CHAPTER ONE
NORA
Text conversation with THIRD CHOICE
Yeah, sorry. Not coming. Got way too drnk last night. Not feeling it 2day.
But if you wanna hook up somet ime, you got my number, babe
Not anymore I don’t. [Middle finger emoji.]
I kick the bathroom door in frustration and then swear a blue streak, because damn, that hurt. Probably worse because I’m wearing uncomfortable kitten heels.
Obviously I knew the man whose name I hadn’t bothered writing down last night wasn’t going to be an ideal solution to my problem, but he’d seemed like an acceptable placeholder.
My friend Hannah and I went out last night on a mission to find me a last-minute fake boyfriend for my mother’s wedding, which is being held here.
Not here in my private office bathroom, but in my ginger beer brewery—The Ginger Station. A magical place, whichlooks even more magical today, with the exposed wooden beams covered in fairy lights and miniature roses. We set up the special events room for the ceremony, and the reception is being held in our expansive tasting room. Everything’s ready.
Everything except for my date.
Unfortunately, Hannah and I got a little too drunk last night.Muchtoo drunk.
To be honest, I couldn’t pick THIRD CHOICE out of a lineup. All I know is that choices one and two listened to my looney tunes story and had the sense to bail. So I’d settled for Unlucky Number Three—until about five seconds ago, when he very considerately canceled on me an hour before my mother’s wedding.
Even now, Mom’s having her hair done, along with my aunt and cousin. I opted out, since I was hoping to sort out this whole date mess.
I’m not worried about how Mom will react to my datelessness. My mom’s not one of those mothers who’d shove her daughter down the aisle toward any old loser. She’s raised me to be independent and encouraged me to only share my life with a man who can take care of himself.
But I’m not being histrionic when I say my entire career hinges on me pretending to be in a serious relationship.
Yes, I know how that sounds.
It’s also one hundred percent true.
My friend and business partner, José, and I started The Ginger Station together. We’re a ginger beer brewery that distributes to hundreds of stores and bars around Western North Carolina. It was my dream, and because he believed in it too, it’s now our reality.
Unfortunately, he is engaged to a psychopath.
Pansy can’t stomach the fact that José and I briefly dated. Nothing on heaven and earth can convince her thatI no longer have the slightest intellectual curiosity about his dick. She knows I’ve seen it, and that’s enough to make her hate me forever.
A little jealousy, I could understand, but this woman takes it to new heights. We’re talking cyberstalking and anonymous threatening texts.
But José is convinced she’s an innocent, delicate flower of a woman who’d never do such things. He thinks the texts, which stopped coming months and months ago, were from someone else.
My friend is deluded.
Still, I want to get along so my brewery can continue on. I’d do anything for that.
Which brings me to the real reason I need a date. Ever since Pansy came into his life, José has been pulling away from me and the business, leaving me to wonder about its future. So a couple of months ago I poured him a drink after closing and flat-out asked him if he was on his way out.
He sighed and gripped the edge of the bar, which we’d sanded together years before. He didn’t need to tell me it was a sign of nerves. I’d known him for over a decade.
“I don’t know, Nora,” he finally said. “It’s hard for Pansy, knowing we spend so much time together.”
“What would make her feel better?” I asked tightly, my heart pounding. I was anxious but also furious that my future was going to be decided by a super-hot blonde who loves Bon Jovi so much she has “livin’ on a prayer” tattooed on her inner wrist. Her bad taste in tats wasn’t the problem, though—it was that she’d pussy-whipped my best friend into believing she was the only thing he should want.
She had no friends to speak of, and her whole family lives “out west.” He sees a free spirit; I see a walkingred flag.
