Pretend It's Love(2)

     



 

The kind that burrowed deep down and made you question everything.

The sudden decline in socializing hadn't gone unnoticed; both Des and  Noah had questioned him to no avail. He didn't want meaningless sex  anymore nor did he want to be chained up in a relationship hell. If only  he could have some kind of in-between solution …

But now Paul had bigger problems to deal with other than his sex-life  limbo. Tonight's announcement meant he had only six weeks to find  someone to stand by his side at the wedding and do something meaningful  with his life. No big deal, right?

There was no way in hell he'd front up to his ex alone being exactly the  same guy as when she'd dumped him two years ago. Not going to happen.



Libby Harris begged her cell phone not to ring again. After four calls  bearing bad news, she was about ready to hurl the damn thing out a  window. This couldn't be happening.

One press release and her business-which was on the brink of  launching-was going down the drain faster than a Britney Spears  comeback. Maybe if she stopped answering her phone the bad news would  disappear.

"Stay calm." Her best friend, Nina Bauer, sat cross-legged on the couch  in Libby's office and mimicked deep breathing. "I know it seems bad, but  there's room in the market for more than one person. Everything will be  fine, and we'll probably laugh at this in a few months."

"Laugh?" Libby held up her iPad with both hands and thrust it in Nina's  general direction. "My business is going to die because I didn't launch  early enough. That's nothing to laugh about."

"Freaking out isn't going to help the situation." Nina pushed off the  couch and grabbed the iPad, gently setting it down on the coffee table.  "And stop waving your gadgets in my face."

One month out from her launch party, Libby's business-a line of girlie  infused vodkas and cocktail mixes-was in peril. That morning a press  statement had been released that the infamous reality TV star turned  sex-tape celebrity, Kandy K, was launching her very own line of flavored  vodkas.

What were the friggin' odds?

Now all the businesses she'd lined up to stock Libby Gal Cocktails were  dropping like flies-they wanted to jump on the celebrity bandwagon.  Despite her social pedigree, Libby Harris was not a celebrity.

"We don't know how many places are going to pull out. Maybe the worst of it is over."

Libby dropped her face into her hands and tried not to hyperventilate.  "I'm going to fail because I never made a sex tape. How ironic is that?"

Her phone rang again, and Libby threw it into the drawer of her desk,  slamming it shut with a resounding bang. She couldn't take hearing one  more restaurant owner tell her that they were "very sorry" but they  needed to put their business first and "explore other options."

They didn't even have the guts to admit why they were dropping her.

"Trust me, in a few years you'll be happy you don't have a sex tape."  Nina pulled open the desk drawer and retrieved the phone. "There's no  point sticking your head in the sand. We need to focus on fixing this  problem. How many are we down to?"

"Six, I think." Libby flipped open her laptop, scanning down the details  neatly typed into a spreadsheet. "I had ten restaurants lined up for  the soft launch in Melbourne; four have pulled out so far. But I'm  pretty sure that"-she pointed at her phone, not daring to pick the damn  thing up. It may as well have been a venomous snake baring its  fangs-"was Lulu Bar."

"So we go into damage control. Let's meet with the restaurant owners and  see what we can do. Don't they say market competition is good?"

Libby balled her fists. "This is not good, it's a bloody disaster!"

Nina sighed and grabbed one of the bottles of Libby Gal Cocktails  infused vodka that sat in an open box, awaiting shipment. "Marshmallow  and rose petal, my favorite. Just what the doctor ordered."

She screwed the top off before Libby could protest and fished out two of  the branded shot glasses that were supposed to go along with the order.  The sight of her business logo-a martini glass with a lip print on the  side and her initials in pink and green-made her suck in a breath.

"We shouldn't be drinking the stock, Neens."

"Heavy drinking is often recommended in times of intense stress." Nina winked and waved the bottle in front of Libby's face.

Libby laughed despite herself. This was exactly the reason she was  friends with Nina. The woman could put a smile on her face no matter how  dire life seemed.         

     



 

"I'm pretty sure that's the opposite of what's recommended."

Nina shrugged and set the shot glasses on Libby's desk, free pouring  until the liquid reached the edge of the glass. "Bottoms up."

Libby brought it carefully to her lips. She downed the drink in a single  gulp, shutting her eyes and letting the alcohol work its magic. The  sweet scent of marshmallow and rose petals danced in her nose. It was  the first flavor she'd ever made.

The business had started out as a hobby when she'd infused store-bought  vodkas in pretty jars and given them as gifts for Christmas and  birthdays. When Nina got married she asked Libby to make her a special  blend for wedding guest gifts. Compliments and requests came rolling in,  and Libby put her medical degree on hold to turn her passion into a  business.

It was the first time she'd ever taken a risk on herself.

"Hit me again." Libby slammed the glass down on her desk and gritted her teeth.

She would not let her business die. She would not admit defeat because  of bad timing. And she most definitely would not crawl back to her  father and tell him that he was right.

"That's my girl." Nina grinned and blew a strand of her electric blue  hair out of her face as she refilled the glasses. "Cheers."

Libby tipped back the second drink and dropped down into her desk chair,  surveying her office. The room was originally a spare bedroom, but  she'd turned it into her own personal command center. Boxes of product  were piled up in one corner, and her adorable vintage couch and coffee  table were covered in Nina's artwork for the launch party. Her desk was a  bit of a hot mess, but she still had her beautiful makeshift flower  vases-some of the prototype Libby Gal Cocktails bottles-holding rainbow  bouquets of roses and oriental lilies.

This was her dream, and she would fight for all of it. Kicking off her  towering emerald-green stilettos, she turned her laptop to face her.  Slowly, she ran one pink lacquered nail down the column of restaurant  contacts and jotted down names and addresses on a notepad.

"What are you going to do about The Chief?" Nina jumped onto the desk,  swinging her bare feet back and forth. "You know he's going to be all  over this like a rash."

Though her father was a world renowned surgeon, he approached everything  from parenting to washing his car with a style more suited to the  military. Hence the nickname.

"I'm hoping that he'll be too wrapped up in his latest wife to have noticed," Libby said.

"You think he won't mention it? Yeah right." Nina twirled a strand of  her blue hair and let out a sigh. "He'll latch onto anything right now  if it means dragging you back to his life plan."

"I guess I'll have to cross that bridge when I come to it." Libby pursed  her lips. "But I know one thing for sure, I'm not going back to med  school."





Chapter Two

Libby gritted her teeth and strode along the footpath, ignoring the  throbbing pain from a nasty blister on her heel. She'd been on her feet  all day, dashing from one meeting to another in shoes that were better  suited to a stilt walker than a burgeoning entrepreneur.

But her look was part of her brand-bright hair, big heels, in-your-face  lipstick. People noticed her because of the way she looked, then she  made sure they remembered her for what she said. She wasn't giving that  up, blister or no blister.

Sadly, nothing had helped her today. She was zero for ten … every single  business she'd signed for her launch had backed out. If her life was a  game then she'd hit the biggest damn snake on the board.

Her phone vibrated in her hand, but she didn't bother to check who was  calling. Her father had been trying to get a hold of her for three days,  ever since the press release that ruined her business had hit the  papers. She hadn't even bothered to listen to his numerous voicemails,  because she knew exactly what they would say. Her father was circling,  sensing a chink in her plan-an opening, a weak point, a precious sliver  of vulnerability.

After all, daughter dearest had deviated from her path, and he'd been hating every minute of it.

Libby laughed to herself, it was the only response that wouldn't  encourage the onslaught of tears. She'd done right by him her whole  life, she'd tried to be the daughter he always wanted. The perfect Grade  A student, the Mini-Me to his Dr. Evil. And now that she finally wanted  to do something for herself, was he happy?