Forbidden Neighbor: A Contemporary Romance Boxset (Forbidden Saga Book 2)

by Summer Brooks

  The drive to the restaurant didn't take long and when we stepped out of the car together, heads were turning immediately. I was used to it but Myra clearly wasn't and it was cute to watch her under the limelight. She was slightly uncomfortable, but she carried it well, which was a good sign. I needed a woman who was modest but who wasn't going to act star struck everywhere we went. I had a lot of semi-famous friends that she would need to meet if she agreed to be my pretend girlfriend, or possibly my wife.

  I had it all planned out. I had thought about her all afternoon, and if she passed the test of this evening, then I was going to propose the idea to her. Of course, I expected her to agree to it. She was working as a maid, so she could clearly use the money that I would offer.

  She smiled at me brightly as I led her to the door of the new hip restaurant, full of all of the city's "it" people. Myra held her head high as we were escorted to our table. After I took the liberty of ordering us a bottle of champagne, I turned my full focus on her. We were seated at an intimate table for two in a nook of the restaurant that was quiet enough for us to have an uninterrupted conversation, as I had requested. We were close to a window, where the reds and purples of the setting sun could be admired over our appetizers that would soon arrive.

  "So, Myra," I started, "I had no idea that Sophie was going to hire such a remarkable replacement, but I am glad she did."

  "Well, thank you," she said, her pretty blue eyes sparkling. "I kind of went out on a limb by applying, but I’m glad I did as well. I think that your home is lovely, and I'm happy that I can be of assistance."

  I nodded, keeping my gaze on her as our glasses were poured. She waited for me to pick up my glass before she did the same, and demurely took a sip. "This is excellent," she commented.

  "My favorite," I agreed, setting down my glass. "So, I understand that your background is in finance, like you mentioned this morning?"

  She nodded. "It is. I was, um, laid off recently, which is why I applied for the staff position in your home. But yes, finance is my passion, if that makes any sense. I really do love crunching numbers and the study of economics has always interested me."

  She was certainly more intelligent than most women I kept company with.

  "Are you from San Francisco?" I asked, wanting to know everything about her.

  She tucked her hair behind her ear. "Oh no. I grew up in a smaller town in northern California. My parents are still there, actually."

  "I see. Do you remain close with them?"

  "I do. I have to talk to my mother at least a couple times a week or else she thinks I'm dead." She laughed. "You know how mothers can be."

  The faint wave of sadness anytime anyone mentioned my mother passed through my heart, although it had happened enough times now that I was used to it and it didn't faze me, or register on my face anymore. "Yes, I do," I said, curbing that train of conversation before it went any further. "That's sweet of you to indulge her."

  "She's a sweet lady," Myra said. "My whole family is."

  "I can tell. You seem like a well-rounded woman, I’m certain that it takes a special family to raise someone like yourself."

  Myra laughed. "You're too kind." She took another sip of champagne and I watched her every movement. I had found exactly who I was looking for without even leaving my house. Talk about luck. I was going to ask her tonight. Even her laugh was elegant and perfect, like that of a young girl.

  "So, about your software issues, when would you like me to get you set up? We can do it anytime. It will only take me a couple hours to get your account set up on your computer, and then I can quickly show you all the shortcuts so that you can handle it yourself from here on out." She paused, then added, "I really do love doing stuff like that, so don't feel like you are asking too much, please."

  "I would be honored to have your help, Myra. How about tomorrow afternoon?"

  "That would be perfect," she grinned, just as the waiter set down a lavish tray of olives and grapes hummus before us.

  "This looks too pretty to eat," she commented. I could say the same about her, I thought. On second thought, that wasn't exactly accurate. She looked pretty enough that I almost felt like I needed to eat her. I kept my dirty thoughts to myself and instead ate an olive.

  All through our meal, she caught me up on her past, answering all my questions about her college days and her upbringing, and what she liked to do on the weekends.

  "You know," she commented towards the end of our meal. "I have to admit that I was all wrong about you." She was just a little tipsy from the champagne that we were now on our second bottle of.

  I raised my eyebrows. "Is that so?" I asked, amused. "I didn't know that you had already judged me."

  She giggled. "Well, it was hard not to. I mean, you are depicted a certain way in the public eye, and…well, I just want you to know that they're wrong about you. You're a perfect gentleman, and I'm glad that we can be friends. I’m so sorry you have to deal with the public being so critical of you. You don't seem at all like the careless playboy they make you out to be."

  Now it was my turn to be flattered. "Well, unfortunately, that is how most everyone views me. I am thankful that you have come to a different conclusion."

  "Definitely," she said, meeting my eyes and then quickly glancing away. "Thank you for everything. I am having a really great time, and I'm glad that I can be helpful to you in more ways than simply keeping your home dust-free."

  I cleared my throat and put on my best smile, one that ensured no woman would tell me no. I’d used it many times in my life, but this time perhaps more than ever before, I needed a yes. "Actually, there is one other way that you could help me."

  She set down her glass. "Sure, what can I do?" She asked, sounding lighthearted.

  "As you know, I have a certain reputation, and I would like your help in alleviating me of that. You see, my father would like for nothing more than to see me settle down with a nice woman, one much like yourself."

  I heard her breath catch in her throat, but she said nothing. I continued, "He doesn't think I am trustworthy enough to be a business partner with my brothers when it comes to running his company, and if I could show him that I was settled down with a wonderful, intelligent woman like you, his mind would be put at ease."

  "What are you asking me to do, exactly?" she asked cautiously.

  "I would like you to act as my girlfriend, and possibly more. Of course, this is only for public optics. I expect nothing more of you behind closed doors. I'm not a monster. I only need you to attend events with me, and meet my family, and act as my significant other when in the public eye. You'll be compensated very well for this arrangement, of course. I will pay you at least double of whatever your salary was at the firm."

  Her face slowly morphed before my eyes. Where I’d expected to see an excited smile at the proposition, I now saw annoyance.

  "You want me to be your fake girlfriend so that your father will relinquish rights to his company to you?" she asked with incredulity.

  Before I could answer, she had thrown her napkin on the table and stood up. "I think I'll be going now. I guess I really did think wrong about you." She started toward the exit angrily.

  "Myra, wait," I called. She didn't turn around.

  Shit. I tossed a wad of cash onto the table and started after her, not catching up until we were outside the restaurant.

  "I'm going home," she announced. "If you still want me on your staff, I will be at work tomorrow, but other than that, I think our partnership should stay there."

  "Please, don't go yet. We haven't even had dessert."

  She held up her hand. "I'm suddenly not hungry. I honestly thought that you really wanted to discuss business matters with me, and I’m not interested in being your fake girlfriend to get your dad and the reporters off your back."

  "Fair enough," I said, backing off. "At least let me take you home. We're all the way across town."

  She frowned, then agreed. "Alright," she said,
following me to the car where my driver was waiting. She opened the door for herself and got in, but turned away from me in the seat and stared out the window. She made it clear that she wasn't interested in any more pleasant banter like we’d been carrying on all evening.

  When we were nearly to her apartment, she finally turned to me. "Look, Alec, I apologize for storming out at dinner. I really did have a great time. You have to understand, though, I’m going through a tough transition in my life. I never thought I'd be working as a maid after college." She sighed. "I've had quite a few blows to my ego these past few weeks. I understand your proposition, and I know you aren't trying to take advantage of me. You're a nice guy, but I just don't think I can do what you are asking."

  "That is perfectly fine, Myra. Thank you for being honest with me. Hopefully we can keep up this honesty with each other throughout our time together. You don't have to do this if you don't want to. I just thought it might be a mutually beneficial arrangement." I shrugged. "No pressure, but if you do change your mind, then please let me know."

  She shook her head as we pulled up near her building. "Let me walk you to your door, just so I can be sure you've gotten inside safely."

  She smiled slightly, and I slid out first then offered her my hand, which she took. We walked the short distance to her door and she pulled out her keycard to enter the building. After three tries, it continued to be denied. She looked confused until an older woman dressed in a business suit came out and met her eyes.

  "Myra," she laughed. "I didn't expect to see you here. I cancelled your key card, assuming you had forgotten to tell me you were moving out." The woman had an arrogance to her that was sickening.

  "No, I haven't moved," Myra explained.

  "Well, you haven't paid your rent, so I suggest you maybe start looking for a new place. I can't activate that card until I have a check, you know that. This building is in high demand and there's no place for stragglers here." The woman stalked off, letting the door slam shut behind her and locking Myra out.

  Tears sprang to her eyes.

  I reached for her but she turned away.

  "Myra, let me help you. Please. Just come home with me and we can talk about…"

  "Talk about what? The fact that I am a total failure and you're a successful businessman?" She retorted.

  Tears threatened to spill over but she held them back.

  "No, let's talk about the fact that I like you and I am in a position to help you get back on your feet. Just come home with me and we'll figure this out." She turned to look at me, defeated.

  "You know I have plenty of room. Just come stay with me until you get back into the financial field. You can help me, and I can help you, what do you say?"

  "I don't need handouts," she insisted.

  "This isn't a handout, Myra. This is a mutually beneficial arrangement, like I said.”

  The wind picked up and she wrapped her arms around herself. It was getting late and I could tell she was tired.

  "Alright, but just temporarily. This is all temporary. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

  "I know you are." And I did. She was clearly better at it than I was. "But we all need help sometimes."

  7

  Myra

  "I can't accept this offer," I said, looking away.

  I was back in Alec's home, still wearing my little red cocktail dress, and I was starting to feel like a hooker. I high class hooker at least, but still.

  It's true that I had chosen this dress to wear in an attempt to impress Alec. Maybe to also attract his attention in a certain way, which was probably wrong since he was my employer, but I had done it anyway. Who wouldn't? Alec was damn near irresistible. But I had to resist. This wasn't right. This was seedy, sleazy, dishonest, and just wrong in every way.

  Yet, I had nowhere to go at this point, except crawling back to my parents. That bitch of a landlord had already taken action against me, and I was going to pay my rent with my first paycheck. The building had very strict rules against late payments, yes, but she could have at least given me notice.

  "Why not?" Alec pressed, pouring me a glass of brandy and sliding it my way. He took a seat across from me on the sofa. We were in his lounge and he had started a cozy fire in the fireplace. I admit this place was comfortable. A lot more so than my condo.

  "Because it's dishonest," I said.

  Alec paused, thinking for a moment. "Maybe a little bit, yes. But it's also going to bring my father peace in his last days. That isn't such a horrible thing to do, is it?"

  "No, it's not…but…I'm…" I sighed. "I don't know. I am in a really bad position right now."

  "So am I, Myra. That's why I would like for us to help each other. You can help me. I can help you. We are even. Why should both of us struggle in our ways when we don't have to?"

  He had a point. "So, what exactly do you have in mind, then? Give me details."

  Alec smiled, pleased that I was coming around. I didn't want to let on to him that I was considering it but I definitely was. I did need a place to live, and this would certainly help me get back on my feet.

  "I would like you to simply meet my family, attend some functions with me, and allow yourself to be photographed. Of course, if anyone spoke to you directly, you'd need to say everything necessary to make this look like a real relationship." He looked away. "There may need to be a few public kisses involved, but nothing more. I am not asking anything more of you."

  "And in exchange for this charade… I will get what? I just want our boundaries to be clear before I agree to anything."

  Alec looked me in the eye. "In exchange, you will be provided a free space in this home. For as long as you need. I can likely even help land you another job in finance. Plus, I will pay you a salary. Double of whatever you used to make. Just tell me how much, and I will write you the check."

  "What about my work as your housekeeper?" I asked.

  He chewed on his lip. "I will have to hire someone else for that. You can't pretend to be my partner and also clean my house. If someone sees you the cover will be blown."

  "So what will I do all day?" I asked.

  Alec shrugged. "You're an intelligent woman. I'm sure you can find something to occupy yourself. But to answer your question, you'll do whatever you want, unless I need you for an event."

  "So, let me get this straight," I said, slowly sipping my brandy. "You are basically offering me to be your roommate in exchange for pretending to be your girlfriend."

  Alec nodded. "Exactly. Now you're getting it." He cleared his throat and looked away. "Well, and soon, my fiancé."

  My eyes grew wide. "What? You didn't mention that part!"

  Alec reached across the table and put his hand on mine, and I tried my best to ignore the shivers it sent up my spine. "Look, my father has a terminal illness. He doesn’t have long to live, maybe a couple months. We don't have to do anything about the engagement, okay, but there will need to be one. He needs to see that I'm serious."

  "Even though you're not," I pointed out.

  "Would you quit doing that? Maybe I am serious! I mean, I know that it's time to clean up my act. This has all been a huge wake up call for me, you know."

  I shook my head. "What about me, though? Obviously, this engagement you are planning will be public. And what then? I am going to be known forever as the woman who was temporarily engaged to the west coast's biggest playboy. How do you think that's going to look on my resumé? It's going to be humiliating for me when the public thinks we're engaged and then you're seen out at the club with some supermodel on your arm."

  "All that is over if it means you'll help me," Alec promised. He looked into my eyes with sincerity. "No more playing. No more boozing and definitely no more hooking up with women."

  I sighed. I needed this too. And to be honest, when was I ever going to get a chance to be engaged to a rich, famous, and gorgeous man like Alec Slade, even if it was fake? "Okay. I'll do it. But only on the condition that you’l
l behave yourself. I don't want my face plastered all over the magazines under some scandal headline. I have a career to think about."

  "I know you do, and I will make sure you come out on top. Trust me," Alec said, squeezing my hand again. "So is this a yes? Will you be my pretend girlfriend and move in with me, Myra Edwards?"

  I smirked and offered him my hand to shake. "You've got a deal."

  "So when do I meet the patriarch that is spawning this whole arrangement?" I asked.

  "Tomorrow, actually. There is going to be a cocktail hour at the home of one of his associates. My father and brothers will all be there. And now, so will you."

  I took another sip of brandy and smoothed down my hair. I had gone from maid to a socialite's live-in girlfriend in the course of ten hours. It was the most productive day I’d had since I was laid off.

  It was time for the party.

  I’d woken up this morning to a note taped to the mirror in my new room, informing me that I had an appointment at the most upscale salon in the city and that my ride would be here to pick me up after breakfast.

  Another little perk of living here, I realized this morning, was that I didn't have to cook my own breakfast. I didn't have to do much of anything for myself, actually. When I returned to the estate after my salon appointment, where I had gotten the works - mani, pedi, hair, facial - I realized that the closet of my room had been visited by one of Alec's stylists. The stylist had taken the liberty of filling the closet with designer dresses. There was one on particular, an electric blue slinky thing with a matching pair of strappy satin heels that was hanging on a puffy hanger on the front of the armoire with a note attached that read: for tonight. I fingered the fabric. I used to make a nice salary, but nowhere near enough to afford a dress like this.

  My first instinct was to snap a picture and text it to Anjali but I decided against it. I hadn't told her about this strange arrangement yet, and I wasn't sure I wanted to. Of course, she would find it hilarious and be all for it. Actually, she had encouraged this sort of thing, but something about it still felt a little wrong to me. I touched the dress again and held it up to myself. I knew it would look amazing for tonight, and the perfectly tailored fabric made me forget about anything that might be questionable about what I was doing. There was nothing like a beautiful dress and a pair of killer heels to make morality fly out the window.