Thirteen
1737 Words
Marissa
I groaned inwardly the moment the words left my mouth. A fake boyfriend? Really? Of all the excuses I could have come up with, that was the one I chose?
Now, I was trapped in a ridiculous lie that I'd have to back up with an actual person.
I rubbed my temple, already dreading the consequences. Justine was going to be a problem.
Would Justin even care?
I didn’t like this.
Not at all.
---
Employees trickled into the conference room, filling the seats around the oak table. A projector screen displayed the weekly milestones. I couldn’t concentrate. My foot kept tapping beneath my chair.
Hector, my ex-boyfriend's best friend who knew about the cheating and now wanted to be friends again—sat diagonally across from me. He kept trying to get my attention, but I ignored him, nodding absently at the conversation.
I kept my gaze fixed on my notepad, scribbling unnecessary bullet points to distract myself. At one point, Hector sent me a text.
You okay?
I read it and didn't respond.
The meeting dragged on, filled with discussions about upcoming projects, policy updates, and other things that didn’t concern me.
Hector met me again at the parking lot. I waited near the designated pickup point for the staff bus. He approached, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"You're doing that thing again," he said, breaking the silence.
I blinked, glancing up at him. He was tall, so I had to look up, and the sun squinted on my face.
"What thing?"
"Overthinking. Like it’s an Olympic sport," he quipped, shifting his weight onto one foot.
I remained silent.
"Come on, Marissa," he nudged me lightly. "I know I messed up by—”
"Stop it,” I warned.
He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Fine. What's bothering you?”
I paused, glanced around, then finally responded."I require the services of a fake boyfriend."
I glanced at him to see his reaction. He grinned so wide it was borderline ridiculous.
"I accept your proposal," he dramatically touched his heart. "I promise to cherish and honor this relationship wholeheartedly."
"You're an i***t," I deadpanned.
"An i***t who is now in a committed fraudulent relationship. Who knows—this could turn into something real."
"Ugh," I groaned, rubbing my temples.
"Seriously, though, why can’t you just give me a chance? We’re both turning twenty-five. We’ve known each other a long time."
I raised a hand to stop him. "First, you’re not my type. Second, you were Alan's best friend. You knew he was cheating on me. Why the hell would I want to be with you?"
“Put yourself in my shoes, Marissa. If it was your best friend—someone you’ve known since childhood—would you have ratted them out immediately?"
I hesitated.
He had a point.
But I was glad I had no friends now.
They weren’t worth it.
"And now imagine it’s someone of the opposite s*x. Wouldn’t that make it even harder?"
"Whatever," I grumbled.
We got into the bus, and I allowed him to sit beside me for the first time. "So, tell me," he said, his mood instantly lighter. "Who are we fooling with this fake romance? Your dad? A persistent admirer to ward off?"
"It’s nothing serious," I said, heading toward the bus. "Just someone in the office."
Hector wiggled his eyebrows. "I thrive in work drama.”
"It’s not that deep," I repeated. "Just in case it comes up, I might mention you. And if I call for you, act normal. We don’t even have to do anything. Just be convincing. We might have to hold hands sometimes."
"I was born for PDA. I’ll prepare my soft, warm hands for you."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night."
I finally cracked a smile.
---
The glowing numbers on my calendar app reminded me I had three months before turning twenty-five.
Yet here I was—wasting my time and being a glorified note-taker.
I picked up my iPad heading toward the conference room. The unspoken rule of office dictated that assistants arrived before their bosses. Like clockwork, the other assistants were already in place, standing by their seats—silent and detached.
The establishment was too structured for casual conversations. It wasn’t like friendly corporate offices where colleagues whispered gossip before the meeting started. Even worse was the Lycan-Versus-Werewolf hierarchy difference.
I tapped my pen idly against my notepad, barely listening to the ongoing discussion.
I had zoned out five minutes ago, doodling lazy circles in the margins of my notes. It wasn’t like anyone was going to ask my opinion.
These meetings were the same every time—long and a battle of egos between Justin and Sean. The two cousins were once again contradicting each other at every turn. It was amusing.
Neither of them realized how ridiculous they sounded. Their latest disagreement revolved around the gold trade. Neither of them made much sense.
Sean wanted to flood the market and make quick profits, while Justin insisted on extreme regulations that could stifle trade.
Both were wrong.
The more they argued, the more irritated I became.
I don’t know what came over me, but I blamed the stubborn streak that came with being a lawyer.
I leaned forward as if to whisper something to Justin.
"What if you implement quotas instead of over-regulating or flooding the market? That way, the supply remains stable, prices stay high, and you don’t end up undervaluing your resources."
Desire filled my lungs at the scent of the bond.
I took a deep breath.
There was a brief silence before Justin turned sideways.
Our eyes met.
I thought he was considering my words.
"Nobody asked for your opinion."
Uh-oh.
I stiffened but didn't realize his cousin was listening.
"Actually, that's a solid strategy. Very clever." Then he winked at me. "Smart and beautiful—a dangerous combo."
Although surprised, I managed a polite smile. After all, at least someone in the room acknowledged that I had a brain.
Justin seemed enraged by the attention Sean was giving me, and his tone turned sharp. "Get out."
I stiffened, realizing he was talking to me.
"What?"
He glared at me, barely controlling his temper.
Sean watched the exchange with amusement, and the other attendees glanced between us awkwardly. I took a deep breath and, without saying another word, gathered my notepad and didn't look back as I walked out.
Back at my desk, I felt like a complete fool. Justin was irredeemable and super annoying. No matter how often I tried to convince myself that something was salvageable beneath his coldness, he repeatedly proved me wrong.
His cousin, whom I once thought was a cocky antagonist, had been more approachable. He had at least acknowledged my intelligence and given me the barest bit of recognition. Justin, on the other hand, had shot me down with no remorse.
My hands balled into fists on my lap before I released them and tried to remind myself that maybe I was the one in the wrong. I should have kept my big mouth shut.
A presence filled the space. I didn't even need to look up. It was Wendy. She walked past me with effortless grace. She didn't spare me a flicker of acknowledgment. Her presence felt like a slap.
A reminder of everything I wasn't.
The perfect fiancée. The chosen one. The woman standing where I was supposed to be.
The meeting ended sooner than I expected. I sat still, watching the executives filter out the room in small clusters. I knew what was coming. Justin was going to rip me to shreds and make me feel small.
I was ready for it.
He couldn't do anything beyond words, so why was I nervous and waiting for him to storm out?
Because I knew the truth.
His words had power.
"That was bold," his cousin Sean said, walking to my table with his signature smirk.
"Excuse me?"
"What you said about regulating gold exports is smart and surprising. Challenging your boss is a dangerous mindset when working under him, don't you think?"
I sighed. "I didn't mean to disrupt the meeting."
"Oh, come on." He brushed off my explanation. "You’ve got to love that—beautiful and brainy. That’s rare to find."
My stomach knotted when his gaze lingered on my lips and chest and then back to my face.
"Flattery doesn’t work on me."
Sean laughed. "That’s disappointing. I hoped we’d at least get to the part where you pretend to be intrigued. You sure you’re not just playing hard to get?"
I ignored him and wished he would leave me alone.
"It’s refreshing to see someone challenge Justin. He doesn’t like being wrong, and I doubt he will let this slide."
"Yeah, I figured," I muttered.
"Well, if you ever get tired of being underappreciated, let me know. I happen to appreciate intelligent women. I'll pay you triple what he gives you."
I straightened my shoulders, suddenly uneasy, when he rounded the table and sat on it, facing me directly.
"Work for me, Marissa. I like you."
"What the hell do you think you’re doing?" Justin's voice snapped behind us.
Like a thief caught stealing, I jumped off my seat, meeting Justin’s livid gaze. My stomach dropped.
He wasn’t looking at me. His burning eyes were fixed on his cousin. Sean, on the other hand, looked entirely unbothered. If anything, he seemed entertained.
"Come on, Justin, don’t make a scene. I was having a friendly conversation with your capable assistant—whom you always undermine."
"Leave her the hell alone," Justin snapped.
Sean raised his hands in mock surrender. "Is he controlling you too?" He tilted his head to meet mine. "He does that most times to cover his insecurities."
I wasn’t sure what happened first, whether it was Justin stepping forward or Sean placing a hand on my shoulder in a deliberately flirtatious touch.
Either way, the next moment was pure chaos.
The sickening sound of bone meeting bone.
Sean staggered backward and gripped his jaw. My hand flew to my mouth.
"Get out of my building," Justin ordered.
Sean rubbed his jaw, his blood staining the corner of his lip.
"Go take your meds, cousin. Not everyone can be as miserable as you are. The only reason I’m not beating you to a pulp is because of your dad."
- Writer
