Faking Ms. Right (Dirty Martini Running Club, #1)

by Claire Kingsley

I figured if more people made an effort to be friendly, the world would be a much better place.

I hated Svetlana. She was a ridiculously gorgeous Bulgarian model—tall, slender, big boobs. A woman that heartless should never have been granted such phenomenal beauty. But the fact that she was stunning wasn’t why I hated her. I loathed her because I knew she was only with Mr. Calloway for his money.

As if he’d marry her. Ugh. The very thought made my skin crawl.

But me? Miss Everly Dalton? I was the only assistant he’d ever had who could actually handle him. Really, I kind of got off on it. I liked having access to the man everyone was afraid of. The man with the power in this place. I liked the respect my position earned me. Outside these walls, people took me for a sugary-sweet, plain as vanilla, boring blond girl with a big smile.

Martini Mondays. Taco Tuesdays. Wine Wednesdays. Thirsty Thursdays. Fast-food Fridays (don’t judge).

“I’m sorry, I just never liked her. It was so obvious she didn’t care about you, she just wanted your money.” “And that bothered you?” “Well, yeah. I know we’re not… I mean, we aren’t really… we’re not friends or anything. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care. I didn’t like the way she treated you. You deserve better.”

After the champagne and the Manhattan, I was in danger of bypassing a little tipsy and heading straight for telling inappropriate stories and asking strangers for hugs. Not that I’d ever done that before. Okay, yes I had.

I hadn’t slept well. I’d been haunted by visions of a blond woman in a red dress. Where had she come from? The woman who’d posed as my girlfriend last night could not have been my assistant. Everly was just… Everly. She was punctual, efficient, hard-working, and yes, pleasant to look at. But the woman who’d answered my summons last night had been something else. She’d been stunning. Confident and sexy. And charming as fuck. She’d had my dad in the palm of her hand after just a few words. Her performance had been utter perfection.

He turned the corner at my desk, and just as I was about to fall in step behind him, he stopped. Looked up from his phone and met my eyes. “Good morning, Everly.” “Good morning,” I managed to croak through my shock.

Steve looked like he’d just witnessed a miracle. Or maybe a murder. His eyes were wide, and his mouth hung open.

“It turns out my father has bigger problems than Svetlana.” “Worse than that harpy?” I asked, then clicked my mouth shut. Oh my god, why had I said that? I hadn’t even been drinking.

Lmaoooo 😭

“So you need a fake girlfriend.” “Precisely. I’m glad we’re on the same page. I’ll need you to move in.” “Wait,” I said, holding up a finger. I felt like I’d blacked out and missed part of our conversation. Move in? What the hell was he talking about? “Not on the same page. I don’t think we’re reading the same book. Move in? What?”

We stared at each other, like we were both shocked at our own outbursts. And our copious dropping of f-bombs.

“I’ll pay you.” Damn right he was going to pay me.

“Richard Gere was sleeping with Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman,” Nora said.

Svetlana’s eyes were on me, now, and Everly tightened her grip on my hand. Just a slight pressure, but I felt it. A subtle shift of her feet, and her body angled closer to mine. There was a certain possessiveness in her stance. I could feel it, and I had no doubt Svetlana could see it.

My bitch said mine 🤣😩

We were both adults. This didn’t have to be a big deal.

I didn’t like the idea of finding traces of another woman here. Call me territorial, but I was going to be the only woman in my fake boyfriend’s life. While we were still faking it, of course.

Yes ma’am 🤭

I’d never given it a lot of thought, but sharing a bed was awfully intimate. There was a certain vulnerability to it. Shepherd was an exceedingly private person, and he never made decisions without careful consideration. The fact that he trusted me enough for this was oddly touching. It made me want to be the best fake girlfriend ever.

“I made dinner reservations for us.” “Dinner?” “Yes, dinner. The meal that usually takes place after work. And sometimes people have dinner together. At a restaurant.” Oh my god, was he teasing me? My mouth turned up in a small smile. “Shepherd, are you making a joke?”

“Fine. Everly, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” “Why, yes, Shepherd, I’d love to.” “Seven,” he said, turning back to his laptop. “Lovely,” I said, and went back to my desk.

view. With gentle hands, Shepherd swept my hair out of the collar of my coat, his eyes on my face. I couldn’t stop staring at him. At his fierce eyes and square jaw. This close, his scent was almost intoxicating. How could a man smell so good all the time? Honestly, did he have a single flaw?

“Everly, don’t be silly.” “I’m not being silly. Not in the least. He’s in love with me, and we’re very committed to each other.” “Perhaps it seems that way now, but it won’t last.” “No? Then why did he propose?” I stopped, my body freezing in place. Did she just say propose? As in marriage? “He… what?” Svetlana asked. “He proposed,” Everly said. “We’re getting married.”

“Oh, Shep, we need to throw you an engagement party. Svetlana loves parties. She can help me plan. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of everything.” Svetlana’s expression was uncharacteristically shocked. Her mouth moved like she was trying to speak but couldn’t find the right words. “That does sound fun,” Everly said.

“I care. I know that you don’t use people. I mean, sure, the women you date always fit the same mold, so it’s no wonder your relationships don’t last. But I couldn’t let her get away with saying those things about you. Not when she’s the one who uses people. She’s using your dad, and he’s one of the nicest men I’ve ever met.”

I hadn’t meant to blurt out that we were engaged. It wasn’t like that had been part of our plan, so I understood why Shepherd was frustrated. But Svetlana made me so angry. I was usually something of a conflict avoider—or conflict smoother-overer, really—but I just couldn’t deal with her. She had the nerve to say Shepherd was just using me? As if he’d been the problem in their relationship? Shepherd was many things, but at his core, he was a good man.

But it was okay. I’d fix it.

I cast a nervous glance at Steve. He looked stricken, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging open. He watched me get up, staring as if I were being led to my execution.

Her ring would certainly be a deterrent. No man would hit on her when she was wearing that thing. Unexpected benefit of Everly now posing as my fiancée: She had my ring to mark her as mine.

I smelled the shampoo again. Fuck it. Squeezing a glob of pink into my hand, I inhaled as the scent of strawberries filled the air. Bracing myself with one hand against the tile, I grabbed my solid erection and started to stroke.

“Where’s your ring?” She held her hand out and glanced down at it. “Oh, I took it off to go running.” It was the oddest thing. We’d already decided that she wouldn’t wear it in the office; she was concerned about the gossip and I agreed it was best to keep things quiet at work. But there was a deeply primal part of me that wanted to insist—no, command—that she wear my ring at all other times. Running, shopping, out with her friends drinking martinis—I wanted that ring on her finger.

More than once I noticed a man eying our table, only to turn away as soon as his gaze found my left hand. No one approached Nora or Hazel, either, as if my ring created an invisible barrier that extended all the way around our little table.

But Everly slipped her arms around my waist and rested her head on my chest. I held her close, ignoring the line I was crossing. My dad was here now, so it stood to reason I could do this—hold her and stroke her arm with so much familiarity. But I wasn’t doing it for him, any more than I’d held her hand for show. This had nothing to do with our ruse, and I didn’t give a fuck. I wanted this. Needed it. Needed her.

I didn’t look away, losing myself in her eyes—those sparkling pools of blue. Neither did she. Her expression changed, her smile fading into a look of resolve. She grabbed my shirt, right in the center of my chest, popped up on her tip toes, and kissed me. Her soft lips pressed against mine for a few seconds before she pulled back. Her eyes widened and she took a breath as if to say something. I didn’t wait to find out what it was.

Kissing her had changed everything. I felt it, deep in my chest.

She didn’t know it yet, but I was about to trust her with one of my biggest secrets. The thought left me feeling raw, like an open wound. I wasn’t used to this. But instead of shying away—burying myself in work—I let it happen. Felt the uncertainty, acknowledged it, and decided I was doing it anyway.

The bass drum had the band name on it—Incognito. The drummer beat the drums, sweat gleaming on his forehead. A guitar player sang backup into a mic next to the lead singer. The bass player stood toward the back of the stage where the light was dim. My eyes almost passed over him—where the heck was Shepherd?—when I did a double take. Oh my god. The bass player looked exactly like Shepherd. Holy shit. It was Shepherd.

I’d seen Shepherd Calloway looking every bit the hot, wealthy businessman in a designer tux or a perfectly-tailored suit.

But this? I’d never dreamed I’d see Shepherd like this. Messy and a little sweaty, playing bass in a band at a dive bar? He was so sexy I thought I might die.

“Hey.” I blinked at him a few times, realizing too late that I was staring, open-mouthed. “Hey. Sorry. I’m just… I didn’t know you played. Or owned jeans.” “Yeah, well, I’d get hot up there in a suit.” You’re hot right now, Shepherd. Oh my god are you hot.

Nora had been wrong about catching feelings. There was no catching involved. They smashed into me, shattering into my soul with a million tiny sparks, filling me with a warm tingly sensation. He turned back, meeting my gaze, a disarming openness in his eyes. Right there, in that exact moment, I did a terrible, terrible thing. I fell in love with my boss.

I lowered the zipper. His grip on my ass tightened and he pulled back slightly. “I’m not fucking you for the first time in the back seat of my car.” First time… first time implied a second time which implied multiple times. I wasn’t just crossing a line out here. I was getting a running start and leaping over it, leaving the line far behind.

“I know,” I said and returned to kissing him while my fingers worked his zipper the rest of the way down. “I just want these out of my way.”

He pulled my panties to the side, bringing my wet folds in direct contact with his shaft. I moaned and he grunted as I slowly slid along his length. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” “We can’t, can we?” He groaned as I slid back down. “No. I won’t go in. Not here. But… fuck, you feel so good.”

Our mouths separated and we both looked down, watching as I rubbed my slit up and down the outside of his glistening cock. It would have been so easy for him to reach in and pick up his dick so I could slide on. Forget the condom situation and fuck me right here.

“Yes, baby,” he said. “Don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop.”

“We’re going home and I’m going to fuck the shit out of you when we get there.”

“Come here.” She moved toward me, stepping out of her heels, and pulled her shirt over her head, letting it drop to the floor. Good girl.

There was no hesitation. No pausing to appreciate the exquisiteness of her pussy wrapped around my dick. I needed to fuck her, and I needed to fuck her hard.

My dick was still achingly hard. I couldn’t get enough of her. I drove in deep, fucking her with everything I had. She was hot and wet and perfect, her pussy tight around me, her nipples dragging across my chest.