“I can’t believe you just said that!” I burst out, staring at Ethan like he’d sprouted twenty extra heads. “You want me to... to pretend to be your girlfriend? What, like, fake holding hands? Fake kissing? Fake everything?” He didn’t blink as his nonchalant gaze met mine, a hint of a smirk playing on those lips. “Yes, Riley. That’s usually how fake dating works.” All Harper Adams wanted was to get through one evening pretending to be her best friend on a blind date. But when her date turned out to be Ethan Reynolds—her infuriatingly handsome CEO—things quickly spiraled out of control. Now, she’s caught in a whirlwind of fake romance to help him dodge his family’s relentless matchmaking schemes. Between awkward office run-ins and public displays of “affection” at high-society galas, Harper is discovering that fake dating might be a lot harder than she thought—especially when her feelings for Ethan start to feel all too real. With secrets piling up and hilariously disastrous moments at every turn, Harper’s left wondering: can she survive this charade, or will her fake love life blow up in her face?
View MoreThe bar was loud, alive with the chatters, but Riley’s voice cut through the noise. “What if I told you I might have a way to solve all your problems?”..
I blinked at her, stirring the melting ice in my glass. “Solve them how? cause unless you’ve got a time machine or a winning lottery ticket, I’m not buying it.”
Her lips curved into a sly smile, the same one she made when she was about to do something crazy. “I need you to go on a blind date for me.”
I stared at her, in disbelieve. “A blind date? Riley, have you finally lost your mind? I’ve had enough disasters in my life this week without adding ‘impersonating a rich heiress’ to the list, not to mention, your dad would kill you if he found out”
Riley waved it off. “Please. Dad doesn’t care about me, he cares about the idea of me. He wants Riley Bennett, the perfect daughter, mingling with the perfect pedigree. Not Riley Bennett, the ‘rebellious heiress.’” She air-quoted with dramatic flair. “But I can’t keep doing this. I have a life, you know.”
“And what makes you think I’d be a good substitute?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.
She shrugged. “You’re great at pretending to like people you hate.”
“That’s debatable,” I muttered, but she ignored me.
“Look,” she leaned forward, her green eyes gleaming with that familiar spark of mischief, “go on the date, be your absolute worst self, and scare him off. . Besides,” she added with a grin, “I’ll make it worth your while.”
I hesitated. “Worth my while how?”
Riley held up two fingers. “Two months’ rent. And a little extra, because I love you so much.”
I hesitated, but my bank account wasn’t just screaming for help, it was crying into a pillow and I needed a change of pace “Fine, But just so we’re clear, I’m going to be the blind date from hell.”
“Good,” Riley said with a grin, clinking her glass against mine. “That’s the Harper I know and love.”
Later That Evening …
I found myself in Riley’s bedroom, staring at a version of myself I barely recognized. My usually tidy brunette hair was tucked under a sleek blonde wig, and my makeup was smoky, bold, and downright intimidating. The tight black halter dress Riley had picked out hugged my curves in a way that made me feel half glamorous, half ridiculous.
“This is ridiculous,” I muttered, wobbling in heels that could double as weapons. “Are you sure it’s not too much?”
“Too much? This is the bare minimum,” Riley quipped, adjusting the straps on my dress. “Remember, femme fatale. You’re not here to charm him—you’re here to terrify him, Besides, you already agreed to this persona last night!”
I froze, a vague memory surfacing. “Wait...what persona? You’re talking about that thing I said last night, aren’t you?” I groaned, slapping my cheeks as I recalled.
“You want me to go in there and get completely dumped? How... dumb should I act?” I’d asked, clueless about her “plan.”
“I already tried that. A LOT,” Riley had chuckled, rubbing her forehead like she was some blind date veteran, which, considering her matchmaking-crazed dad, was probably true.
“Seriously? That didn’t work?” I’d been half-impressed, half-dismayed.
“Oh, yeah! I’m pretty much a pro by now.” She’d grinned, giving me her best “cool” persona look, complete with the haughty, half-lidded stare. I’d burst out laughing, both at her spot-on delivery and the sheer hilarity of her whole situation. “Jeez, Riley, you really are something… Don’t they ever complain about it to your dad?”
“Probably, but they never admit it to him directly. I think it bruises their egos when they realize I’m just acting,” she’d said, spinning her shot glass with a mischievous smirk. “So, they just say they’re ‘not good enough for his daughter’ or something. Then Dad goes and finds another poor sucker for me.”
I’d frowned at that. “So... basically, you’re just on an endless blind-date cycle?”
She’d shrugged. “Yep. That’s why tonight, you can go in there and be whoever you want! Blow off some steam, go nuts! You already know how it’ll end, anyway.”
And now, looking at myself in the mirror, I sighed. “So that’s why you keep doing it? Because, I mean, if you really hate these dates, why not just tell him the truth?”
Her answer had come fast, almost defensive. “I can’t do that! I don’t want to lose to him!” She’d crossed her arms, looking every bit the rebellious heiress. “And if I refuse, he could cut me off! Even if I became a science teacher, I’d never make anywhere near what I get now!”
Oh, there it is… I’d thought then, finally getting the real reason.
She’d gone on, wistful. “But more than that, I’m waiting for the one.”
One brow had lifted in curiosity. “The one?”
She’d sighed dreamily, waving her hands as she painted her vision. “You know—the one. That love-at-first-sight, electric, heart-pounding kind of thing. I don’t need Mr. Right, I need someone who’ll love me for who I am. These blind dates make me feel like a prize racehorse or something. No thanks!”
I’d nodded, feeling her frustration. So that’s the life of a rich girl, huh? “Honestly? Me too,” I’d admitted, clinking my glass against hers.
“Exactly! He has to be super rich, though.” She grinned. “To the one!”
“To the one!” I’d echoed, the two of us clinking glasses.
Back to the present, Riley tapped my shoulder. “Sooo, any thoughts on who you wanna be?”
I shrugged, trying to come up with some outrageous persona. “Well, playing dumb didn’t work, so… what about being, I don’t know, a ‘hot mess’? Crazy hair, too much makeup?” I made some frantic gestures.
“Eh, that’s more sad than scary. We need something powerful,” she mused, her gaze flicking around the room before landing on a poster. A woman in the ad held a shot glass, chin high, with a sultry look that could kill. Riley’s eyes lit up. “What about a femme fatale?”
“A femme what?”
“You know, a man-eater! Someone who eats guys for breakfast.” She looked far too pleased with herself.
“Uh… not sure if I can pull that off,” I muttered, but Riley was already filling up another glass, pushing it toward me with a wild grin.
I sighed, turning back to the mirror. “You know, for someone trying to escape their dad’s matchmaking schemes, you’ve got this down to a science.”
She grinned. “Practice makes perfect. Now go out there and make me proud.”
“Hold on, you’re insane! I don’t even know who I’m meeting tonight! Do you have any details? Name? Job?”
“Uh… he’s some CEO, I think.” She shrugged, not even bothering to act concerned.
I felt a bead of sweat trickle down my temple. “A CEO? How old is he? What’s his name?”
“Who knows?” Riley looked genuinely unconcerned, waving it off. “Maybe I knew his name at one point, but after the tenth guy, you stop keeping track. But don’t worry—he’ll know about me!”
Wonderful. So this is a literal blind date, I thought, heart pounding.
“Perfect! Just remember: you’re supposed to be over the top. Radiate all that ‘hot mess’ energy. Make him wish he never set foot in this restaurant.”
After a final round of primping, Riley handed me a small clutch and gave me a playful push toward the door. “Now go make me proud, Harper.”
Harper’s POV "Where's Eric?" I scanned the pub, weaving between low-lit booths and the thrum of late-night noise."Over here!" his voice rang out from the back.He waved both arms above a table cluttered with shot glasses, an untouched bowl of peanuts, and enough empty bottles to supply a recycling drive.I practically jogged over. "Eric, how much have you had?"He stood—barely—and pulled me into a clumsy hug. “I missed you, friend”The way his chin rested on top of my head like we were puzzle pieces that somehow still fit after all these years… it wasn’t fair."Okay, drama boy. Let’s get you some water—""I broke up with Historia," he blurted, eyes glassy.I blinked. “You what?”"She said I don’t like her. That I spend too much time with other people. With work. That I’m too... loose?"I sat down beside him, slowly pouring us both shots. “Loose? That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. You just like people.”He shook his head. “Apparently I like them more than her.”There was a bea
Harper’s POV“Isn’t that the CEO?” Connor whispered, ducking behind his monitor like it would shield him.Sasha froze mid-keystroke. “Oh God—why is he here?”I shrank in my seat, hunching so low behind my desk I nearly became one with my keyboard. My sunglasses slid down my nose, but I didn’t dare adjust them.“Did someone mess up?” Jean craned her neck toward the glass wall where Ethan Reynolds stood, a white-clad reaper of corporate dreams. “No seriously, who did it?!”Connor leaned toward her. “Ten bucks it’s Keith. Or Sasha. She took a whole donut from the executive fridge yesterday.”“Guys!” Marco whispered urgently, glancing over. “Relax. Maybe he’s just... inspecting the floor.”“I’M NOT READY TO BE INSPECTED,” Sasha hissed.Meanwhile, I was having a full-body crisis.I didn’t get caught yesterday, right?I ran off like a cartoon villain the second that elevator door opened. No way he recognized me. There was makeup. The bruise looked different. I’m safe. Totally safe. Probably
David’s POV“David.”“….”“DAVID.”I snapped out of my thoughts. “Yes, Mr. Reynolds—sorry. What did you just say?”Ethan glared at me from behind his desk, arms crossed, that familiar scowl tightening across his face. “I said, if you’re this distracted, maybe I should send you to shoot clay pigeons with my grandfather.”I winced.“At this point, are you trying to avoid it—or auditioning for it?”“I’ll find her,” I said quickly.“Good. Because if I don’t get results soon…” He leaned forward, voice low and lethal. “I’m taking Riley Bennett to meet him instead.”“What?! Ethan—!”“I mean it.”My jaw clenched. He wasn’t bluffing. If Riley got dragged into this? She’d have my head.I forced out a stiff nod and left his office, heart pounding. I didn’t have much time left.Ethan’s POVI was pacing the eighth floor when I saw a figure turn a corner down the hall. My steps slowed.‘What the hell...?’ The person was short, in sunglasses, overly peppy—moving like they were trying too hard not to
David’s POV“Riley!” a staff called out, pushing her sunglasses higher on her face as she climbed into the car.“You’re late,” Riley grinned as she rolled down the window. “Traffic. Get in.”There was something about the way she held her phone tucked tight to her ear, thumb nervously tapping the side. It sparked something.Two weeks ago, I’d dropped files to the finance strategy department floor—quick delivery, no chit-chat. But I remembered her. The girl in the corner cubicle with a desk that looked like a stationery convention threw up on it.I was parked just a few cars behind, engine off, eyes trained on the exchange like a man on a surveillance mission—which, to be fair, I kind of was.I narrowed my eyes. That girl—Harper, right? —looked familiar. Not just because I’d seen her in the office before, but… there was something else. I couldn’t put my finger on it.“He still thinks I’m in Peru,” she muttered, letting out a breath. “Honestly, if he shows up at my funeral.. I’m haunting
Ethan’s POV“Ethan,” David said carefully, watching me stare out the window. "The chairman says he's out of patience.'' I didn’t move-- The silence between us stretched, filled only by the ticking of the antique clock on the shelf behind me.David cleared his throat. “It’s been almost a week since she went off the radar. There’s only so much I can say to buy time.”'RINNNGGGGG'The shrill ring of my office phone cut through the tension. I picked it up immediately. “This is Ethan Reynolds.”Another phone buzzed a second later. David looked down at his screen, his brows lifting. “It’s the chairman,” he mouthed.I exhaled and ended my call. “Handle it,” I said.David answered, his voice level. “Yes, sir. Ethan is—currently in a board meeting... Yes, I’ll remind him. Understood.”He hung up slowly. “He says one more day of silence, and he’ll come to the office himself.”“Tell him I understand,” I said, sitting down and opening a document just to look busy.David didn’t move. “Ethan… You’
Harper’s POVRiley’s silver Mercedes came to a stop in front of GlowMira’s towering glass entrance. The sunlight glared off the building like it, too, was judging me. I sat motionless in the passenger seat, clutching my coat and shielding half my face with my hair like some kind of Victorian ghost. My dignity as well as my tolerance for chaos, had hit an all-time low.“Thanks again,” I said, attempting a grateful smile that came out more like a grimace. “Seriously, I owe you.”Riley gave me a sunny grin, completely unfazed. “Please. It’s the least I can do after... well, you know.”I sighed. “You mean after initiating the chain of events that led to me being publicly clowned, borderline blackmailed, and now forced to fake-marry a man who terrifies me with just a glance?”“Exactly! That. But on the bright side...,you’re getting chauffeured now!”I stared at her.She reached over, inspecting my makeshift face covering. “Yeah, the eye patch is... not working. Wait.” She dove into the glov
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