Page 3 of Faking It with the Ice Queen

Bouncing in her chair, Grace gleefully exclaimed, “Of course! I would love to come. I have the whole schedule for the week on my phone already, and I can certainly help keep all the activities on time and organized.”

Grimacing, Elara clarified, “While I appreciate you having the schedule on hand, I’m not asking you to attend as my secretary. I would like you to attend as my girlfriend.”

At this revelation, Grace’s jaw dropped wide open.

Before she could get the wrong idea, Elara quickly amended, “Not myrealgirlfriend. I need you topretendto be my girlfriend. I had a…guest who was supposed to attend as my partner. Unfortunately, she is no longer available.

“I need you to come with me this week and pretend to be my girlfriend. My entire family is expecting to meet my new partner, and, well, I just can’t bear to disappoint them.”

Filled with dread and a tingle of nerves, Elara looked into Grace’s eyes, pleading silently that she would agree. Grace continued to sit, her back straight against the chair, her mouth agape. The silence was palpable.

As a skilled negotiator, Elara could tell she was about to lose this deal. She stood up and made her way around the desk to stand directly in front of Grace. Leaning back against the desk, she looked into Grace’s eyes and could see that she was not about to run out of the office. She just had to hook her.

“You’ll be paid handsomely, of course. A thousand dollars a day. You will also be provided clothes to wear, which you may keep.”

Seeing the wheels start to turn in Grace’s mind, Elara plastered on her best deal-closing smile. “The clothes will be designer, of course. And I will pay you for the first day upfront. A thousand dollars in your pocket right now. What do you say?”

2

Grace knew taking this job was a risk. She had never worked in a corporate office this fancy before and knew her taste for bold colors and patterns and unique thrift store finds would never fit in with the sleek designer clothes and high heels everyone else seemed to prefer. Even her light brown hair stood out, always a little too wild with a mind of its own. Meanwhile, even the receptionist had smooth, long hair that looked like she regularly got a professional blowout.

Honestly, she wasn’t sure why they had hired her in the first place. It had only been a little over a month, and sheknewshe would be fired. Working for Elara Silver was more than what she expected. Her expectations weren’t just high; they were impossible. Or at least they were for Grace. Elara never seemed to get angry with anyone else.

Everyone seemed to be afraid of Elara, but Grace could tell they also admired her. And she couldn’t blame them. Who wouldn’t admire her? She was a freaking force of nature. Elara knew what she wanted—and seemed to always get it. Grace had long wished to be more like that. She wished she could have that drive; she wished she could be that successful.

That morning, the sound of Elara’s heels clicking echoed through the building and made Grace’s heart race. She knew she had forgotten something, but she just couldn’t, well, remember. When Elara walked up to her in that tailored suit, she looked like a statuette looking down her nose at Grace. A scary statuette, but one lovingly carved by an artist. Every detail was perfect. Too perfect.

After realizing that the thing she forgot was the deal closing, Grace was sure that Elara’s stony exterior would crack and she would rain wrath down on her. So when she was called into Elara’s office, she fully expected to get the news that she was fired.

What she never expected was this.

Grace’s neck burned, and she could feel her face turning red. Elara’s intense gaze was fixed on her, and she was so freaking close. The proximity combined with the nature of Elara’s request had her insides squirming.

Her girlfriend? Well, pretend girlfriend. But still, who would believe that Grace was Elara Silver’s girlfriend? Elara was the sapphic community’s most eligible bachelorette. She was rich, powerful, and really hot. Grace felt like a pleb in comparison.

Grace wasn’t poor, but she wasn’t rich enough to say no to a thousand dollars a day. That was the kind of money that could change lives—her life. It was for seven days too. Seven thousand dollars in one week was nothing to sneeze at. Grace had been scraping by for years now, putting all her extra money into savings so that one day she could open her own thrift shop. Owning a thrift shop wasn’t the most glamorous of dreams, but it was hers. And seven thousand dollars would go a long way to making that dream a reality.

Plus the clothes. Elara had a taste for the finer things in life. Grace had no doubt that any clothes given wouldn’t just be designer; they would be the best of the best. You couldn’t wantto own a thrift store and not love fashion. Silk ties and pressed suits might not be her style, but she knew a good deal when she saw one.

Grace looked down at her hands, if only to escape the intensity of Elara’s gaze, and realized she had been nervously picking at the pilling on her vintage pants. Grace knew she was so out of her depth, but she couldn’t help wanting Elara’s approval too. Elara called this an opportunity, and she wasn’t wrong. This could be her chance to prove herself, to prove she was good enough to be trusted with this. She may not want to stay in the high-stakes corporate world, but she wanted the chance to stay long enough to learn from the best in the business: Elara Silver. It was the reason she had applied for the job in the first place. Screw going back to school for a business degree; she wanted hands-on experience on how to run an actual business. And Elara definitely knew how to run a business. Without a doubt, she was the savviest businesswoman Grace had ever heard of.

Having made up her mind, Grace finally looked back up into Elara’s worried face. “Sure. Why not?”

Relief washed over Elara’s face before her stony exterior set back into place. Grace knew she would never get a thank you, but she hoped that Elara would show her gratitude in other ways.

Standing straighter, Elara smoothed the wrinkles in her slacks and replied, “Wonderful. You may take your leave to make any arrangements for your absence. I will need you to meet me in the lobby by 1 p.m. That will be all, Grace.”

Rolling her eyes at Elara’s formality, Grace stood up from the chair and made her way to the door. Before she closed it, she turned back.“See you at one, Elara.”

Grace quickly grabbed her bag and made her way out of the building. As soon as she made it to the parking lot, she whippedout her cell and called Aunt Lucy, her only family who also lived in Sacramento.

Her parents had recently moved to the East Coast to be closer to her grandparents, so Aunt Lucy had become somewhat of a mother figure, except she definitely did not act like a mom. Aunt Lucy was more of a free spirit. She never had children of her own, and she had had many “love affairs” as she called them. While Aunt Lucy was too loosey-goosey to be a true mother figure, Grace still relied on her for support.

Grace considered what to tell her about her upcoming week, as she was uncertain what exactly she was doing in the first place. But her cat Mr. Fluffy Pants needed someone to watch after him while she was gone. He was an elderly cat, and the name was obviously from a more childish time of Grace’s life. She knew cats were generally independent and didn’t need too much from a caretaker, but this was Mr. Fluffy Pants. He deserved to be spoiled with love, which Aunt Lucy certainly would do.

Aunt Lucy picked up on the third ring. Her voice trilled with surprise. “Grace! What do I owe the pleasure of a midday call from my favorite niece?”

Smiling, Grace replied, “I’m your only niece.”

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