Page 10 of The Bad Boy's Fake Wife

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After what feels like an eternity of debating Reed’s ridiculous idea, I need a break. Later, at Mia’s café—my sanctuary when the world feels too tight—I sink into a booth. Mia greets me warmly. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages! And we barely talked after Jonathan interrupted us a few days ago.”

I groan. “Don’t mention him, Mia, or I might really have to murder him.”

Mia chuckles. “You’ve only been back a few days, and he already has you all riled up. What’s up?”

I shrug. “Long story. Do you have something strong for me to drink?”

“Like a triple-shot espresso?” she offers.

“Stronger—something that’ll make me forget Jonathan for a minute,” I tease.

Mia gasps. “This is a café, not a bar!”

“Fine, then make it the strongest coffee you’ve got,” I mumble.

After a moment’s thought, Mia smiles. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Watching her craft my drink, I think about Reed’s absurd proposal and how ludicrous it all sounds. A fake marriage? Tying my name to Jonathan’s? The mere idea makes me shudder. It’s too much to handle by myself, so as Mia makes my drink, I explain the ridiculous situation, expecting her to immediately tell me it’s a terrible idea.

Mia catches my troubled gaze when I’m done speaking, and she doesn’t look as horrified as I expected. “Will you help him out, or say no because the thought of being married to Jonathan makes you want to run?”

I lean forward. “I honestly can’t imagine a world where I’m tied to him, even if it’s pretend.”

Mia’s smile softens. “I know you, Emma. You’d say no if you weren’t curious. Sometimes you just need to embrace your curiosity.”

I roll my eyes. “Mia, that’s as cryptic as Reed’s schemes. I guess I’ll have to figure it out myself.”

Before long, I leave the café with a decision forming in my mind. It’s absurd—but maybe, just maybe, this farce will spark the inspiration I’ve been desperately seeking.

I take out my phone and call Jonathan. When he doesn’t answer, I grab my bag and head for the bus to his office.

The towering building looms large—a stark contrast to the small-town charm of Grover Hill. Inside, the lobby is intimidating: modern, austere, with furniture that seems almost alive. I swallow hard and approach the receptionist’s desk.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for Jonathan’s office,” I say.

The woman in a sleek pencil skirt barely glances up from her phone. “And you are…?”

“Emma,” I reply.

She rolls her eyes. “Look, miss, I’m not paid to show people around here. You don’t exactly belong.”

I glance down at my worn jeans and plaid shirt, suddenly hyperaware of every scuff on my shoes and the judgmental gaze of the receptionist. Maybe I don’t belong here after all. “Just point me to Jonathan’s office, and maybe I won’t mention how rude you were.”

She laughs. “Who do you think you are?”

Before I can reply, a familiar presence fills the space behind me—close, too close. Then Jonathan’s voice cuts through the air, smooth and authoritative. A shiver runs down my spine as my pulse stutters, my body betraying me before I can steel myself.

Chapter 6

Jonathan

“She’smywife,”Ideclare, fixing Betty with a glare so fierce it could burn through steel. I wrap a protective arm around Emma’s shoulders and pull her in close. “Or at least, she’ll be my wife soon, if I’m lucky.”

Betty’s cheeks flare scarlet as she scrambles up from her chair. With a hurried bow, she stammers, “I am so, so sorry, sir—and ma’am. I had no idea she was your wife—uh, your fiancée.” Her voice trails off in a fluster. “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior from now on. This won’t happen again.”

I arch an eyebrow. “You don’t need to know she’s my fiancée to show respect. As my secretary, you are expected to be the epitome of good manners. The next time you overstep with anyone—especially my fiancée—you won’t have a job here.”

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