Fake for 7 days (Unexpected Lovestories #6)

Chapter 1 ~ Isabella ~

"D amn it! What the hell?" I cursed loudly, glaring at the silver Mercedes that was elegantly maneuvering into a parking spot.

MY parking spot.

I had spotted it just seconds ago, put on my turn signal, and claimed the spot for myself. Parking was the weakest of my weak points, but with this large space, I might have had a chance.

Might have had a chance.

Angrily, I honked my horn.

The Mercedes driver wasn't bothered. He had maneuvered the car into the parking spot in no time. Now he got out and grinned at his vehicle with satisfaction.

Furiously, I rolled down my window. Cold New York winter air rushed into my car. "You just stole my parking spot! I was going to park here! Didn't you see me? I had my blinker on!"

The Mercedes driver looked around. When he spotted me behind the wheel of my small car, he grinned, "Well, tough luck, lady. Just be quicker next time, then you won't have to get upset with me." Whistling, the man walked away, not bothering with me any further.

I stared after him, speechless. This was the height of audacity!

Thanks to this idiot, you're going to be late for work, Isabella. And you know exactly what that means...

I'd rather not think about it. Maybe I would still make it to work on time. I quickly put the car in first gear and drove on. Slowly, I scanned the curb for another free spot for my little green Toyota, which was already several years old and accordingly dented. It had already made close acquaintance with concrete flower pots, walls, and signs.

I wasn't a particularly good driver. I only managed to park when at least a small truck could have fit in the parking space. I couldn't afford an expensive subscription to one of New York's parking garages. So I was always on the lookout for a suitable parking spot.

There!

I breathed a sigh of relief.

A gap.

Right in front of me.

"Too small," I said aloud to myself and drove on. I had gotten my hopes up too soon.

Or should I have tried anyway? A better driver than me probably could have parked the Toyota here.

I was starting to get anxious. I NEEDED a parking spot. Otherwise, I really would be late for work. And that would not please my boss at all. At the thought of the impending thunderstorm, my shoulders tensed and small beads of sweat formed at my hairline. Nervously, I drove around the block. Nothing. Not even a hint of a free parking space. Finally, I turned right into a small side street. Maybe I'd have luck here.

After a few yards, I stopped and looked intently to the left and right.

Again, nothing.

Disappointed, I was about to drive on when the lights came on in a large Ford on my right. Tense, I waited to see if the car would move. The parking space looked big. Just right for me. I had no choice anyway. I HAD to park here. My official work start time was... in one minute.

I would be late again. And my boss would tear into me. I bit my lip. Maybe I'd be lucky and could reach my desk without encountering my boss on the way.

The Ford pulled out of the parking space and I quickly put on my turn signal before someone could beat me to it again. First, I tried to park forward. I usually managed that better, as it was at least not quite as complicated as reversing. But when the wheels of my car touched the curb, I grumbled in annoyance.

Crap.

Missed the right angle again.

Or didn't turn the wheel right.

Or did something else wrong...

The list of mistakes one could make while parking seemed endless. I made them all. Again and again.

Luckily, my second parking attempt worked out. Relieved, I turned off the engine and reached for my light green shoulder bag, which was lying on the passenger seat.

Should have been lying.

Where was that damn thing again?

I had just spent a good twenty minutes looking for the bag earlier and found it next to the laundry box in the bathroom instead of on the coat rack. Now I quickly looked under the seat. Nothing. This damn car wasn't that big.

Hastily, I got out and opened the trunk. There lay the bag. As if it always lay there. Even though I always put it on the passenger seat. Usually. I must have been very distracted when I put it in the trunk.

Relieved, I grabbed my bag, hurried down the small side street as fast as I could, and turned right at its end. I would soon reach my workplace. A well-known five-star hotel on Crosby Street, a quieter street on the edge of New York's bustling Soho district. I liked working here because we had guests from all over the world: tourists, business travelers, and artists who wanted to be inspired by the New York atmosphere and enjoy their stay.

Nervously, I looked at the clock on my phone. SHIT. My shift at the reception had started over fifteen minutes ago. Normally, I entered the hotel through the service entrance, but since that was at the back of the hotel, it would cost me an additional five minutes.

Determined, I headed for the main entrance, which was actually reserved for guests, and hurried past Jim, the doorman, with a friendly nod. Inside, I was greeted by the calm atmosphere for which our hotel was known. Muted classical music played from the ceiling speakers, and my colleagues rushed past me almost silently. I hadn't changed yet, and my street shoes squeaked unpleasantly loud on the polished floor. Damn. I should have used the back entrance after all.

"Isabella! Finally!" My colleague Gina looked up reproachfully as I hurried to the reception. "Where have you been for so long?"

"I couldn't find a parking spot. I'm sorry," I apologized for being late and tried to continue walking. Behind the reception, a door led to the staff area. My uniform, name tag, and other shoes were waiting for me there.

"Then leave earlier next time!" Gina held me by the arm and completely ignored my words. "You're never on time."

"That..." I started to defend myself, but then stopped. Words wouldn't get me anywhere here, that much I had already learned. Gina was just Gina, and I had to take her as she was if I wanted to keep this job. And I did want to keep it.

The hotel job was a long-cherished dream of mine, for which I had worked hard. Just a year ago, I had been working in my friend Leanna's shop, first selling cupcakes and later wedding cakes. I had really enjoyed interacting with customers. But I knew my goal: I wanted to work in a hotel and have even more contact with people from all over the world. Luckily, Leanna wasn't upset that I wanted to leave my position with her; instead, she supported my plans. I had taken an evening course and then spent a long time looking for a suitable job. At first, I only got offers from third-rate motels looking for cheap cleaning staff. But after a few months, I finally found this position here on Crosby Street.

I smiled happily at the memory.

"It's really not funny that you're constantly late," Gina snapped.

"Miss Abbott!" Before I could respond, an oily, slimy voice behind me made me jump.

"Yes?" I replied reluctantly and turned around. I looked directly into the small, piggy eyes of my boss, Emmett Kershaw. The sight of him made me swallow, and a chill ran down my spine. I couldn't stand this guy. He had only bought the hotel a week ago. Since then, he'd been strutting around as if he were the Emperor of China. The King of Wall Street. The Greatest of All Time. He probably had to act like this because he was actually very short. And he probably also had to constantly belittle, insult, or unfairly criticize someone for the same reason.

"As I just heard, you're late again!"

"I had trouble finding a parking spot."

"Wasn't that the case yesterday as well?"

"Yes," I admitted reluctantly. "The parking situation isn't very good."

"You do know that you can rent a parking space in our underground garage for $100 a month? Why don't you do that?"

"I... uh... I can't afford that," I stammered embarrassedly, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.

"What do you mean, you can't afford it? Don't we pay a good salary?"

"Uh..." I said and fell silent helplessly.

"Why are you even driving a car? You always used to come by subway before!" Now Gina was siding with Mr. Kershaw too. I shot her a venomous look. She had apparently never heard of solidarity among colleagues.

"Well?" Emmett Kershaw looked at me questioningly.

I took a deep breath. "Lately, there have been more overtime hours, and I don't feel comfortable in the subway at night. So I decided to come by car."

"Are you trying to say you have to work too much?"

"No..." I began. Heaven! These two were twisting every word in my mouth.

"I wonder what you do all day anyway! You're responsible for the entrance area. You're late for work at the reception, so your colleagues have to stay longer. You don't really want to work longer either, as I just heard. And yesterday, you accidentally sent a guest to the wrong room, which was still occupied."

"That was misinformation from the cleaning team. They reported that the room was empty and ready when it wasn't. We've addressed it. It won't happen again."

"Won't happen again," Mr. Kershaw snorted. "That was exactly one time too many. And anyway... what kind of impression are guests supposed to get of our hotel? Not just the ones who were sent to the wrong room. All of them!"

"What do you mean?" I had no idea what my boss was talking about.

"Just look around!" Emmett Kershaw waved his arm through the air. I followed the hand movement with my eyes. My gaze wandered over the large glass windows that reached to the floor, the low tables and elegant black and white leather sofas for waiting guests, the selection of magazines, and the polished floor.

Everything seemed normal.

What was the man talking about?

I looked at him, puzzled.

"Everything's withered! Everything's dead! There's not a single plant here that's still alive!" Emmett Kershaw made another gesture encompassing the entire lobby and then looked at me angrily. "This is your responsibility."

"I... um... I'm not particularly good at taking care of plants. I watered them every day, but..." I shrugged helplessly.

"Every day? That's a lie! No plant that's watered every day can have such brown, drooping leaves!"

This time, I actually agreed with Emmett Kershaw. A plant that was watered couldn't really wither, could it? But since I had walked through the lobby with the watering can every single day, stopping at each plant and giving it water, it apparently was possible.

"How about we hire a company for plant care?" I suggested. "I submitted a request for that a month ago. But due to the ongoing takeover of our hotel by you, Mr. Kershaw, all approvals for additional costs were put on hold. The takeover is now complete, and we could bring in someone to professionally care for the plants." I beamed at Mr. Kershaw. With exactly the smile I reserved for particularly annoying guests. Fortunately, we didn't have many of those, but of course it happened from time to time.

"Do you think I bought this hotel so that even more money could be spent here?" Emmett Kershaw growled at me.

"Exactly! We need to save money!" Such a comment could only come from Gina. Couldn't this "colleague" finally go home? She had just complained about me being late, and now she was still hanging around here, sucking up to our boss and badmouthing me. Emmett Kershaw whirled around and glared sharply at Gina.

"You will take over plant care from now on," he ordered.

"But..." Gina obviously hadn't expected this response.

"No buts! Or do you want to refuse work too, just like your fine colleague here?" With these words, Mr. Kershaw pointed at me. Gina just shook her head silently.

Refuse work?

I must have heard wrong. I certainly wouldn't let that slide! I worked hard, even if the plants weren't thriving as I'd like them to.

"I'm not refusing work!" My voice sounded sharper than intended, but this pint-sized man with the pig eyes was really getting on my nerves.

"I've already told you once: You come in late. You still don't want a parking space. You don't want to stay longer. You make mistakes. You're not capable of doing your job properly. And you're not even wearing your work uniform." Mr. Kershaw now reminded me of a hissing snake. He took a step closer to me. Since he was barely taller than me, our faces were now very close. Uncomfortably close. Involuntarily, I raised my hand to wipe a drop of spit from my cheek. Mr. Kershaw actually hissed. And he hissed wetly.

"What would you do with such an employee?" he asked now, firing off another drop of spit in my direction.

I owed him no answer. Maybe he would leave sooner if I said nothing. And hopefully, he would take Gina with him. I just wanted to do my work in peace.

"You're fired, Miss Abbott! I can't use you here."

The words only slowly penetrated my brain. "What?"

Fired?

I had lost my job?

That... that couldn't be.

That MUST NOT be.

"You can't just fire me like that!" I protested now.

Emmett Kershaw let out a bleating laugh. "Oh no? It seems you've forgotten who's in charge here. Of course I can fire you. I can fire anyone I want to fire here."

"But why? Why do I have to go?"

"I am the boss here!" Emmett Kershaw obviously hated being contradicted. "You're fired."

I was slowly starting to get scared. Emmett Kershaw seemed to be serious. Then... then I was unemployed. My chest tightened and my throat constricted. Unemployed. I couldn't afford that.

"I need this job!" I blurted out.

Emmett Kershaw laughed bleatingy. "You should have thought about that earlier. If you need a job so badly, you should do your work properly and come on time!"

"That's what I want to do! I'll improve, I promise." I hated myself for how pleading I sounded at that moment. Begging this man with his pig eyes and his ruler complex for a job was really the last thing I wanted to do. The very last thing.

But I had told the truth: I needed the job. Most of my monthly income went directly to the bank to pay off the loan for the apartment I lived in. The loan was far too high for me alone. About a year and a half ago, I had bought an apartment together with my then-boyfriend Owen. Looking back, it was pretty hasty after only six months of relationship, but I was deeply in love and convinced that we would both be happy together forever. As it turned out, Owen's ideas of happiness were different from mine. Only six months after we moved in, my evening class had been canceled and I had wanted to surprise Owen by coming home early.

I had succeeded. I had not only surprised him but also one of his colleagues. The two had just been enjoying themselves in our bed. Not for the first time, as I found out later. When Owen explained to me that I never had time for him and therefore it was normal for him to seek distraction elsewhere, I threw him out.

Since then, he had disappeared, and I was left alone with the loan. I couldn't sell the apartment because I needed Owen's consent for that. Without him, I could at most hand the apartment over to the bank, as stipulated in the loan agreement. But that was out of the question: I would only make a loss. So I paid off the loan every month and just managed to make ends meet with my earnings.

But if that money fell away...

I didn't even want to think about it.

"I really need this job!" I looked pleadingly into Emmett Kershaw's pig eyes. There was no emotion to be seen in them.

"You should have thought about that earlier." Gina's malicious voice behind me was the last thing I needed.

"Please give me another chance!" Again, I looked at Mr. Kershaw imploringly.

"Pack your things. You're getting on my nerves. Somehow you remind me of..." The rest of Mr. Kershaw's sentence was lost in some mumbling. I thought I heard the word "Rachel".

Rachel?

Was the guy firing me because I reminded him of his wife? Or his ex?

"Mr. Kershaw..." I started one last attempt.

"GET OUT!" Emmett Kershaw pointed to the door with an outstretched arm. "If you don't leave immediately, I'll call security. And I'll make sure you won't find a job anywhere else!"

I stared at my boss in shock.

My ex-boss.

"Well? What are you waiting for?"

I looked over at the door. My eyes met Jim's gaze across the hall. I had gotten along well with the nice porter from the beginning. He reminded me of my grandfather. Jim shook his head slightly.

I nodded. He was right. This was pointless.

"Alright then." I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, nodded to Mr. Kershaw, turned around, and walked with firm steps across the polished floor towards the exit. My shoes squeaked again, but it didn't bother me in the slightest now. Let everyone see that I was leaving the hotel with my head held high.

"You'll have to cover this shift," I heard Emmett Kershaw say to Gina behind me.

As I stood on the street, enveloped by fog and drizzle, I let my head drop. Slowly, I walked towards my parking spot, which I had fought so hard to get.

Fired.

My account was empty, and in two weeks the next loan payment was due. If I didn't pay, the bank would put me out on the street.

I hadn't told my family or friends about my debts. My pride hadn't allowed it. Everyone, literally everyone around me, had warned me about Owen. I had ignored all advice and done what I thought was right.

I had only myself to blame for my problems.

That's why I wanted to solve them on my own.

So far, I had managed quite well.

But now I was ruined.

Emmett Kershaw's threat still rang in my ears.

And I'll make sure you won't find a job anywhere else!

What if he actually did that? He owned many businesses in New York. He knew plenty of important people.

How was I supposed to go on?

You're really in a pickle, Isabella Abbott. A real mess.