Page 1 of Billionaire's Fake Plus One

1

“This is so crazy,” My best friend, Rachel says for the millionth time, watching me pack up the rest of my clothes.

“You’re only saying that because you want me to stay in Seattle. As the exceptional lawyer you are, if you really think about it, you’d realize that this is the only decision that makes sense.”

She groans and walks over to me. “I’m going to miss you so much.” She wraps her arms around me in a tight side hug. “Make sure you call me every day. If you eat, I want to know about it!”

I laugh as she moves to help me zip up my suitcase. “I’ll give you daily updates until you’re sick of me.” I promise, lifting the luggage until it’s standing on its squeaky wheels.

“What time is your ferry ticket again?” She follows me out of my bedroom and helps me arrange the storage boxes against the wall.

“Eight am tomorrow. Are you sure about having these in your apartment?” I ask as I stare at the two small storage boxes that comprise the items I’m not willing to sell but can’t take with me.

“For crying out loud, Willow. Yes, I’m sure.” She rolls her eyes. “I barely go there anymore, and after the wedding, I’m moving in with Andrew.” She wriggles her engagement ring in front of me, like I might have somehow forgotten she got engaged to the love of her life a few months ago.

“The wedding isn’t until next year.” I point out sensibly, but Rachel only rolls her eyes again. I chuckle, which I didn’t think was possible when Mom died four weeks ago. My heart clenches tightly, and the smile slowly fades as I remember that terrible day.

“Hey.” Rachel runs a hand down my back in comfort. “I know you have to leave, but I hate that you won’t have a support system on Bainbridge Island. Can’t you put it off for a few more months?”

I shake my head, slowly breathing despite the tightness in my chest. “I can’t Rachel. The mortgage on this house is outrageous, and it doesn’t make sense to continue paying it now that…Mom is gone.” My heart squeezes tight until my entire chest aches fiercely, the way it does whenever I think about or mention Mom. My breath catches and Rachel rubs her hands in circles around my back.

“I already quit my job, so I need to start a new one ASAP if I want to make the next Medicaid payments and pay off the loans I took out to help with her treatments.”

“You know you just need to say the word, and you’ll get your job back right? You’ve worked with Kane and Wilson since you graduated from high school; they’d be willing to pay your way to school if you ask.”

I shake my head slowly. “Law firms only do that if the individual intends to go to law school. I might not be sure about what I want to do now, but I know it’s definitely not becoming a lawyer.”

“Well, being a nanny for the summer gives you plenty of time to find out what you’re passionate about,” Rachel says, infusing a false cheer in her voice.

“Bainbridge Island is only an hour drive; we can still meet up whenever you can come there. And remember, I’m going to be giving you daily updates; you won’t even have the chance to miss me.” I spin around in the living room in a full circle. This place holds so many memories, both happy and sad, but I can’t wait to be free of it.

It’s a bittersweet feeling: a part of me doesn’t want to let it go because it’s the last connection I have to my mother, but at the same time, I need out. I’ve had a constant migraine these past few weeks from a lack of sleep. Whenever I close my eyes, my heart starts pounding and my ears become alert, listening for her footsteps, her sweet voice calling out to me, or just the sounds of movement in her room next door that lets me know she’s up and about.

Tears sting the back of my lids, and I blink rapidly, not wanting to cry again. I’ve fallen apart so many times in Rachel’s arms, and I don’t want our last day in the same city to include me crying on her shoulder again. She’s being such a rock. I can’t imagine how I would have survived the heartache without her.

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Rachel says sternly. “You know you’re the only friend I have. It’s bad enough that you’re leaving me, so don’t go radio silent too. I want to hear all about the girls you’re nannying.”

I walk further into the living room and sink into the couch. “What time is the party? It can’t run too late into the night, Rachel. I have to wake up early tomorrow, and I need my beauty sleep so I won’t wake up grumpy.”

She gasps dramatically. “How do you know about that?”

“How do I say this…” I begin delicately, drawing out my words. “You don’t have a discreet bone in your body, babe. You’ve been acting so suspicious at work, being all jumpy and shifty.”

She unwinds her scarf from her neck and flings it at me playfully. “I kept mine and Andrew’s relationship a secret from you, didn’t I?”

“For all of one week,” I taunt and squeal when she picks up the book on the coffee table I haven’t gotten around to packing because I’m reading it. “For the love of God, do not throw that book at me, Rachel! Not my precious book, please.”

She growls, dropping the book and coming at me. I jump up from the couch and run around it, raising my hands up. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Don’t go all hulk on me.”

She flips her blonde hair over her shoulders with an arrogant humph, then sashays away. I let out a breath of relief, but then she runs at me, jumping over the couch like an Olympic athlete to tackle me to the floor. I let out a scream as she tickles me mercilessly. I writhe, trying to dislodge her from me, while giggling and hiccupping helplessly. Save to say, I don’t get anywhere, so I change tactics.

“P-please, Rachel. I’m s-so-sorry!” I plead, stuttering because of my incessant hiccupping, tears streaming down my cheeks from how hard I’m laughing.

“Will you question how discreet I am again?” she asks, still tickling me.

“Never!” I scream. She finally stops and jumps off me. “You’re ruthless,” I moan, raising a hand to cover my face.

“Whatever. The party starts at six, two short hours away, so we need to start getting ready now. And you better act surprised when we get there.” She flounces to my bedroom, but stops to add, “And the reason you know isn’t because I’m not discreet, it’s because you’re nosy. You always have to know everything.”

---