Pretend It's Love Read Free

Two
    L ibby 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?
    Hell no.
    Still, at least he called. That was more than she could say for her mother.
    She shoved the still-buzzing device into her handbag and kept walking. Eventually she’d need to take his call, but after an abysmal day of rejection she needed a drink. Normally getting home to work on a new cocktail or test out a new infusion idea would be priority. But not today.
    The buzzing started up again, and Libby rummaged around in her bag to find her phone. She wouldn’t give her father the satisfaction of answering his call, but she could turn the damn thing off so she didn’t go insane. She continued walking as she hunted for her phone, her blood pressure rising with each step. Maybe she should answer his call if only so she could tell him what an arrogant, selfish, mean—“Hey!”
    Libby looked up at the sound of the warning but her shoe connected hard with a solid mass. Pain ricocheted through her ankle as the world tilted beneath her feet. A strong hand wrapped around her arm, wrenching her back to standing just as the sound of glass shattering pierced the air around her.
    It took her a moment to realize her eyes were squeezed shut, although against what she wasn’t sure. Pain and mortification were neck and neck.
    Libby cracked an eyelid open, her breath catching in her throat. The man holding her wore a tight black T-shirt that amply showed off solid arms and broad shoulders. But it was his face that made her chest squeeze and her mouth run dry. The fading daylight cast shadows across him, highlighting razor-sharp cheekbones and full lips. His eyes—edging on black—were covered with heavy lashes, and his hair had been cut short, though it didn’t hide its natural kink.
    He held a now-empty tray in the hand that wasn’t wrapped around her arm. Libby risked a glance at the floor and cringed.
    “Are you okay?” he asked, his dark brows narrowed in a way that made her unsure whether he was concerned or furious. Maybe it was a little of both.
    Her brain grappled for a response, but the fireworks going off in her body were more than a little distracting. It seemed that if you spent long enough away from the opposite sex that first “re-introduction” would wreak havoc on one’s hormones.
    “I’m fine.” Libby mustered a smile; she was not the sort of girl who got flustered by a hot guy…usually. Now embarrassing failures of coordination