Falling For The Wrong Twin

Boyfriend Emergency

Gia

The club’s heavy bass didn't only reverberate through the wall but slammed into my heel—blood rushing—jolting me back to the present while absolutely reminding me of what piece of a f*****g loser I was.

I, Gia Heidi, f****d my best friend who proposed to his ex the next day.

The f*****g irony.

Not sure if it’s the alcohol but my head was all over the place and right now, I feel like s**t for a plethora of reasons. For giving myself to Mitch who didn't even have the tiniest memory of what happened last night. And for believing his bullshit about him and Vivienne being over.

Maybe I should've known better.

Every single time I'd convinced myself they were finally done, they always found their way back to each other.

The last time I'd tried to save him from Vivienne, they'd almost ended up dead.

They'd been driving back home from a date meant to fix their relationship when another argument erupted. Something about him having a wandering eye. As they fought, he lost control of the car and crashed it.

Frustrated with seeing him hospitalized and with a broken arm, I told him he was done. That he needed to leave her before they both ended up dead.

Then Vivienne limped in. Gave him an ultimatum. Her or me.

He chose her.

After a few months, he showed up at my office, apologizing for ever choosing her over me, and he had finally closed that chapter between them. And as a way to repair our friendship, he wanted us to have his birthday dinner in Massachusetts because of his mum’s retirement dinner. Adeline.

He swore Vivienne and he was truly over, and like the fool I was, I let myself believe, gave myself to him last night

And now a f*****g proposal to Vivienne.

Pain sliced through my head like a honed knife as I held the small shot of tequila to my mouth, ready to take it in one gulp when a text lit up my phone.

Vivienne.

My heart stopped.

“Viv here. Mitch and I just left the restaurant, and somehow your name came up. He thought it’d be fun if you and your boyfriend joined us for a double date after dinner. Osborne is opening a new bar, and honestly, it sounds like the perfect spot for it. We already made reservations for the four of us. Love you.”

A scoff left my mouth, my face forming a scowl. What boyfriend? And Mitch would never be involved in this. This was all Vivienne’s idea.

I’d barely left the restaurant after faking a stomach-ache because I couldn’t stand Vivienne and Mitch’s PDA’s that were unnecessarily being thrown around in my face like she was trying to prove something to me when Mitch blew up my phone with texts.

Called me a betrayal for hiding the fact that I had a boyfriend.

I mean, it was pretty rich for someone who didn’t have the decency to tell me that he had gotten back with Vivienne, planned on proposing to her, and f*****g save me from tonight’s humiliation.

And now, I was mad all over again.

About tonight. The non-existent boyfriend—

Yeah, the boyfriend. A sensitive issue because I’ve never dated anyone in the past twenty-eight years and I had to blurt out I had one because of the horrible spot Vivienne and Faye put me in.

A groan scraped up my throat, frustration needling at me as I swallowed the tequila in one gulp. “Why am I overthinking this? I can just come up with an excuse, claiming I have an emergency. No. That won’t work,”

What if I just turn my phone off?”

Useless idea. Mitch had my hotel key, and if I didn't answer, he would be barging in first thing tomorrow morning.

I shoved my phone into my purse, removing the lone unused cigarette I stole from Mitch in the club last night. I wasn't that much of a smoker. I hated the smell and feel of it and had only taken it from Mitch because his lips had brushed through it and because I loved doing the things he did.

My mind drifted back to Mitch. Damn, I could still feel him inside of me, still taste him in my mouth and as the whole proposal scene replayed in my head, I couldn't help but feel sick to my stomach.

Why Vivienne?

What was so good about her that she was the only one he saw and not me?

The cigarette dangled from my lips, the music switching into something slow and romantic as I rummaged in my purse for the stolen lighter when—

A dark presence overshadowed me. I could smell wood, leather, and danger all in one as thick veiny hands holding out a golden lighter flamed the cheap cigarette.

My spine stiffened, the music fading as I lifted my eyes to dark brown ones that held me hostage and put a jarring stop to my heartbeats.

My mouth fell open, the cigarette nearly dropping from my lips as all the thoughts of Mitch that filled every corner and crevice of my brain slowly disappeared.

I couldn't look away from him. I couldn't look away from those magnetic black eyes that pulled me into a swirling black hole.

He was majestic. Like he came straight out of a GQ cover.

Comparing him to one of those models was an insult. They simply didn’t compare to the—

“Done ogling me?” The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk, snapping me out of that brief chaotic daze.

This was exactly what pissed me off about ridiculously handsome men who knew the effect they had on women. The arrogance. The inflated ego. Ugh. I couldn’t stand it.

“Who are you?” My frown was deep. “And why are you in my personal space?

Mr. Handsome Stranger’s smirk only deepened. “That is pretty lengthy for a thank you, sweetheart,”

I exhaled sharply. I shouldn’t take out my frustration on a stranger who probably helped when he saw me fumbling for a lighter.

I avoided crashing into his eyes—forcing a smile. “I apologize for my tone and don’t call me sweetheart. I don’t even know you…” I breathed. “But thank you,”

“You are welcome sweetheart,” he said again like he had made it his night mission to piss me off, and just before I could react—

“That would be a hundred and fifty dollars—for sneaking a cigarette in. Club policies demand that all indoor smoking violations be charged as a house fee. And that would be an additional one-fifty box for lighting up your cigarette,” His smile was dark and mischievous.

My brain short-circuited for a second.

I blinked through the haze of confusion, killing the cigarette under my heel while letting out a humorless laugh. “Excuse me?”

He pointed to the no-smoking sign in the corner. “First-time offenders are allowed to pay for the violation with a fee. The second time…not so well,”

“What? Did you not just help me? You helped me light the cigarette,”

He smiled and for a brief moment, I was amazed by how beautiful it was. “Let’s say I enjoy making money for the club,” His words snap back to my senses.

My face fell into a deep scowl. “Are you the owner?” I asked after seeing how differently dressed he was from the other workers.

“No, I’m not. My friend is. Just supervising and making money while he’s gone,”

For a second, I wanted to believe he was a scam. Then my gaze flicked around the club and landed on the brief exchange between him and the bouncer. One look was all it took to tell that the man was seconds away from escorting me out if I refused to cooperate.

How the hell was this even allowed?

“Since when do clubs even charge people for smoking?” I glared at him.

“Since I took over her for the night and decided to earn more cash for myself and the club,” He sealed his words with a smile that did nothing but infuriate me more.

I pulled out my wallet, eyeing him. Clean-shaven, smelled ridiculously good, and definitely hot. If he could pull that little stunt disguised as help just to squeeze money out of me instead of letting me off with a warning. It meant he was desperate.

Or broke.

I would choose the latter.

There was nothing exotic about his dressing. Plain white shirt. Faded blue jeans and a Richard Mille wristwatch that were definitely knock-offs.

Everything about him screamed broke or worst-case scenario, poor.

Just as I finished counting the bill, a sick idea crossed my mind. Mitch and Vivienne. The dinner. The boyfriend's emergency. Him. Perfect.

“Keep the change,” He took the money from me, and his brows slightly furrowed but I didn't think much of it.

I lean forward with a smile. “Instead of using your friend’s business as an avenue to rip people off.

Let me help you earn better money…think of it as a side hustle. A life-changing opportunity,” I said like it was something grandiose.

Dark amusement sparked in his eyes as he watched me with interest. “A life-changing opportunity? Sounds fun,”

“Be my fake boyfriend…” I blurted, waiting for him to react, but when I got none, I prodded him further. “I’ll hire you for the whole of tomorrow. I’ll pay you a thousand dollars. You just have to follow me to my best friend’s mum's retirement dinner and pretend to be my boyfriend. If a thousand dollars is too little… We can make it fifteen hundred. It’s a great deal, right?”

He didn't look impressed.

“After that, you get paid and we both go our separate ways. What do you say?”