Page 1 of The Wedding Hoax

1

SIMONE

“Did you want your coffee black?” A bored barista was staring back at me, like she desperately wanted to roll her eyes.

“Could I get a splash of almond milk? Or maybe oat milk.” I laughed nervously.

I was starting a new job as a staff writer at LA Now. I’d decided to check out the trendy coffee shop across the street from the building.

Which may have been a total mistake, judging by the barista’s new, annoyed expression. “So, which is it? Almond or oat?”

I smiled. “You know what? I’ll go with the—”

“Can I get the usual, Sandy?” A deep voice was suddenly booming next to me, a sense of command in the stranger’s every word.

I looked over and saw a sharp vision in an even sharper suit. He was tall, with an angular jaw and intense eyes. His dark brown hair was slightly tousled on top in that perfect way guys like him always pulled off.

There was also the matter of just how well he was filling out his suit, his muscles leaving an imprint against the fabric—

Wait.

Did this asshole just cut in front of me?

“Hey!” I chimed into the conversation.

“Oh. Hey.” The stranger seemed almost as annoyed as the barista. “Did you need something?”

“Yeah. I need you to get behind me.”

It took everything in me not to let my cheeks flush at the thought of the stranger actually getting behind me.

“How about I pay for your drink instead?” he suggested with a shrug. “I’ve got places to be this morning, so I’d rather Sandy take care of me first if it’s all the same to you.”

“It’s not all the same to me.” I stood my ground. “The rules apply to everybody, buddy. If we all just start cutting in line because we’re busy, society will break down within months.”

“Really? Months?” He let out a tired sigh. “I was hoping it’d be weeks. Maybe even days.”

And then a small grin crept across his face.

“Jerk.” It was my turn to roll my eyes.

I looked back at Sandy across the counter. “Sandy, could you get that coffee going for me, please? I’ll go with the oat milk.”

“Got it. Coming right up.” Sandy nodded as I tapped my card against the reader. “And don’t call me Sandy. Only the people I like get to call me that.”

“You’re going to like me, Sandy! One day! I promise!” I called out after her as she went toward the back of the coffee shop. “I’m very likable!”

“Clearly.” Mr. Big Shot laughed as he settled in line behind me.

It was the last thing he said to me before Sandy handed us our coffees at the same time. Her face was blank as she gave me my cup, even though she beamed when she handed Mr. Big his to-go coffee.

Of course, he was drowning in female attention.

Even though he was probably too busy to notice.

“Thank you,” I said to Sandy as I took my cup. With slumped shoulders, I carried it to a booth at the back of the coffee shop, tucked away in the corner.

I stared in my cup for a long moment, trying to calm my nerves.

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