How to Marry Your Frenemy (How To Rom Com Series Book 1)

by London Casey

  I was starting to lose my mind over being married.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Callie

  The words Jackson and sweet did not belong together.

  Not that I was implying that Jackson was sweet by any means at all.

  It was more of a comfortable routine with him than anything else.

  I caught myself opening my apartment door in the morning with a smile, reaching for a coffee that I knew was always going to be there.

  Or looking up from my desk to catch him staring at me.

  If people were around, we’d blow each other a kiss.

  Just to add that extra bullshit charm to the entire situation.

  If nobody was around, he’d make an obscene gesture with his hand. Always finding some object to jerk off. Or just the air itself.

  Anything to just remind me that he was the same Jackson that I had known for so long.

  I kept an eye on the calendar, watching the days slowly tick by.

  Our marriage had lasted longer than I expected.

  And so far Jackson had been faithful.

  There were no surprises waiting in or near his apartment.

  For me, I was just fine.

  Nothing my fingers couldn’t contain. Or better yet - the discovery that my new shower head detached, meaning I could get a little up close and personal with it.

  Did it matter that when I came I thought about Jackson?

  I wasn’t sure.

  But this was working.

  Everything was working just fine.

  Soon enough the marriage would end, the million dollars would be in my hands, and I could go back to being nothing more than a frenemy to Jackson.

  The morning my alarm decided not to go off was the morning Jackson decided to not have a coffee waiting for me.

  In fact, Jackson wasn’t there at all when I opened the door flustered with a sense of fury going through me.

  “This fucking phone…”

  Nobody was there.

  I had been running around my apartment like a wild woman trying to get ready and Jackson wasn’t in the hallway.

  I looked at my phone and I wasn’t that late.

  My lips ached for the taste of coffee.

  My nose ached for the smell of Jackson’s fresh clothes.

  My eyes… well, you know…

  I looked up and down the hallway.

  I walked to Jackson’s apartment and knocked.

  There was no answer.

  I left the building and went to the office alone.

  When I got there, Jackson was in his office.

  I opened the door. “What was that?”

  “What?” he asked.

  “You weren’t there this morning.”

  “So?”

  “I was looking for my coffee, Jackson.”

  He reached into his pocket and took out money and flung it across his desk. “Go get a coffee.”

  I shut the office door. “Whoa. What is this?”

  “What?”

  “Stop saying what. You’re acting like a complete asshole.”

  “I am a complete asshole.”

  “True. But this… what is this?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Did you hit your limit of jerking off?” I asked. “Need a little of the real thing, hubby?”

  He put his hands flat to his desk. “I’m not in the mood for jokes. Just be sure tonight you don’t fuck your date and ruin this for us.”

  Jackson looked at his laptop on his desk.

  “Ah,” I said. “You’re jealous about tonight.”

  “Jealous? I don’t get jealous. Just don’t screw this up.”

  “Jackson, it’s just a charity event,” I said. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Blah, blah, blah,” he said.

  I opened my mouth but stopped.

  He wanted to be a dick to me?

  Fine.

  “You know, jealousy does not look all that good on you,” I said.

  “Yeah? Well, neither did any of those dresses,” he said.

  “Oh, cheap shot. What are you, fucking twelve?”

  He looked at me. “Make sure the dress is tied tight. So your tits don’t pop out like the night you were changing.”

  My cheeks filled with burning heat.

  I wasn’t sure what happened that night.

  If he saw something or not.

  So you saw me topless and stormed out… why?

  “Wow. This is a deep kind of jealousy, Jackson. So sad to see.”

  “Get out of my office, Callie.”

  “See you later, hubby,” I said.

  Jackson didn’t say a word.

  I walked to my office… pissed.

  And a little hurt.

  I went with the off-white colored dress that Jackson liked best.

  Not because he liked it best, but because it was the best fitting and most comfortable. It also had the proper look for the event. It was elegant, not too showy, and would make me blend in.

  Which was the goal.

  Show up, shake a few hands, smile, and then blend in.

  So I could say I was there.

  A lot of the people attending were business people.

  They could end up being clients of ours.

  So this was - in a sense - work.

  When I finished getting ready, I poured myself a small glass of that scotch Jackson and I were drinking the night I was trying on dresses.

  Again, I started to think about him seeing me… what he saw. What he didn’t see. Why he didn’t make a move. Or the fact that it was a good thing he didn’t make a move.

  We couldn’t cross lines here.

  This was about money.

  Derrick knocked at the door and I charged to chase away thoughts of Jackson.

  I opened the door and he stood there in a nice tux, looking handsome like he always did.

  “Look at you,” he said.

  He leaned down for a kiss and I put my hand to his chest.

  “Derrick… we have to talk about this thing between us,” I said.

  “Callie, I’m good with anything,” he said. “We can talk about anything. For tonight, can we just go to this thing? I hate these things. My parents parade me around like a trophy, you know? I appreciate you being there. You’re my buffer.”

  “That’s fine,” I said. “Just… hands off. It’s a charity thing, right?”

  “Right,” he said.

  “Plus, I need you to know that-”

  I hear a door open and shut.

  I looked to my right and there was Jackson.

  In a t-shirt and jeans. Arms crossed. The muscles of his forearms twisted and tight.

  He was so beautifully built…

  “Hey, man,” Derrick nodded. “She looks great, doesn’t she?”

  “Yeah,” Jackson said. “You two going to an event or something?”

  “Charity event,” Derrick said.

  “See you later, Jackson,” I said.

  I grabbed Derrick’s arm and pulled him.

  “Later, man,” Derrick called out. “That’s your neighbor?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “He’s a pain in the ass. Don’t talk to him. Derrick, we need to talk about something. About us. I need you to know something.”

  “Sure,” Derrick said. “What’s up?”

  I looked back and saw Jackson staring at me.

  Those smoldering eyes.

  Those big muscles.

  My body shivered inside the dress.

  Why didn’t he come into the bathroom and rip the dress off me that night?

  The only way to chase that question out of my head was to drink.

  And luckily at the charity event there were plenty of drinks.

  It was also nice that from the second Derrick and I arrived, he was whisked away by his parents to show his face and his pretty smile.

  Every time I tried to talk to him about Jackson, something distracted us.

  On the car ride to the event
, his parents’ planner called to go over a handful of things, which took the entire ride to the event.

  Not that I really cared.

  Nothing was going to happen between Derrick and I.

  I was more worried about Jackson.

  I didn’t like the way he had been acting all day.

  So petty and jealous.

  This event was in the books long before our fake marriage.

  So just fucking deal with it, hubby, okay?

  I stood at the bar and helped myself to another drink.

  The drinks flowed heavier after I made my rounds meeting everyone I wanted to.

  There was Mr. Henley. He was a successful attorney, but his nephew was involved in some exciting techy bullshit, as he put it. Then there was the Gorbains, Henry and his wife, Margaret. They came from old money and loved to spend it. They were a wealth of information on what companies were doing what and when. And what people were jumping ship from those companies to start their own businesses.

  That was the reason I was there.

  To be seen and heard, smile and get information.

  My hopes were that Mr. Henley and the Gorbains would start talking about me to anyone they knew. So when a company was ready to take on some investors, I would be their first call. Then I could work out a deal, take it to Vince, and show him that I was the one he needed.

  No offense to my dear husband or anything.

  This wasn’t about love and never would be.

  It was business.

  I sipped my martini like some fancy woman.

  A hand groped the curve of my ass and I coughed, almost spitting my drink on the bar.

  Classy, Callie…

  I spun around and Derrick was looking at me.

  “Derrick,” I said.

  “Oh, I need you right now, Callie,” he said.

  He moved closer. “Whoa. Back off.”

  “What? Why?”

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “I’m done with my commitments tonight,” he said. “Now I can drink freely and be with you. Let’s do this thing, Callie. We can make it work. My parents actually like you too. They’re impressed watching you handle yourself. I can see how lucky any guy would be to have you now. So let’s do it. Come on…”

  He reached for my hand.

  I pulled it away.

  I lifted my left hand. “Did you not see the ring on my finger, Derrick?”

  “A ring? So what?”

  “I’m…”

  I sighed.

  This guy was so thick headed.

  So dumb.

  He made another pass at me and I side stepped away.

  “Callie, what are you doing?”

  “I’m getting away from you.”

  “Why? You showed up here with me. I thought we… oh, hey, look at that.”

  Derrick nodded.

  “What?” I asked as I turned my head.

  “Your neighbor is here,” Derrick said.

  My eyes searched and stopped at Jackson.

  Walking through the doors to the room.

  A woman hanging off his arm.

  “Fuck,” I whispered.

  “That’s the guy, right?” Derrick asked. “Your neighbor?”

  “Derrick, he’s not my neighbor. He’s my husband.”

  “Your what?” Derrick yelled.

  I wasn’t going to repeat it.

  I had bigger things to deal with.

  Like… what the hell was Jackson doing here with some other woman?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Jackson

  Did Callie really think for a second I was going to let her go to some event with another man and that I wouldn’t show up to make things awkward?

  If so, then my wife really didn’t know me all that well.

  To get to the charity event, it took me two phone calls.

  The first was to Lincoln.

  He got me the information about the charity event. Who was hosting it, where it was, and what it took to get into the thing.

  A little bit of money and I was golden.

  I didn’t have a tuxedo like Derrick did, but I had some nice suits that worked just fine.

  Now, the next thing I needed was a date.

  Or not a date.

  I just needed someone to show up with.

  I could have gone alone, sure, but what was the fun in that?

  The true surprise was the look on Callie’s face when she saw me enter the room with another woman on my arm. Just to remind my wife that I was capable of getting someone else that quick.

  Which brought me to my second phone call.

  Maggie.

  She was an aspiring model who bartended on the weekends.

  That’s where I met her.

  She was tall, skinny, beautiful, and loved the idea of no strings attached sex. Because in her mind, she was going to end up whisked away to Paris soon by some rich guy who would parade her on runaways and then spoil her with expensive food and gifts.

  I hoped she got all of that, and more.

  But tonight she settled for me.

  Maggie loved to dress up.

  I made it clear we were going as friends.

  Which made the car ride to the event a little odd.

  To just sit there and talk wasn’t my style.

  The entire time we rode to the event, I kept picturing her getting on top of me. Easy access for her dress, and a zipper on my pants to pull my dick free for some fun.

  Then, of course, as I pictured Maggie’s I’m coming face, she turned into Callie.

  All of that headache and annoyance was worth it when Callie looked at me.

  She was at the bar with Derrick.

  Derrick had a big, goofy smile. He looked like the kind of guy that if you made a W, you could convince him it was an upside-down M and it needed to be thrown out.

  He nodded his head at me.

  What the fuck is this guy about?

  “Come with me,” I said to Maggie.

  “I want to see this place,” Maggie said to me.

  “Just do this for me and you can go do your thing,” I said. “I just need you for a minute.”

  “How typical,” she said.

  I looked down at her. “I’ve never finished that quick. Ever.”

  Maggie rolled her eyes.

  We walked to the bar and Maggie broke away from me.

  I reached out and grabbed Callie by the hands.

  I pulled her against me.

  I looked at Derrick and winked. “Thanks for keeping her safe. But I couldn’t in my heart let my wife come here without me.”

  “Wife…,” Derrick said.

  “She didn’t tell you about us?” I asked. “She’s so shy sometimes.”

  “You’re married?” Maggie asked.

  “Of course I am,” I said. “Why do you think you weren’t riding my dick on the way here?”

  Callie slapped me across the face.

  That got some attention.

  She jumped to her toes and growled into my ear. “Outside. Now.”

  Callie then took off, running away from the bar.

  I looked at Derrick and smiled.

  “I think I’m in the doghouse already.”

  I wandered my way outside, smiling the entire time. Nodding to anyone who looked at me. I wasn’t sure if they were staring because I wasn’t in a tux. Or if they somehow knew me from my job. Or if it was because I was the guy who got bitch-slapped ten seconds after arriving.

  Either way, I didn’t care how anyone knew me.

  I was fine with putting myself on the line if it meant pissing Callie off. Or embarrassing her. Or making her hate me just a little bit more than she already did.

  When I stepped outside, I smelled cigarette smoke.

  There were a few people enjoying a smoke break.

  Callie wasn’t one of them.

  She was to my left, staring daggers at me.

  I carefully approached, putting my hands out.

>   “You’re not going to slap me again, are you?” I asked.

  “Are you drunk or something?”

  “No. Not yet. I was going to get us a drink, but you took off.”

  “What is your problem? This isn’t a joke to me.”

  “It’s not a joke to me either,” I said. “You’re out on a date with another man.”

  “Says the guy who brought some woman. What corner did you pick her up on?”

  “Wow,” I said. “For the record, Maggie wants to be a model. She wants to go to Paris and make it big.”

  “Then why don’t you just take her there?” Callie asked. “Then voila, you both get what you want.”

  “Are you jealous right now, Callie?” I asked.

  “No,” she said. “This is important to me. I have a job to do.”

  “Here?”

  “I’ve been talking to people all night. Keeping my distance from Derrick. I talked to-”

  “That guy was right up on you,” I said as I stepped closer to her. “He wants to fuck you. And you never told him about me.”

  “You didn’t tell your date about me.”

  “Don’t twist it around on me,” I said. “I told Maggie we were going as friends.”

  “Of course you did. Or else she would have been sucking you off, right?”

  “She doesn’t like to do that,” I said. “But she can ride a dick like a crazy woman.”

  Callie swung at me again.

  I got out of the way of that slap.

  “Go home, Jackson,” she said. “I was getting ready to leave soon anyway.”

  “Yeah? You’re half drunk. That’s your plan?”

  “Fuck you. Who cares what I do? I know how to take care of myself.”

  I slipped my hands to her sides and pulled her close. “I warned you, Callie. You’re my wife. Act like it.”

  She looked up at me. “I didn’t have a chance to tell him about you. I tried and things kept getting in the way. He’s very rich and powerful.”

  I laughed. “His parents are. Not him. He’s a tool.”

  “But he knows how to fuck so good,” Callie said. “And he listens to me.”

  “Trying to make me jealous?”

  “Is it working?” she asked.

  “No,” I said. “But should we make a deal for tonight?”

  “What kind of deal?

  “You fuck Derrick. I fuck Maggie. We take them back to our apartments. Keep it discrete.”