Page 1 of The Fake Dating Plan

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Desperation. It made you do stupid things like go to the person who hates you and beg on your knees for crumbs because you have no other option. That’s what I was about to do now. It could be the biggest mistake of my life, or it could be something that would change it for the better. Whichever it was, those were the two options I faced while I was in the lobby of my ex-boyfriend’s office.

“Mr. Reid will see you now,” the woman said. I jolted up in surprise. An act that almost made me drop my laptop and my well-outlined business plan. I had waited in the lobby for hours and expected to be told he was out or no longer not taking visitors. I had watched as people went in and came out, waiting for my turn. When it came, I felt even less prepared. My mind went blank as I followed the sleek blond woman, whom I assumed was his assistant, as she went to open the giant frosted glass doors. She led me into a sleek contemporary office with black-and-white marble furnishings. Behind a huge abstract-shaped desk, directly in my line of sight, sat the man I came to see. Axel Reid. He looked deep in concentration over whatever he was doing on his laptop, which allowed me to take in his appearance without him noticing I was staring.

He looked just as I remembered, if not older. His dark brown hair was perfectly combed, except for a few wisps that fell over his forehead. He wore a crisp white shirt that accentuated, rather than hide, a powerful set of biceps.

“Mr. Reid,” the woman said, “your four o’clock is here.”

He nodded without looking up. I remained standing as the woman went outside and closed the door. Leaving me with him. My pulse increased as I recognized how big this moment was. I had to get the investment, no matter what. Or watch my pride-and-joy sold off to some mega-corp. Or worse, become Heron’s mistress. I cringed at the thought.

“Are you waiting for me to tell you to take a seat?” he said again, eyes glued to the monitor. I shuffled my feet forward and sank into one of the two chairs opposite the desk. I placed my laptop and purse on the other chair. The business plan I laid on the desk. Deep breath in, deep breath out. That did nothing to calm my nerves. If anything, they shot up.

“So,” he said, flicking his laptop shut, clasping his hands together, and staring right back at me, “to what do I owe this pleasure?”

I hadn’t forgotten how handsome he was in person, but I didn’t expect him to still be this magnetic. His chiseled bone structure was so symmetrical, the urge to capture it with a pencil and paper bubbling up to the surface. And those eyes. His blue eyes were so piercing I felt compelled to hold his gaze. My thoughts couldn’t help but wonder to a simpler time when—

I cleared my throat. I didn’t know where to start. Sorry? I know you hate me, but hey I was in the neighborhood? They all sounded too trivial, too familiar. “How are you?”

He leaned back in his chair. “Great, as you can see.” He gave me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. That’s when I realized he was curious. He wanted to know first why I’m here before he could plunge the dagger. Throw me out of his office building and onto the curb. Only he had no idea how desperate I was. I was ready to beg. I was beyond embarrassed.

“That’s great. And your family, how are they?”

“They are all fine. Why are you here Emilia?”

Straight to the point then. His apparent exasperation didn’t bode well for me. “I have,” I extended the business plan to him, “a proposition for you.”

He took the plan but didn’t open it. His gaze never strayed from my face. “Go on.”

You can do this. You’ve got this. “My company…” I cleared my throat. My mouth felt drier and my shoes felt tighter. “Steel Cute is a jewelry business that is trendy with millennials and gen-z. We’ve been operating for five years and growing, but we are now looking for a ten-million-dollar investment from you. If you look at the business plan,” he didn’t look at the business plan. He kept staring at me. “You’ll see that Steel Cute is a profitable business. We mostly operate online and currently have one store in New York, but we plan on extending to other cities. We also have contracts with…”

He started laughing. I could feel my cheeks heat when he did so. “Wow. You want money from me?”

“An investment.”

“This is so rich. Look at the balls on you!”

“It would be a…” my voice faltered. This was a mistake. Of course, he was going to react like this. Years later, and it was clear he had not forgiven me. That long wait in the lobby was probably to toy with me, as I suspected. “I’m sorry,” I said, trying to gather my composure, “I shouldn’t have come.” I was never good at begging, anyway. I gathered my things and got ready to get out of here while my dignity was still intact. This was my second to last resort. The final one being taking Heron’s proposition. It wouldn’t be so bad. I mean, it was just sex, after all. I cringed at the thought.

“Why are you here?” he said. I paused from my packing.

“What do you mean?”

“Why come to me after all this time? Surely you have other friends who could help.”

I suppressed my laughter. “None with your kind of money.”

“What about Chad? Isn't he a VC like his father? I thought he would—”

“We never dated. We never—”

“Nine years later and you expect me to still believe that lie.”

I wanted to say it’s not a lie, but the rage that cracked through his impassive mask when I opened my mouth to speak made me reconsider. “You’re the only one who can help.”

He took the plan and flipped it open once, glanced at it, and closed it. “I’m sure many venture capitalists are willing to take your business on if it’s as profitable as you say it is.”

Should I tell him the truth? It was all or nothing. What did I have to lose at this point? “I need a buyout and the current investor is making it difficult.”

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