Mrs & Mrs Read online

  Mrs & Mrs

  A Fake Marriage Lesbian Romance

  Berri Fox

  Its Her Books

  Copyright © 2019 by It’s Her Books

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Contents

  Description

  1. Ashley

  2. Jess

  3. Ashley

  4. Jess

  5. Ashley

  6. Jess

  7. Ashley

  8. Jess

  9. Ashley

  10. Jess

  11. Ashley

  12. Jess

  13. Ashley

  14. Jess

  15. Ashley

  16. Jess

  17. Ashley

  18. Jess

  19. Ashley

  20. Jess

  21. Ashley

  22. Jess

  23. Ashley

  24. Jess

  25. Ashley

  26. Jess

  27. Ashley

  28. Jess

  29. Ashley

  30. Jess

  31. Ashley

  32. Jess

  33. Ashley

  34. Jess

  35. Ashley

  Description

  I’ve got everything I could want.

  Money. Power. Beauty.

  Just one thing lacking.

  Love.

  So when Jess and I bump into each other on a cruise ship, it’s different.

  She’s real.

  Real pretty. Real down to earth.

  And in real trouble.

  But then again…so am I.

  There’s only one way I know that I can save her.

  That’s by pretending she’s my girlfriend.

  And then by proposing to her on the boat.

  It’ll take care of all her troubles.

  If she agrees.

  But even if she does and we manage to keep the whole thing a secret, then we need to make sure our enemies don’t find out.

  And even if they do, we have another much bigger worry to think about.

  What happens to our pretend relationship when we start to develop real feelings?

  Author’s Note: This romance novel contains steamy scenes.

  One

  Ashley

  This whole situation is a drama fest and it’s completely unfair that this is being pinned solely on me. The media is in an absolute frenzy right now like a shark in blood filled water, circling my brother and his hotel business because of the incident this weekend.

  And now my brother has called me in from sleeping off the hangover of the century, and for what; to listen to all his panicked investors trying to give him a piece of their mind? To dodge reporters’ questions? He’s got the gall to tell me that this is entirely my responsibility, despite the fact that it clearly isn’t.

  So what if I took over three floors of the flagship hotel for my wild party that I threw with Regan Hampshire, my now ex girlfriend? It’s not as if the entire breakup or events that followed were just on me; she played just an equal part in the debacle. She’s a rich socialite with a social media following that would rival most celebrities, and it doesn’t matter where she goes, people will be there to witness whatever happens. So the fact that we broke up in the fountain of the hotel lobby and the media was there to see it wasn’t just on me, you know. People with cameras were going to see the breakup regardless of where it took place, and it’s not my fault that it happened in the form of a heated argument in the grand fountain in the hotel lobby.

  In front of hundreds of people.

  After we absolutely trashed three hotel rooms because I insisted that we do those last twelve shots.

  Okay, so maybe it was a little bit my fault, but not to the extent that my brother Robin is making it out to be. This is fixable, right? All it’s going to take is a bit of good PR and this whole thing will be forgotten about in a couple of weeks. Probably.

  Right now though, the media is having a field day with this and because of that, calls from investors are pouring in to the point where our phone lines are backed up, demanding that we take action. What action that is, I’m not so sure; I’m currently sitting at the desk with my head in my hands and downing water and Advil, desperately trying to stave off this headache.

  My brother Robin is seated across from me on the phone, red in the face and trying not to lose his cool as one particularly angry client is berating him for letting such a thing take place in his establishment. All the while he’s glaring at me from across the desk and scowling, mouthing obscenities at me as I try not to smirk or chuckle, lest I make it worse. Finally he manages to get the old bat off of the phone and he curses under his breath before he leans back in his chair, and then he looks at me and shakes his head. He’s obviously pissed, but I still don’t see how he can blame this whole situation on me.

  “This isn’t my fault you know.” I say calmly, sighing. “I don’t see why you’re so pissed at me; it could have happened with any guest staying there. You’ve got famous people there all the time.”

  “Except it didn’t.” He snaps, huffing. “It happened while you were staying there, with your guests and your drama.”

  I roll my eyes in response as his management team and PR consultants come in, the group of them chattering and frantically bickering back and forth like a flock of old hens. They’re all going back and forth about what strategy is best to deal with the press, and I can’t believe what I’m hearing. This is basically free advertising, right? I always thought that there was no such thing as good publicity or bad publicity; just publicity. I open my mouth to tell him this but before I can say anything there’s another phone brought over to Robin from his assistant, insisting that the person on the other line won’t wait. He glares over at me and curses again, hushed, and then he drags his hand down over his face.

  “You know Ashley; I’m going to have to cancel my cruise because of all of this. Does that make you happy?”

  Why on Earth would he need to cancel his cruise? I look back at him, brow cocked in confusion and a look of disbelief on my face as I lean forward, scoffing.

  “Oh stop being dramatic; you don’t need to cancel anything. You’ve got a PR team for a reason, right? Let them handle it.”

  “I can’t let them handle this Ashley, I need to handle it myself!"

  “And why not? What is so bad that you have to address the public directly and get your hands dirty, instead of the team whose job is to do exactly that for you?”

  “I have to speak to them directly and deal with things myself because one of your guests went through the hotel, banging on every door and asking people to drink tequila with them! Without any pants, at that! My image is ruined and unless I show remorse and make a grand gesture, my profits won’t exist anymore.”

  Whoops.

  I roll my eyes again with a sigh, waving off his prattling as I drink the rest of my water, chuckling when his assistant reminds him that he really must take this call.

  “Fine so you have to cancel your cruise, big deal.” I say with a shrug, shaking my head. “It’s not like it’s your first and it won’t be your last.”

  He mutters under his breath and pinches the bridge of his nose, and then picks his gaze back up to meet mine, looking utterly defeated and tied of arguing.

  “Look Ashley; you got me into this mess so the least you can do is help me out a bit and make yourself useful. I’m not about to ask you to make a public apology or anything like that-“

  “Well I should hope not!”

&nb
sp; “But; I do want you to at least do me the courtesy of heading down to the dock and letting the Cruise liner know that I’ll no longer be attending. They had arranged some things for me so I don’t want them to go to the trouble if they don’t have to anymore.”

  Before I’ve got a chance to object and tell him to send an errand runner or something he’s taken the call, and I stand up from the desk and waltz over to the window and pull out my cell. I make a call to the Cruise liner but of course the lines are down, so I hang up with the intention of trying again in a few minutes.

  I get another drink of water and then dial the number again, but just as before; the lines are still down. And if the situation over there is anything like what we’re dealing with here at the hotel office, then the phone lines might be tied up for quite some time. After a few more failed attempts I disconnect the line with a sigh, getting more and more annoyed with all the noise around me in the office.

  It’s constant chatter and non stop arguing, the level of noise doing absolutely nothing for the killer hangover that is currently waging war on my head. So after a moment of gazing out the window and getting more and more irritated by the minute, I decide that I need to get out of here.

  The Cruise liner isn’t that far from the office, so maybe I can just go down there in person and straighten things out for Robin. I’ll let them know that he isn’t going to be taking the cruise anymore, and I’ll get some fresh air and quiet to help clear my head.

  Win/win.

  So I make my way back downstairs, smirking as I pass the fountain and see remnants of last night’s shenanigans in the form of a ribbon still tied around the wrist of one of the statues. It doesn’t take me long to hail a cab out front –I’m a gorgeous woman, of course– and before I know it I’m out of the chaos of the office and inside a quiet cab, on my way to the docks to help deal with a mess that definitely isn’t my fault.

  Maybe.

  Two

  Jess

  This week has been one of the worst weeks of my entire life.

  As a young and stereotypically struggling writer, my life hasn’t ever been easy. Still, I’ve always been able to scrape by, and working a few shifts at The Cozy Nook book store has helped more than I could have imagined. However, even having a convenient job that allows me to work on my novels during the day can’t help me with the problems I’ve been facing this week.

  I’m currently holding the third publishing rejection letter of the week in my hands, and as I struggle to find a reason not to scrap all of my hard work, my four year old nephew runs around the kitchen on a sugar high. I can’t hear myself think. The rejection letter crumbles in my hands as I toss it into the trash can, and I sigh as I notice that I’m running late for work again.

  “Alex, sweetie, settle down for Aunt Jess. It’s time to head to the bookstore, don’t you want to hear a story today?” I see the resemblance of my sister Penny in his flaming red hair and brilliant green eyes and it saddens me.

  My sister used to have the same brightness in her eyes, and we used to get along better than any pair of best friends. Yet, after high school, Penny began to hang out with the wrong crowd. She often had brushes with the law, and I could never have a serious conversation with her because she was always high.

  Our single mother didn’t think too much of it, simply saying that she was experimenting and having fun. The problems with Penny didn’t stop though, even after I graduated from college and she had dropped out. After mom passed away, Penny moved in with her then-boyfriend and had Alex.

  Unfortunately, a few weeks ago when her boyfriend left her, Penny resorted to her old ways and landed in rehab once again. This left me suddenly caring for a four year old that reminded me of the energetic person my sister used to be. Alex is a wonderful and smart kid, but his mischievous side often leaves me annoyed and late for work.

  “No story. Hide and seek, hide and seek!” Alex giggles, and I groan as I realize he’s hidden my car keys for the fifth time this week.

  As the clock ticks closer to 9am, my patience wears thinner and thinner. “We don’t have time! Find them now or I’m going to be very angry with you!”

  The threat of anger brings an embarrassed blush to the young boy’s face. His eyes begin to well with tears and I instantly regret raising my voice. He’s already lost two parental figures, and the thought of making me upset must be frightening to him.

  “Sailboats use wind to move.” It’s another boat fact. He shares facts about boats and geography a lot, but especially when he knows I’m getting upset with him.

  “That’s very interesting!” I coo, moving to pat him on the head. “Why do you do that when I get angry?”

  The boy fiddles with his fingers, looking down towards the floor. “If I’m smart, maybe you’ll keep me.”

  My heart breaks, and I forget all about the car keys and my lateness as I embrace Alex in a hug. “Sweetheart, I’ll always love you. Facts or no facts.”

  The gesture leads him to run to the couch after hugging me back, and to my relief, he pulls a set of keys from the cushions. “Story time.”

  With a big smile, I lift him into my arms and hurry to the car after struggling to grab my laptop bag as well. It was easier than I had anticipated to get my keys back, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m now 30 minutes late. Luckily, when I appear at The Cozy Nook with Alex in my arms, the bookshop owner quickly changes her look of disapproval into a smile.

  “I see Alex is in a good mood today.” Rachel floats over to us, offering to take my nephew off my hands.

  “I’m so sorry for being late, he decided to play hide and seek with my car keys again.” I’m deeply embarrassed, but Rachel seems to understand that I’m struggling to adjust to my new guardian role.

  My boss sighs, ushering Alex over to the kid’s story circle while pointing to a lanyard around her neck with a set of keys attached. “Working around kids all day, you learn to outsmart them. You should try this, it works for me.”

  “I’ll try it, thank you for understanding.” After getting her nod of approval, I shuffle over to the register to start my work for the day.

  It’s a rather slow day, and not many customers come through the doors. There are only a handful of children sitting in the story time circle as well, so I decide that it’s the perfect time to do some writing.

  With the sting of rejection still fresh in my memory, I scroll through my latest project on my laptop. When I first started writing this story, I had so much motivation to get it finished. Who wouldn’t want to read a murder mystery where all of the suspects turned out to be imagined by the main character in the end?

  But after several rejection letters related to the first few chapters, I lost all motivation. One publisher even took the time to write a note in reply that simply said, “Boring.” Despite it all, ever since I discovered that writing about my turbulent relationship with Penny in college was the only thing that eased the pain, I’ve felt a calling to become an author.

  With that thought in mind, I remind myself that I can’t give up just yet. I settle for revising the first few chapters of the mystery to create more entertaining character arcs and dialogue. The gears finally start turning in my mind and creativity is practically dripping from my fingers.

  Only three customers have come in so far, and after tending to their needs I immediately get back to writing. Just as an ingenious idea hits me that could change the fate of my entire story, a child’s high-pitched cry rings in my ears.

  “Jess, we need you to report to the story circle right away.” Rachel’s voice crackles over the PA system, and my breath hitches in my throat. My mind is completely consumed with thoughts of Alex as I push my computer aside and rush to the circle.

  My nephew is being cradled in Rachel’s arms as the other children sit quietly in confusion. “What happened?” I breathe, hurriedly lifting Alex into a hug.

  “Just a moment everyone, story time will continue in a second.” She gestures to the back room,
where my co-workers Cody and Abbie are patiently waiting. “There was a monster in the story, Alex just got a little frightened.”

  “You can settle him down back here if you’d like.” Abbie offers, and Cody pulls a small teddy bear off of one of the shelves to hold out to Alex.

  With a screaming child in my arms, I apologize to Rachel and thank my friends. The four of us sit in the back room, but neither adult is able to calm Alex down.

  “Come on kiddo, the Black Forest Dragon isn’t real he’s just a drawing.” Abbie tries to assure him, but he simply screams louder at the mention of the monster. She furrows her brows and looks at Cody for assistance.

  Choppy dark hair frames Cody’s face and obscures her eyes, but her smile is kind. “Hold on to Mr. Teddy, he’ll keep you safe.” She smooths Alex’s red locks as he grabs for the stuffed animal.

  “The dragon lives in the book store, he’s gonna get me.” Even though his arms are wrapped tightly around the bear, Alex is still shaking. I’m feeling extremely helpless and guilty that I can’t think of anything to say to my own nephew.

  “That’s not true.” It’s all I can manage, but it doesn’t seem to be helping one bit. Although I know my co-workers would never judge me, I feel extremely inadequate as a child guardian, and I hate that they have to watch me struggle.