Page 3 of Boss's Baby: A Fake Fiance Romance

She wasn’t wrong. The military, along with being something of a family tradition, had been my shot at getting myself right and trying to become a reasonably well-functioning adult. And it worked. I was a new man when I’d come out. Sure, a few bad habits stuck around, but only so much that a few years in Afghanistan couldn’t set straight.

“Something like that.”

“Perfect.”

She had a plan. And I was pretty damn sure I wasn’t going to like it.

“Um, so, like I said, I’ve been kinda kicking around here, made assistant manager at the wine bar my friend opened up. And I’ve got some time off for Thanksgiving if you want to, you know, see if the ol’ fire’s still burning.”

“Very direct,” I said.

“Well, when a girl knows what she wants, she has to go for it, you know? That’s what I read in this book I just picked up, all about mindset and mindfulness and all that. So what do you say?”

I didn’t need to time to think about it. But for the sake of politeness, I decided to act like it was a hard call to make.

“You know, I read something recently too.”

“Yeah?” she asked, as if the idea of us both having read a book meant that we were soulmates.

“Yep. It said some things are better left in the past. We had fun, Melody. But let’s leave it at that.”

“Fun” wasn’t really how I’d describe our brief fling. That is, unless you consider stepping away from your phone for thirty minutes to come back to five missed calls and a dozen texts asking where you were “fun.” I didn’t.

“No!” She said the word so loudly that she managed to gather the attention of people nearby.

“No?”

“No,” she said, this time with a little more calm to her voice, as if she realized how nuts she sounded. “I think this could work, Josh. I mean, it might be hard, and it might require a little, uh, elbow grease.” Here she winked, cocked her head to the side, and made a twisting motion with her hand as if working a tool. “But anything hard is worth doing! Something else I read. At least I think that’s how it goes.”

I knew I had to play this cool. Melody’s chest was rising and falling, her eyes darting around—all the signs of a classic Melody freak-out.

I had to come up with something, and fast.

“It’s not that simple,” I said.

“It’s not?”

“No. It’s…”

Straight-up lying was a skill I’d let get rusty—it came naturally back in school, but the in-your-face yelling of a drill sergeant or two had knocked it out of me. But I had to think of some way to defuse the situation.

“I really need to use the head,” I said. “Mind if I—?” I gestured to the bathroom.

“Oh! Sure, sure. But don’t go running out on me, right?”

She followed this up with a chiming laugh—one that was try-hard chipper enough to make me move closer to the edge of my seat.

“I won’t.”

With that I got up. Fleeing the scene definitely crossed my mind. But the last thing I needed was a full-on-crazy Melody stalking me during the rest of my time in town.

I weaved through the crowd, nodding here and there to the few faces I recognized. Before too long I was in the bathroom. I didn’t have to go, but damn did I need the time to think.

What the hell could I say? What possible excuse could I come up with to get Melody to take the hint and back off?

Nothing came to mind. What I wouldn’t have given in that moment for a touch of the old Josh, the one who could spin up an excuse like it was nothing.

No, I’d have to give it to her straight. Sure, I might end up with a broken wine glass stem in my gut, but that was a risk I was actually willing to take. After splashing a little cold water on my face, I left the bathroom, ready to do what needed to be done.

But on the way out I spotted…her—Cassidy. And she was alone.

With a definite engagement ring on her finger.

A small smile formed on my lips.

I had a plan.

Chapter 2

CASSIDY

Fifteen minutes earlier…

“Come to the bar,” my sister Katie had said. “You’ll have a great time,” she’d said.

Yeah, if being reminded at every turn that you had spent your high-school years totally and completely out of place was a “great time,” then I was definitely having one of those.

I couldn’t believe how crappy I felt. OK, maybe that’s being a touch dramatic, but I definitely didn’t feel good. The scene was a mixture of all of the different social groups in town, from the rich kids who went to Gray Stone Academy to the less-monetarily-endowed, as I liked to refer to the group in which I belonged, who went to Pine Shades High, and everything in between.

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