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I would’ve quit RJ Conglomerates a long time ago if I wasn’t putting my younger sister, Ada, through college. This job may leach the life out of a person, but it pays very well.
Ada graduated last spring, found a great job and an even better boyfriend, and I made the last student loan payment in October.
It’s time for me to focus on myself.
Five months’ pay?
Every rational neuron in my brain is telling me to refuse, but right now, my plans are a little sketchy. My friend Sian, who manages Perkin’ Beans, our neighborhood cafe, offered me a job as a barista, as well as a room in her small apartment above the café, while I hunt for a husband and a better-paying position—notas an executive assistant. I eagerly accepted both. The faster I can get out of here and start my new life, the better, and that money will come in handy.
My mind is reeling.
“To clarify, you want me to attend your family’s holiday events with you as your devoted fiancée, and in return, I will receive a glowing reference from you and five months’ severance pay?”
I threw in that glowing reference part, but hell, I deserve it.
“I’ll make it eight months,” he offers.
Holy crap! He’s desperate. “This one thing and I’m done? You’ll wave whatever’s left of my two weeks’ notice?”
“This one thing and you’re done.”
It goes against my better judgment.
We’ll be in close quarters pretending to be intimately involved. I really should refuse. For two reasons. One, he’s a jerk. Two, my body doesn’t care how undesirable his personality is, she’s all about his tight butt, flat abs, and dark, penetrating gaze.
Yep, it’s an awesome offer, but it’s way too far-fetched for someone like me. I’m prudent. Reserved.
I open my mouth to decline but, to my great surprise, what tumbles out is, “I’ll do it.”
Chapter3
Izzy
I head to the break room in a daze. What in the world did I agree to? I need my head examined.
Popping a pod in the machine, I stand palming my forehead as I watch my coffee brew.
“Delicious cookies, Izzy,” Justin from accounting says as he shoves an entire shortbread into his mouth and palms a few gingerbreads. “I take it you made them yourself?”
“Of course she made them herself,” Britney, our receptionist, says. “She’s our resident Suzie Homemaker.”
From any other woman around here, that might be an insult, but I know Britney doesn’t mean it that way. Besides, I’m not ashamed of my cooking skills.
“Girl, you could totally make a career as a chef or a baker with your talent.”
“Agreed,” Justin says around a mouthful of cookie. “But we’d miss her around here.”
“Your stomach would miss me, you mean,” I tease.
“Same thing.”
I haven’t yet told them that I’m leaving the company. I’m not exactly sure how to tell them, and to be honest, I expected—okay, Ihoped—Mr. Steele would put up at least a little bit of resistance.
“Oh, by the way, I took a phone message for you.” Britney places a couple of peppermint tassies on a napkin as she prepares her tea. “It’s on your desk. A Tiana Cole from Childsplay Group Home. Something about a toy delivery.”
She’s been trying to get a hold of me. Tiana Cole has left a couple of voicemails, and frankly, I’ve been ignoring her. I think she’s looking for a donation, and I’m not the one who handles charitable donations, so I haven’t returned her call.
Coffee mug in hand, I head to my desk, which is where I usually take my breaks, and return the first call on my list. My sister answers on the second ring.
