Being CEO's Fake Fiancée

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All rights reserved. Copyright of Kellisa Kelly.

This story is craft from my imagination, I won’t tolerate my work being translated into another language or being copied to another site. Anyone who violate my copyright claims will be severely punished.

All places, characters and events found in this story are fictional, if related to person living or dead it’s purely coincidental. No part of this work should be reproduced, transmitted or distributed in any form whatsoever, including photocopying, mechanical or electronic methods, recording and various types of other methods.

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With all that been said please enjoy the story I sure am having fun writing it. Dislike me if you want, I’m just trying to keep the peace.

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Zoey's POV

What is love?

I snort at the rhetorical question. Ever so damn often these four letters will menacingly seep into my unconcious mind, seemingly to inflict pain by scratching at the faded scars branded across my heart. I really thought I held the answer to that a few months ago, fuck could I be more wrong?

I actually did believe in cotton candy clouds and chocolate flavoured rainbows at one point, funny how quickly your whole entire perspective can be shitted on by a piece of----

Well, I’ve learnt from it and to me that’s the greatest part.

“Zoey you’re needed at table five.” One of the diner’s waitresses, Emma, bumps my shoulder breaking my reverie. Shit. Without uttering another word the woman spins around and makes her way to the hot kitchen, her stiff ponytail trailing behind her. 

“I’ll be right there.” I mutter to no one in particular. As I lay the wet washcloth on the stained counter, I gag slightly from the strong bleach odor that is now burning my nostrils. With a low sigh, I walk over to the recommended table.

This filthy cloth mocks the stupid choices I’ve made to paint myself in a fucking corner!

My eyes trail over the faces of happy patrons conversing over brunch. Despite the urgent need for new decoration, the diner’s dull red chipped walls and stained table tops always seem to reel in a multitude of loyal customers. I am grateful for the returnees most of all, they honestly keep the doors of this quaint place open. I would have probably been let go months ago.

“Good morning, welcome to CJ's Diner.” switching to my peppy voice I greet the lone woman occupying an empty booth. “What can I get for you?”

My eyes briefly trail over the lady’s posh attire. She's probably in her mid-fifties, judging by the numerous streaks of white hair that ran wild on her head. I can't help but wonder if that'll be how I'll be in the future — alone, with no one to share life with, no one to love... no one to love me. Pursing my lips slightly I stop the train wreck of foolish thoughts. 

There I go again reading into things and fabricating a false reality to feel sorry for myself. She may very well be married and blessed with children for all I know.

“I’ll have the sweet iced tea with buttered toast and bacon on the side,” her glossy lips twist into a brief smile as she finishes of the order.

Scribbling down the light order I repeat it aloud. “Sweet iced tea, buttered toast, bacon on the side.”

The woman confirms with a short nod, with that I excused myself from the table and make my way back over to the counter. 

Returning to the booth a few minutes later I gently set down the dinnerware in front of her with a warm smile. “Please enjoy,”

“Thank you, darling.” Looking up from her smartphone she mirrors my expression. “Please bring around the bill, I want half of this to-go”

“You’re welcome and will do.” Excusing myself from the table once more I head over back to Emma who is now manning the register.

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I hastily fasten the bolt making sure the lock is secure behind me.

I really hate this rundown apartment ever since I step foot into this place, it helps zero that we live in the worst possible part of town. Every other night it’s something different, if it’s not the raging hormonal couple being loud next door then it’s the gunshots constantly echoing outside my broken bedroom window.

The only “pro” that comes with the purchase is, the very limited, spacing for two. I should have known that sleazy landlord was dirty when he offered to slap on a discount price to sweeten the already cheap deal.

“Hello, hello.” Throwing the shared apartment key on the mahogany coffee table I walk into the small kitchen area where Kat is slaving over our tiny stove. My eyes immediately flicker to the low fire licking the copper pan.

“Whatcha doin’?” Climbing up onto one of the high bar stools I watch her under a wary gaze.

Katherine is the first, and most favourite, person I’ve met since I up and left New York. This woman is undeniably beautiful, inside and out, with pin straight flowing hair and vibrant blue eyes that seems to capture the souls of men.

She must have seen a desperate woman that day when she stopped me from shoplifting a pop and some biscuits from our local grocery store. 

Inexcusable but I was a lost soul.

“Hey Zee, I’m just reheating last night’s pizza and some jerked chicken breast I grabbed on the way over.” She waves the spatula around before pointing the thing at me. “How was your day?”

“Same old same old.” I sigh wincing at the throbbing pain skating up and down my spine. Today’s rush hour was brutal. “You?”

“Aw,” she braces her back against the mini fridge shooting me a sympathetic gaze. “Mhm. Well the day did a complete 360° when Josie introduced us to the new HOD I can tell you that!”

A pink tint splouch her flushed cheeks. I smile sweetly at the woman internally rejoicing at her mini triumph, no more sitting through long rants for me plus bonus points that this new head is obviously a stud.

Yah!

“A guy,” I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively causing her to release a fit of giggle. “I see you!”

“How---” she begins but wave me off instead totally dismissing the conversation. “You know what, I don’t wanna know.”

I glance up at the old clock hanging from a rusty nail above our sink.

Barely after five.

“Well save me some chicken breast.” I hop off the stool gritting my teeth at the excruciating pain pulsing through me. “Gonna take a shower then we can catch up that movie from yesterday.”

“Yep!” her shout trails me all the to my bedroom door.

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