Page 5 of The Wedding Hoax

What had I just done?

Was I really going to fake my own wedding just to keep the company?

It didn’t have to be real. All I had to do was hire an actress or a model to pretend to be my fiancée, maybe hire some paparazzi to follow us around, maybe even have them meet my mom and dad—

No.

All of that felt so wrong. And yet, I was running out of options. I was turning forty in two months, and unless I came up with a better idea, all of my work at LA Now was about to go right down the drain.

I couldn’t believe my parents would let my brother take over as CEO. I loved Sean, I really did, but he had no clue what he was doing when it came to running a magazine.

Computers were his scene, not running a magazine or managing people.

Which meant that if I wanted to keep the company, I had no choice but to get married.

Shit.

* * *

“It’s happy hour! Shouldn’t you look, I don’t know, happy?” Paul asked as he slid a shot glass toward me.

We were catching up after work over drinks, a ritual between us ever since I’d hired him as my assistant. Outside of work, Paul was the opposite of formal, with a laid-back vibe and perfectly messy hair. He also dropped the sirs, which was great since otherwise our whole friendship would’ve been super uncomfortable.

“I am happy, Paul. See? Don’t I look happy?” I forced a smile. “I’ve never been happier.”

“Liar.” He laughed. “Seriously, man. What’s up?”

“Nothing.” I lied with a shrug. I didn’t see the point in telling him the truth behind my father’s visit. It wasn’t going to change anything. “Just a rough day at work.”

“As usual.” Paul laughed again. “When are you going to start getting used to these rough days? Because I’m pretty sure those are the only kind of days that CEOs get to have.”

“No, I’m pretty sure they get straight-up bad days, too. And vacation days, in their dreams.”

“They also get the fun option of working through major holidays. I mean, who doesn’t want to clock in on Christmas Day?”

“Sometimes, Paul, I feel like you’re trying to talk me out of my job.”

“Ha! No way. You think I want to be some other guy’s assistant?” He quickly downed the shot in front of him. “I’m just messing with you, man. Sorry you had a rough day.”

“Thanks.”

“Drinking might help,” he said as he nodded down toward my still untouched shot glass.

“I don’t think drinking like a frat boy is going to help anything,” I joked, motioning for the bartender to take my drink. “I’ll have a whiskey, please. Neat.”

“Can you make that two, actually? Both on that guy, right over there.” Taylor pointed toward Paul as she spoke before she appeared between us at the bar.

“Taylor!” Paul happily wrapped his arms around her, then pulled her into a big hug. “Thanks for coming out!”

“Please. You know I’ll always come out for you, Paul.” She beamed. “Although, I hope you don’t mind. I invited a friend out with us tonight.”

“Is she going to kill the vibe?”

“Not on purpose, no.” A familiar voice answered the question with a laugh. “But if I somehow kill the vibe tonight, I accept full responsibility. All apologies in advance.”

Holy shit.

It was her.

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