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“Whatever it is, Myla, we are here for you. What’s wrong?” Avery asked as Myla meekly made her way back to the table.
“Two years ago, I told my parents I met a guy. Over the course of those two years, he has turned into my fiancé and now he is a lawyer with his own firm. Now my sister is getting married next week and the invitation is for both of us.”
She heard a shriek of laughter and she lifted her head to see her friends in hysterics. “Oh, my God, Myla! That’s some fucking elaboration. What the hell are you going to do?” Avery laughed.
Myla sat and shrugged as she picked at the hem of her top uncomfortably. “Haven’t they wanted to meet him before?” Cass asked through tears of laughter.
“They have, but I’ve always made excuses. Now I’ve run out. I must go to this wedding and I have no fiancé. What am I going to do?”
“My brother would do it,” Cass suggested with a raised eyebrow.
“No, thank you. With a buzz cut and tattoos, he’d hardly pass for a lawyer now, would he?” Myla argued. Anger was starting to boil in the pit of her stomach and her face became heated as they continued to smirk and titter at her admittance. “It’s not funny, you pair of witches,” Myla snapped. She felt the sharp sting of tears at the back of her eyeballs.
“I’ve got it!” Cass said jumping to her feet and slamming her palm on the table. “Advertise on the Shot’s site for a fake fiancé.”
“Are you bloody serious?” Myla gasped clutching her throat in despair.
“Why not? I’ve had loads of fun on dates through that site. I’ve been the date of many bachelors who have needed a quick fix. Advertise for two days, then meet each one who replies and pick the best of the bunch.” Cass beamed as she sat back down.
“I can’t do that. I’m not that desperate!”
“It’s your only option at such short notice. What do you have to lose?” She challenged as she grabbed Myla’s laptop from the floor and passed it over the table.
Firing it to life, Myla made her way to the Shots site and signed up. Taking a deep breath for courage, her fingers hovered over the keys.
“Do it Myla, you never know, you may find your dream man.” Avery encouraged, with a nudge and a wink in her direction.
Swallowing hard, she let her fingers glide along the keyboard.
In need: A fake Fiancé for one week.
A fake Fiancé is required for a professional business owner who has no time to date.
Successful applicant must be free next week, commencing Monday 23rd.
All expenses will be paid to Florida and accommodations will be provided.
Must have some legal knowledge, must dress to impress and act like I’m the woman of your dreams.
If you are interested in helping this damsel in distress, please apply below. I will be in touch shortly, and further details will be provided.
Reading it aloud to her friends, they both smiled and nodded in unison. “Perfect Myla.” Avery said.
“What do I do now?” Myla asked, turning to look at Cass with an expectant look.
“Now babe, you sit and wait for the men to come flocking.” She smiled encouragingly.
Pressing the submit button, her eyes bulged in her head as she watched her advert go from red to green. It slowly sunk in that her advert had become live.
Shit. What have I done?
CHAPTER THREE
Baxter’s was a family run cocktail bar situated in Chelsea, London. It had been in the family for twenty years and was famous for its shirtless barmen. The women who frequented the place would go insanely wild when they put on their show, which consisted of throwing shakers of alcohol and mixers into the air, catching them and bouncing them across the floor to one another, with the finale being twenty glasses of mixed cocktails adorning the bar top in a long line. The whole routine lasted exactly three minutes and was performed on the hour, every hour. The revelers loved it. Tonight though, Kai wasn’t feeling it.
“What’s up dude? You’ve had a face like a wet lettuce all night,” Rhys quizzed.
“Don’t you ever get bored of this? The same thing, night after night.”
