Chapter 3
IVY
I’m running late and to make matters worse, BB has gone full-onCujo,attacking some yummy, I-wear-my-designer-suit-well-and-I-know-you-want-me type of guy.
“Um, doesthisbelong to you?” He holds up his leg, BB dangling, hanging on for dear life, her teeth clinging to the cuff of Designer Suit Man’s pants.
The way he refers to my sweet baby pooch as athis, almost makes me want to go allCujo-mad-dog, too. But instead, I calmly free my pup from his pants. “Her name is BB,” I huff out, then force a smile. “Sorry, I truly thought she was over attacking men in suits.”
My half-smirk disappears when the crease-browed expression on his face shows me it’s clear my sense of humor has sailed way over his head. “Thatshould be on a leash.” He flicks his chin at my precious baby, who simply barks two times at him in response.
That’s right, BB.You tell him, girl.
“Again, her name is BB, and you’re absolutely right about the leash. She’s usually in here”—I place Bruiser Bloom into my purse—“but she jumped out of the Uber car faster than I could grab her.”
Designer Suit’s gaze gives me a scrutinizing once-over as if he’s taking in my mere existence, then he advances through the double doors of the glass high-rise. I inspect the numbers on the building’s facade, making sure it’s where I’m supposed to be, since the last time I met with Holly, was at her office in Burbank.
8733 Sunset Blvd. Yep, this is the right place.
Now in the building, I pace only a few steps behind, who I’ll now refer to as Stuck-Up Guy, high-stepping my way toward the elevator. The sound of my heels click-clacking along the tile echoes throughout and Stuck-Up Guy peers over his shoulder as though he’s wondering why I’m following him.
We both pause in front of the elevators and he presses the call button, staring at the high-vaulted, gold-plated ceiling, making it more than obvious he’s trying to avoid any eye contact with me.
I stand, tapping the ball of my high heel on the tile, hummingWe Wish You A Merry Christmas,which happened to be the last song the Uber driver was playing.
There are four elevator doors, and I silently pray all open simultaneously so I don’t have to step onto the same elevator as Stuck-Up Guy.
Admittedly, he’s pretty wonderful-looking. Tall, with the kind of dark hair my fingers would love to trail through during a steamy make-out session, eyes the vivid color of glimmering emeralds, and a stance that commands attention. He’s probably someone who works in one of the top-floor executive suites.
The sound of the elevator’s sharp ping pulls me out of my daydreamy-like condition and, of course, only one door slides open.
I internally grimace.Lovely.
But at least Stuck-Up Guy displays a gentlemanesque quality by motioning me to embark onto the elevator first.
Once onboard, we both claim opposite sides of the elevator as if it’s our own sacred spot and press button thirteen—his hands in his purposely-creased pant pockets, my fingers clenched to the oversized purse where I feel BB squirming about.
He clears his throat and glances at his fancy watch while I suddenly feel ill. What if Mr. Wonderful-Looking Stuck-Up Guy is…
I shake my head, chasing away that notion because, well, my luck isn’t that bad.
When the elevator crawls open at a snail’s pace, we exit and step straight ahead to a double-doored entryway marked,My Fake Fiancé: Where Make-Believe Looks Real.
My heart thumps a bit faster.
A single bead of sweat dances across my forehead.
Why ishewalking into My Fake Fiancé?
“Hello, do you two have an appointment?” The bright-eyed, sleek-haired lady behind the receptionist desk looks up to me, then up to Stuck-Up Guy.
“I do.”
We both pass one another a scowling eye after we offer her that same reply in eerie unison.
The receptionist chuckles. “Right. Well, have a seat. Make yourselves comfy. Holly will be out shortly.”
Two leather couches face each other in the center of the quaint lobby. I sit down on one and he sits on the other. BB sticks her nose out and sniffs like she’s trying to assess whether or not there are any bad guys for her to harass. She’s as overprotective as they come, and since I’ve had the little diva since she was a puppy, protecting me like I’m the most important person in her world seems to be her main goal in life.
