Page 13 of One Week Wingman

I roll over, wishing I could conjure him out of thin air. LikeWeird Scienceor some other teenage fantasy. Or order him online. UberEats for fake boyfriends.Postdates.

Wait a minute.

I sit up fast. Didn’t my boss, Charlie, hire a fake date? It’s how he met his partner, Grace. He had a whole summer of weddings to attend, and hired her to be his plus-one, from some super-secret agency his cousins runs. Charlie and Grace fell madly in love, of course, but that’s not the point.

The point is, the service exists…

… For a whole lot of money.

Dammit. I sink back down again, disappointed. I’m not about to blow my savings on a fake date for the week, not when I have my eye on a vintage Fender Telecaster guitar. Plus, I need someone now. Preferably before Jason shows up for dinner. Even if I had the cash to pay this agency, I doubt they could find someone within the hour who would get with the program and play along. I’d need someone who loves theatrics, is wildly charming, and seems like the perfect catch…

And then I realize… I know exactly who fits the bill.

Sebastian Wainwright.

I laugh out loud, just imagining the suave British playboy let loose in Ashford Falls.

I couldn’t… Could I?

But now the idea is in my mind, I can’t get it out. He said he owed me one. In fact, he owes me way more than that for all the times I’ve bailed him out of a morning-after jam. And since I pretended to be his girlfriend the other day, it makes perfect sense for him to return the favor.

If anyone can pull off playing the perfect Stefano—and have fun doing it—it’s Seb.

I’m already smiling as I dial his number. “Sebastian? I know how you can repay that debt.”

4

SEBASTIAN

“You want me to do what?”I repeat in amusement.

“Be my fake boyfriend,” Roxy pleads on the other end of the line, “Just for a couple of days.”

I have to laugh. “Are you joking right now?” I ask. Flynn raises an eyebrow, and I shake my head, smiling. We’re checking out the building he just bought down the street from Mavericks, taking a look at his renovation plans.

At least we were, until Roxy called me up with this curveball.

I step out to the hallway. “I know it’s crazy,” Roxy continues, her voice edged with the faintest hint of panic. “But you owe me.”

“I owe you a drink,” I correct her, amused. “Perhaps even dinner. I’ll spring for some chips when you get back in town. Excuse me,” I add, translating to American English. “Fries.”

“Please, Seb, I’m begging you,” Roxy’s panic dials up a notch. “I can’t do this on my own! It’s not just the reunion. I found out my sister is dating my ex. The first guy I ever loved!”

“Ouch.” I wince. “Not ideal. Still, I’m not quite sure where I come into this sordid little drama.”

“Imayhave invented a fake boyfriend, to keep them off my case.” Roxy admits.

I laugh. “You didn’t!”

“I did. Stefano. And now I need you to come play at being him. Please? Pretty please?”

I pause. It sounds like a hoot, but with the way she’s been talking about this hometown reunion of hers, it could turn out to be a disaster.

“Sorry, darling. You made your bed…” I say, quoting her own line right back at her. “Even if it is fictional.”

Roxy groans, and I’d be lying if I said the sound doesn’t send blood rushing south. I’m only human. And she is one spectacular woman. But as much as I sympathize with her predicament—families can be a lot—I’ve got a busy week planned of work, and play. I don’t have the time to drive out to Smalltown USA and pretend to be this fake boyfriend of hers. “Sorry,” I tell her. “But good luck.”

“If I develop a drinking problem and self-esteem issues this week, it’s all your fault,” she grumbles.

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