Chapter 1
Chapter One: The Ask
Olivia Grant was good at planning.
No, scratch that—she was exceptional at planning.
From seven-tier wedding cakes to floral installations that made grown men cry into champagne, she ran her San Francisco event company, Grace & Grit, like a military operation wrapped in peonies and gold ribbon.
Nothing slipped through the cracks.
Not seating charts.
Not vendor confirmations.
Not weather backups.
Not timelines.
So naturally, the universe decided to humiliate her with a text message three days before her sister’s wedding.
Olivia stood frozen in the middle of her kitchen rereading the message like the words might rearrange themselves into something less insulting.
Liv, I can’t do this anymore. You know it hasn’t been working. I’m sorry, but I won’t be going to the wedding. It’s better this way. Take care.
Take care?
Take. Care?
Her grip tightened around the phone.
She was going to murder Derek with a satin chair sash.
The kitchen around her looked like a bridal explosion. White favor boxes covered the island.
A cooler full of unconditioned peonies sat open beside the fridge. Three color-coded schedules glowed on her iPad while a tray of macarons cooled beside an untouched cup of coffee.
And now she was suddenly single.
Perfect.
Absolutely perfect.
The worst part wasn’t even Derek ghosting her before the wedding.
The worst part was her family.
For six straight months, Olivia had built Derek into the perfect boyfriend during every phone call, family dinner, and holiday gathering.
Reliable.
Successful.
Supportive.
Her mother had practically started planning grandchildren.
Now Olivia was supposed to walk into Napa Valley alone while her younger sister floated around in designer lace marrying the love of her life?
No.
Absolutely not.
Her brain immediately shifted into crisis-management mode.
Option one: hire an escort.
Too risky.
Option two: bring a friend.
Too messy.
Option three—
Her eyes slowly drifted toward the shared wall beside her kitchen.
Theo Carter.
Olivia stared at it for a long moment.
Her neighbor was either a software engineer, cybersecurity consultant, or secret government assassin. She still wasn’t entirely sure.
Whatever Theo did for a living paid enough for him to live comfortably in one of the most expensive buildings in San Francisco without ever seeming stressed about money.
Tall.
Broad shoulders.
Dark hair usually falling into his eyes like he’d just rolled out of bed or stepped off the cover of a cologne ad.
Polite.
Quiet.
Painfully attractive.
And aggressively private.
The man treated social interaction like a limited resource.
Olivia had lived next door to him for eleven months and still didn’t know whether he had siblings, hobbies, or a favorite color.
She did, however, know what his abs looked like.
That had been an unfortunate elevator incident after he returned from the gym shirtless one evening.
Olivia still hadn’t emotionally recovered.
She stared at the wall another few seconds.
Then she grabbed a bottle of red wine from the rack.
“This is either genius,” she muttered, heading for the door barefoot, “or the beginning of my villain origin story.”
The hallway outside was quiet except for the distant hum of the elevator.
She crossed to Theo’s apartment and knocked twice before she could lose her nerve.
Nothing happened.
Then footsteps approached slowly from inside.
The door opened.
Theo stood there wearing gray joggers and a fitted black Henley that immediately made Olivia regret every carb she had eaten since middle school.
His expression shifted with mild surprise.
“Olivia,” he said calmly. “Everything okay?”
His voice always caught her off guard.
Low.
Rough around the edges.
Like whiskey over ice.
She held up the wine bottle like a peace offering.
“That depends,” she said. “How do you feel about pretending to be my boyfriend this weekend for money?”
Theo blinked once.
“I’m sorry?”
Right.
No backing out now.
Olivia exhaled sharply.
“Okay, look, this is insane, and I know that, but my boyfriend dumped me fifteen minutes ago via text message, my entire family thinks he’s coming to my sister’s wedding this weekend, and if I show up alone my mother is going to look at me like I personally murdered romance.”
Theo leaned one shoulder against the doorframe.
Olivia kept going before embarrassment could kill her.
“You’re handsome, emotionally unavailable, and already own at least three shirts that suggest financial stability. You’re literally perfect for this.”
One corner of his mouth twitched.
“That’s your sales pitch?”
“I’m spiraling, Theo.”
“That much is clear.”
She groaned.
“I swear I’m not usually like this.”
“Really?”
“No. Usually I have sleep and dignity.”
His eyes dropped briefly to the wine bottle.
“That for me?”
“If you say yes.”
A beat passed.
Then another.
Theo studied her quietly, and Olivia suddenly became hyperaware that she was standing barefoot in yoga pants with wedding spreadsheets still smudged across her forearm in blue ink.
“You want me to pretend to date you,” he said carefully.
“Only for the weekend.”
“And meet your family.”
“Yes.”
“And attend a wedding.”
“Yes.”
“And convince people we’re in love.”
Olivia winced slightly.
“When you say it out loud, it sounds unhinged.”
“It sounded unhinged before too.”
She sighed dramatically.
“Please don’t make me beg in the hallway. The HOA president already hates me.”
That finally made him laugh.
A low, quiet sound that did deeply inappropriate things to Olivia’s nervous system.
“I thought I was supposed to be the antisocial one,” he said.
“You are. That’s why this works. Nobody expects charm from you. You’ll exceed expectations immediately.”
Theo folded his arms.
“And what exactly do I get out of this arrangement?”
“You get free wine, a luxury weekend in Napa, and the opportunity to witness my Uncle Randy embarrass himself discussing cryptocurrency.”
Theo considered that.
“Tempting.”
“He once explained Bitcoin to a waiter for forty minutes.”
“Sold.”
Olivia blinked.
“Wait. Seriously?”
Theo stepped aside, opening the door wider.
“Come in before your nervous breakdown becomes a public event.”
She stared at him.
“You’re actually doing this?”
“Apparently.”
“Why?”
He shrugged once.
“You looked like you needed help.”
Something about the simplicity of that answer hit harder than it should have.
Olivia stepped inside.
Theo’s apartment looked exactly how she imagined it would.
Minimalist.
Clean.
Dark wood.
Soft lighting.
No clutter.
The kind of apartment owned by someone emotionally stable and annoyingly attractive.
Theo disappeared briefly into the kitchen before returning with two wine glasses.
“Alright,” he said, handing her one. “Tell me everything I need to know.”
—
Two hours later, Olivia sat across from Theo at his kitchen table while he took notes in an actual notebook like a man preparing for espionage.
“Okay,” he said, scribbling something down. “So Derek was originally supposed to come to the wedding.”
“Yes.”
“You dated for ten months.”
“Ten extremely disappointing months, apparently.”
“And your family loved him.”
“My mother referred to him as ‘solid.’”
Theo grimaced.
“That’s brutal.”
“Exactly.”
He flipped the page.
“And now I’m Theo Carter, software consultant turned emotionally supportive boyfriend.”
“Correct.”
“Who met you at a Christmas party.”
“Right.”
“Then reconnected after your birthday.”
“Yes.”
“And things became serious in March.”
“Perfect.”
Theo nodded slowly like he was memorizing military coordinates.
“Who’s Uncle Randy again?”
Olivia groaned immediately.
“Oh, God.”
“That bad?”
“He owns three podcasts and thinks crypto is a personality trait.”
Theo actually smiled.
“I’m going to enjoy this.”
Olivia leaned back in her chair, studying him.
He was handling this suspiciously well.
Too well.
“You’re weirdly calm about all this,” she said.
Theo shrugged.
“It’s pretending.”
“But most people would say no.”
“Most people are cowards.”
She laughed.
“That’s not true.”
“It absolutely is.”
The room softened for a moment after that.
Quiet.
Comfortable.
Dangerously comfortable.
Theo closed the notebook.
“So what’s the biggest threat?”
Olivia didn’t hesitate.
“My mother.”
“That serious?”
“She can smell emotional dishonesty like a bloodhound.”
Theo leaned back slightly.
“Good thing we’ll have a believable story.”
The way he said we made something strange twist low in Olivia’s stomach.
She looked down into her wine glass.
This was ridiculous.
Temporary.
Three days.
That was all.
Three days of pretending they were together.
Olivia had spent her entire adult life managing chaos.
She could absolutely survive one fake relationship.
Probably.
Then Theo looked at her again.
Really looked at her.
Not casually.
Not politely.
Like he was trying to figure something out.
And for one brief, dangerous second—
pretending didn’t feel pretend at all.
The link to this book is on my wall, please go.
