Speed Bump
. . .
Cade
Shocked silence thrummed down the line, and I waited patiently for my brother to process the bomb I’d just dropped.
“What—What did you just say?” Harrison eventually choked out.
This was a terrible idea.
I thought quickly, weaving together an easy lie. “We’re keeping it quiet until she can tell her family in person, but I’m getting married.”
The last thing I needed was our mother hearing about this, but I’d say whatever it took to get on that yacht.
“… To who? What the hell, Cade?” He gave a short, incredulous laugh, before his tone turned cutting. “If you had a girlfriend, I’d know about it. You would’ve brought her to my wedding.”
My lips formed a thin line. “We weren’t engaged then. It was still new.”
Very new, apparently.
“But… Wait. What?” He stumbled over the words, sounding dazed. “What’s her name?”
I swallowed a few colorful curses and closed my eyes, racking my brain. But I couldn’t think past the first name that popped into my head.
Screw it.
“Ellie,” I said, barely refraining from cringing as I forced my eyes open. “Her name’s Ellie.”
The second her name left my mouth, I wanted to shove it back in. What the hell was I doing?
“Ellie,” Harrison echoed slowly. “Huh. Can’t really picture you with an Ellie.”
What did that mean?
He made a strangled sound. “But if you’re engaged, then why haven’t I met her yet?”
I said the first excuse I could think of. “She’s shy.”
“Shy?”
“You’ll meet her on the trip,” I said. “If this means we’re invited now?”
The line went quiet until Harrison muttered a curse. “Maddie will kill me for messing with the guest list last minute, but yeah. Yeah, of course you’re in. I need to meet this… fiancée.”
He murmured the last word like he couldn’t believe it was real, and I didn’t blame him.
I was already regretting this.
“Good. Send me the details.” Another thought hit me. “And don’t mention the engagement to anyone but Madison. We’re holding off on an announcement until her family knows.”
That was a lie, but the fewer people involved, the easier it would be to claim this was all temporary insanity when I unceremoniously called off the “engagement” later.
“Of course,” Harrison promised. “My lips are sealed.”
“See you tomorrow.” I hung up.
A brief flash of pride hit—I was one step closer to the old man awarding me the promotion.
This wouldn’t even be that big of an inconvenience compared to what else I’d done for the job.
I could hire an actress to play along with the engagement charade on the yacht, then claim she’d called off the wedding shortly after the trip ended.
I just needed to wait for word to travel back to Grandfather that I could play nice with his little ultimatums, and the promotion was mine.
There was just one speed bump: I had less than twenty-four hours to find someone to be my fiancée for a week.
Ellie and her unicorn costume came to mind first, like an unwelcome guest.
Would it really be the craziest idea to hire her “services” for a week and convince her to play along with the ruse? Her job required an NDA. She could be discreet. I’d pay her more than enough to make it worth her while.
But I couldn’t afford to risk this promotion on a wild card like her. It called for a professional.
Pushing Ellie’s wide blue eyes from my mind, I texted my assistant, Nate, to put out the word to local talent agencies and line up a handful of actresses who had the availability to start a job tomorrow.
By the time I got home from work, I’d finalized the plan.
Nate had put together a file of available actresses, and I spread their CVs out on my desk.
There were acting credits including minor roles that wouldn’t be enough to be recognized on the street, a few modeling gigs, and one had even done a few years on Broadway.
Their headshots were all gorgeous and professional.
All the candidates seemed perfectly qualified to spend a week convincing my brother that they liked me enough to get married. I couldn’t picture any of them turning down the rate I was ready to offer.
But the mental fog that lingered from not sleeping well had my thoughts straying back to Ellie.
It’d been idiotic to say her name earlier, even though it wouldn’t matter because my security could get fake IDs made for whomever I hired.
I palmed my phone, weighing the option of hiring her instead. She may not be an actress, but her job involved roleplaying. She’d sweet-talked her way into a secure building, and she hadn’t crumpled under pressure when I’d pinned her to my bed.
All good qualities for someone going undercover. Plus, she clearly needed the money.
I’d be doing her a favor.
It might be a little selfish, too, because getting a week of quality sleep would make me unstoppable.
That was my only explanation for leaning back in my chair and downloading the Sunshine Cuddle Services app.
The app forced me to create a profile before I could access anything. I added the bare minimum—including a mandatory payment method on file—and then it allowed me to browse. Text appeared at the top of the screen once my profile was set up:
Choose your App Theme!
There were a bunch of pastel colors and animal options ranging from otters to hat-wearing elephants. I had to fight a smile at a unicorn one sitting there like an inside joke.
Why not?
Choosing the unicorn theme turned the app purple and morphed the buttons into clouds.
Then it was easy enough to search for Ellie’s profile.
And there she was—her smiling selfie profile picture with bright blue eyes and matching hair.
She held a fluffy cat with the grumpiest expression I’d ever seen on an animal.
It was the polar opposite of all the headshots on my desk.
Her name sat underneath the picture in glittery blue font:
Ellie Darling.
I stared at the screen for a long beat. She even used a fake last name like some sort of family-friendly stripper.
Probably for the best on an app that must attract all sorts of questionable clientele.
A little gold crown sparkled next to Ellie’s name, like she was cuddling royalty. The app had a scheduling page to book appointments with her, along with a “Get to Know the Cuddler” page that listed more about her.
Ellie’s Likes: Cats. Chocolate. Crocheting. Cuddling. Dance parties. Blanket burritos.
Ellie’s Dislikes: Wet socks. Rage bait. Soggy cereal.
Ellie’s Biggest Fears: Snakes. Heights. Sewers. Getting my shoelace stuck in an escalator.
Why would clients need to know their cuddler’s fears? This looked more like a dating app than anything professional.
The more I saw of her profile, the more I realized how foolish it’d be to hire a woman just because I’d slept well next to her.
With my mind made up, I swiped to close the app—but my thumb brushed one of the icons on Ellie’s profile, and a few cheery musical notes played. A bunch of colorful balloon hearts floated up from the bottom of the screen before a text box appeared:
A virtual unicorn plushie has been sent to Ellie Darling from Cade Westbrook. She’ll receive the item shortly. Thank you for supporting Sunshine Cuddle Services and have a sunshine-y day! <3
My blood ran cold.
“What the hell?” I murmured, staring at the pop-up with growing dread. There wasn’t a button to undo it, and I could only watch, frozen, as a virtual stuffed unicorn pranced across the screen before winking at me.
I’d never heard of virtual unicorn plushies before, but couldn’t they add a simple confirmation box before sending one?
And now Ellie would know I’d looked up her profile.
… Fuck.