Washington. The sun had painted the skies with hues
Well, who would’ve thought? The room should’ve been dripping with scandal, awkward glances, and gossip whispering through every corner, but nope. It morphed into a fantastic party instead. Laughing faces, clinking glasses, and a weird yet totally welcomed wave of euphoria fizzed through the air. Everyone was raising their glasses, toasting to the spectacle, to the unexpected joy in a very expected mess.My heart was bopping around in my chest like a pinball, all because of Adrian’s “I love you” still ricocheting through my mind. There we were, in the middle of it all, swaying, smiling, completely wrapped up in each other while the crowd partied on around us. As the bass pumped through the space, I could only hear the soft, steady beat of our hearts, and feel our breaths gently colliding in the small space between us.It was all so perfect—just him, me, and our little secret, safe in our bubble amid the chaos.But then, reality, that persistent bugger nudged its annoying nose in.Enter
"Perhaps this will interest you all," Derek announced with a dramatic flair, clearly relishing the moment. As he unfolded the document, it was clear he had gotten his hands on our agreement. "A contract," he declared, his voice dripping with satisfaction, "outlining the precise terms of their little charade."The murmurs and whispers grew louder, shock and betrayal evident on every face. Emily's face paled, and my heart raced as Derek continued to gloat.Derek’s smirk widened, sensing he had the upper hand. "Oh, Adrian, did you really think you could outsmart me?" With feigned gentleness, he adjusted the document so he could read it clearly, and began in a loud, theatrical voice."'Parties involved: Ms. Emily Stanton and Mr. Adrian Blackstone. Purpose: To enter into a mutually beneficial agreement, in which Ms. Stanton will act as Mr. Blackstone's fiancée for a period of six months, with the aim of securing certain business and social advantages,'" Derek paused for effect, letting the
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“But… how?”The walls of the penthouse suddenly felt like they were closing in on me. Derek knew? Or did he? And how on Earth had he even found out? My head was spinning with questions.Adrian stood before me, and I handed his phone back over to him, my own hand shaking.I turned to Adrian, trying to read his face. "How could he know, Adrian? We've been so careful. Did someone talk? Is there someone we missed?" My voice bordered on hysteria.He ran a hand through his hair, his face a mixture of frustration and worry. "Emily, I honestly don't know. Derek's always been good at digging up dirt, but this... this was supposed to be airtight." He glanced away for a moment, turning his attention to the city through the windows of my bedroom. “There’s another possibility.”“What’s that?”“That he’s bluffing. He might suspect that the marriage is a sham, but what hard proof could he possibly have? He could be making a move, hoping to scare us off.”There was a heavy silence between us. My mind
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