Fake Fiancé (A Second Chance Office Romance) Read online

  Fake Fiancé

  Amy McKinley

  Arrowscope Press, LLC

  Fake Fiancé

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  Copyright © 2020 Amy McKinley

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  Previously published in Sinful Secrets: A Contemporary Romance Box Set.

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  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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  (p) ISBN-13: 978-1-951919-85-6

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  (e) ISBN-13: 978-1-951919-83-2

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  Publisher: Arrowscope Press, LLC; www.arrowscopepress.com

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  Editing—Taylor Anhalt

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  Cover Design—T.E. Black Designs; www.teblackdesigns.com

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  Author photo provided by—Brookelyn Anhalt of lovely.life.photography; https://www.facebook.com/LovelyLifePhotography-102253596490708

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  Interior Formatting & Design— Arrowscope Press, LLC; www.arrowscopepress.com

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Amy McKinley

  Chapter 1

  Adeline

  A sense of heaviness hung in the air as I sat at the small folding table my best friend Eileen had set up for the psychic. I waited in silence across from her, shifting in my chair, unsure what to do as this was my first time meeting, let alone talking to, a medium. We’d already exchanged hellos, and I wasn’t about to offer up any details about who I was. Instead, I passed the awkwardness by studying the woman before me.

  Long waves of black hair surrounded a face of indiscernible age. I couldn’t pinpoint it—twenty-eight, thirty-five, or older? Small laugh lines framed eyes and mouth set in an olive-toned face that maintained a youthful quality, but her eyes—those were ancient.

  Downstairs, the sound of music and laughter from the small party in our sorority house carried on. That was where I wanted to be—enjoying the excitement of a carefree night with my friends, celebrating all we’ve accomplished. Instead I was upstairs sitting across from a woman I didn’t know, who was supposed to connect me to people who had passed. I fought the urge to twist a lock of my hair and instead twined my fingers in my lap. I didn’t know why I was so nervous.

  It was supposed to be fun.

  Chills ran up and down my spine as she leaned forward, her bracelets clinking. Mysterious obsidian eyes reflected something otherworldly that I couldn’t define or understand. I wanted to rub my arms but clasped my hands tight instead. Electricity charged the air, and all the fine hairs on my body stood on end.

  I wasn’t having fun.

  Seconds ticked by, then on an inhaled breath, she slowly blinked, a soft smile curving her full red lips upward. “Adeline, interesting name.” Her gaze turned introspective. “Your mother is with us.”

  I fought the urge to stand up and walk away. But the fact that she knew something about my mom kept me in my seat. I craved hearing anything about her, even if this entire thing wasn’t real. I missed her terribly.

  “She says she named you appropriately. Someone in your family tree had the name Adeline, but she died… at sea.” Her eyes remained unfocused, and she tilted her head as if listening to someone whisper in her ear.

  “I don’t understand what you’re saying. I’m supposed to die at sea?” As I waited for her answer, I shifted in my chair, unsure what to think. Mom had been into our family history before she passed, but I wasn’t. I barely remembered who that person was that shared my name. I’d thought Mom just liked it.

  “No, nothing like that. Your mother says she’s proud of you.”

  I jumped as the psychic’s voice pierced my thoughts of Mom. Proud of me. That was something I knew, and it was rather generic. My skepticism returned in full.

  Mom died years ago from cancer, leaving my father and me to figure out our suddenly strained relationship. Not going to lie and say it was easy—it was anything but. Promises were made before Dad, too, passed away.

  A soft smile curved the psychic’s face. “She says she has no regrets.”

  Maybe. My parents were happy, blissfully so, despite the hard times, lack of money, and failing business. “But you gave up being a model when you met Dad. You were on a path for success.” I couldn’t help it. I spoke as if Mom could hear me. I wanted to believe she could.

  “She says, ‘That wasn’t the life I wanted. I wanted a family. There wasn’t a day that I regretted marrying the love of my life. But you, my darling daughter, have a different path. Follow it and find your happy.’”

  Even said in the medium’s voice, that would have been something my mom would have said. Chills danced along my bare arms, and I wished I’d worn something over my threadbare “I run because I really like beer” T-shirt. Emotions were too close to the surface, and tonight I didn’t want to succumb to them. I was starting out on a new adventure, and so were my friends. Mom was right, even though leaving was bittersweet, I wanted to “find my happy.” I didn’t feel as if it was here.

  Relaxing back, I decided not to take myself seriously. The experience should be at least interesting, even if I weren’t having a great time. I gave the woman a slight nod. And really, I wasn’t positive I believed in what she was saying, part of me thought it could be my deep desire to connect to my mom, to hear her words and feel her presence, even if only for a few minutes.

  The rational side of my brain rejected that this woman could actually connect with the dead. As for the medium knowing my name, Eileen must have told her, no big deal. She could’ve researched all of us at the party on the internet and learned that my mom died.

  “She’s insisting you follow your heart, that you need to leave the area.”

  “Why?” I couldn’t resist. I’d planned to skip town on the heels of my college graduation, which was tomorrow. There wasn’t anything holding me here. Not Tommy, that was for sure—despite the plans he had for us.

  The woman tilted her head, her gaze once again turning inward, and a faraway look eased the lines in her face, taking years off her thirty-something appearance. “The neighbor isn’t the one. She says your father is with her and regrets pushing you. She’s pointing to…” Her eyes sharpened, and my back snapped straight. “You’re a designer? No, that’s not what she meant. There’s an inn and a man that owns it. You’re to go there.”

  “I’m flying out the morning after graduation. Did Eileen tell you this?” My voice held an edg
e of skepticism I couldn’t hide. Business tycoon Stone Crenshaw recently bought a hotel in Italy, expanding his New York-based business to Europe, and I’d applied for the position of executive assistant. With my multiple summer jobs, helping my dad on the office end of his construction company, business degree and internship experience through another of Stone’s hotels, I was qualified. And apparently, he was desperate.

  Thanks to my sorority connections, I was able to get pushed to the top of the application list and recommended by his current assistant, and sorority alumna. Again, the psychic could have heard about this from anyone in my sorority.

  The medium smiled and tapped the table with a long copper-painted nail. “You will have success there, in time.” She tilted her head to the left—her go-to move before she dropped something weird on me—her dark eyes narrowed, and the smile fell away. “Wait.”

  A frown deepened the grooves around her mouth, and my heart skipped a beat. I toyed with the Saint Valentine pendant worn on a silver chain around my neck. The “in time” comment about my success concerned me a little. Obstacles weren’t unusual, but I was determined. I would change my lot in life. I would not be destitute like my parents or trapped as my mother was to a man she loved so much she gave up her budding career. She’d always said she didn’t regret it, but I think a part of her had. Why couldn’t she have had both the man she loved as well as a career?

  “There is another here.” The room chilled. “So insistent.”

  I swore the air crackled with electricity while phantom fingertips danced along my arms, and I shivered.

  She shook her head. “Hmm. He’s agitated. I can’t quite understand him. But this name, it’s important. Cristiano Santoro.” Her brows scrunched, and she leaned forward slightly. “Oh… your mom is back. She’s adamant that you look him up.”

  A wave of sadness washed over me, the likes of which I hadn’t felt since we buried my mom. That name. Tears formed and rolled in rapid succession down my cheeks. Dammit. Either his name had triggered me or the continued talk about my mom as if the medium actually saw her.

  I swiped the wetness from my face and shoved the unwanted and unexplained feelings aside as best as I could. Strangest few minutes of my life. The pressure in the room eased. Another of my sisters noisily came up the stairs and leaned against the doorjamb. The medium flashed me a smile before her focus shifted away from me. I thanked her and slipped past Monica, my sorority sister, who was anxious for her turn.

  I made my way back to the main room and shed the odd sense of déjà vu, welcoming the rather loud music that poured from the stereo in the corner. Josie handed me a drink as I stepped off the last stair. I spotted Eileen near the back wall, sitting on the couch with Lauren. When Eileen saw me, a shriek shattered the last of my tension before she launched herself off the cushions at me.

  Laughing, I returned her hug before she pulled back, squeezing my shoulders. “So? How was it? What did she say?”

  I plastered a smile on my face, determined not to ruin this for her. She’d set it up with me in mind, even though it was an event for all our sisters. She knew I was missing Mom so much more after Dad passed six months ago. It’d been a tough semester. “It was…” I couldn’t help it. I had to know. “Did you tell her about my mom? Or that I was leaving after graduation?” Not everyone knew, and I’d thought Eileen had kept that information to herself. I was supposed to share my news about the job with them tonight, after the psychic finished. Maybe Eileen had told one of the other girls in the house.

  “Nothing. She knows the first name of each one of us like what’s on the sign-up sheet, and that’s it.” Her brows furrowed, and her fingers tightened on my shoulders as worry pulled her features taut. “I haven’t told anyone that you’re leaving the day after tomorrow.”

  “Maybe it was Tiffany then.” That was the name of the alum sorority sister I’d contacted about the job. She was a few years older than us, had graduated four years ago, and worked in the position that I’d be taking over for Stone Crenshaw.

  Eileen shrugged. “Maybe? But I don’t think so. Everyone here wants the time to be about them. I don’t think they’re even thinking about what you’ll be doing next.” Her mouth compressed in a thin line. “Why? Did she tell you something about your new job?”

  “Sort of.” Pulling out my phone, I typed the name she’d given me into my notes app to check out later. “Not much. My destiny is supposed to be there, whatever that means.”

  “Ohh, what if you meet the man of your dreams? I mean, it is the city of love.” A hopeless romantic, Eileen flashed me a wide grin while her shoulders shook in silent laughter. She knew I didn’t share her fairy-tale views. “Maybe you’ll find your very own Romeo in Verona—the place where Romeo and Juliet were.”

  “Shut your mouth. And their relationship ended in tragedy. I would have to be crazy to wish for that. Besides, you know my goal is a career. No man will distract me from achieving that.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Not what I meant. I wasn’t referring to Tommy, but a real romance, minus the tragedy. You don’t need a linebacker hinging his football success on you being present at his games. You did break it off with him, right?”

  I bit my lip thinking about the best way to answer her. “Yes. I told him the other day.”

  Eileen narrowed her eyes. “How did you tell him?”

  Crap. “In text.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “What did you expect me to do? He never listens to me when I tell him I don’t want to be together. I gave him back the ring, and this way it’s in writing. He can revisit what I’d said. Besides, I’ll be gone soon. It’ll all work out.”

  “If you say so.” Eileen shrugged. “Back to Italy and your prospects there. What I’m not talking about is Romeo and Juliet—but the fact that you’ll be working alongside a gorgeous man.” She nudged my shoulder. “And with this to-die-for, long silvery-blond hair, those eyes, and your rack…” Her finger circled the air between us and wiggled to include all of me. “Well the whole drop-dead package, he won’t know what hit him.” She glanced at my gym shoe-clad feet. “We better have you practice walking in heels.”

  I snorted at her absurd description and worked to shake off the cloak of anger that’d settled around me at the mention of my looks and meeting a man. Just the idea of using my appearance at the new job to land a husband reminded me too much of my father’s outdated opinion and Tommy’s pressure to get married before the NFL draft. We weren’t even dating anymore. It wasn’t real. I sighed, regret heavy in the knowledge that Tommy had followed me around like a puppy for our entire high school experience, then college, in a relentless pursuit.

  We’d dated, sure, but I wasn’t all that serious about taking the relationship any further than having fun at college. There was something missing. That spark I’d expected to feel and I know he hadn’t experienced it either. And then later, when Dad fell ill… I’d only pretended Tommy and I were solid to my dad so he didn’t leave this world worrying about me. But the truth was, I didn’t need someone to take care of me. I’d been doing that ever since Mom died five years ago. Tommy had other ideas about that, and when he’d dropped to a knee beside Dad’s hospital bed, I couldn’t steal the pure joy that lit up Dad’s gray features. Outside the hospital room, I’d set Tommy straight. I wasn’t marrying him.

  As to my looks? Eileen was high. Even though I sort of understood her point. I was young, and people were weird. But I wasn’t anything special. Average. With my hair secured in a bun and professional clothes, no one would spare me a second glance. College was a cesspool of horny guys. It would be different in a business environment. I was sure of it. As for the heels comment, she may be on to something there. I never wore them.

  “Let’s get a drink.” Distracting Eileen from her happily-ever-after fantasies would be easy with the mention of partying together.

  She bounced on her toes, her curls mimicking each movement. “Yes! I’m so glad you decided to h
ang with us one last time before you go.”

  I rolled my eyes. “So much drama.”

  Eileen linked our elbows as we made our way over to the bottles of beer and wine. “You love that about me.”

  Debatable. But I would do just about anything for her. I shook off any lingering negative thoughts. Tonight wasn’t for dwelling on the baggage I carried with me. I would leave it behind when I boarded my flight at the crack of dawn the day after we graduated, heading toward the future I wanted for myself. This time was about having fun with my best friend and sisters. They mattered. And after tomorrow, I’d finally be free to live the life I craved.

  Chapter 2

  Stone

  After spending most of the night tossing and turning, sleep came in the early morning hours. Slumber’s smothering embrace held me tight, dragging me into a dream that had replayed often since my arrival in Verona. A time long gone eclipsed the present, and I stepped into the life of another, no longer the hotel owner, but a busboy living with his father in the basement of this very building.

  My arms laden with guests’ luggage, I sidestepped a group of people checking into the hotel. My father was employed here, too, and happy with his lot in life. I was not. My dreams were bigger. This place, although extravagant, was not how I wanted to exist—fetching and carrying things for people with a better station than mine. One day, I vowed to make my fortune. I’d toyed with the idea of owning an inn. Perhaps not as grand as this one, but a successful business nonetheless.