The weekend was supposed to be for rest, but Sam had other plans.
Her phone buzzed nonstop with reminders, reports, and messages—everything had to go perfectly. Even her "fake girlfriend project."
That morning, she'd texted Alexandra to meet her at the café. But halfway through the day, a client called an emergency meeting. By the time it ended, she was halfway to her car, trying to text Alexandra a quick apology—when her phone screen went black.
"Oh, God. Great," she muttered, tapping it. Nothing. "Perfect timing!"
At the Café
Alexandra checked her watch for the third—no, fourth—time. Sam was never late.
She tried calling again. Out of reach.
"Oh wow," she muttered, slumping in her chair. "She set this up, and now she's the one ghosting me?"
Another half hour passed. Then another.
"Unbelievable," Alexandra sighed. "Did she bail on me? I actually cleared my schedule for this."
When she saw the barista flipping the sign to Closing Soon, she groaned, standing up. "Alright, that's it. I'm going home. Hope you're still alive, Samantha."
She pushed open the door, stepped onto the street—
—and a black sleek car screeched to a halt inches from her.
Alexandra froze. "What the—"
The window rolled down, revealing Sam's wide-eyed face.
"You're still here," Sam blurted.
"Yeah, obviously," Alexandra said, crossing her arms. "I thought I'd personally close the café for them."
Sam got out of the car, guilt written all over her face. "I had an emergency meeting, and when I was about to text you, my phone died."
"Oh, how convenient," Alexandra said, deadpan.
"I'll make it up to you," Sam offered.
"And how exactly?"
Sam hesitated, then smirked. "Dinner. I'll cook at my place. We still need to go over the plan anyway."
Alexandra arched an eyebrow, pretending to consider it. "Hm. Depends. You actually cook, or should I bring a fire extinguisher?"
"You're lucky you get to taste food cooked by Samantha Kingsley," Sam shot back, chin tilted proudly.
Alexandra grinned. "Just don't add love potion, okay?"
"Get in the car, Alex," Sam said, rolling her eyes.
At Sam's House
Sam's front door clicked open, revealing a spacious, modern house—minimalist, elegant, and spotless, every item perfectly in its place. A faint scent of lavender from a diffuser mingled with the faint hum of the neighborhood outside, giving the home a serene, almost unreal calm.
"Wow," Alexandra said, eyes sweeping the space. "Nice place. Should I start packing my things? Maybe move in to make our 'fake couple' story more believable?"
"You wish," Sam said flatly.
"Oh, c'mon," Alexandra teased. "Breakfast in bed, dinner dates at home, a little—"
"Stop," Sam interrupted, glaring but blushing faintly.
Alexandra laughed. "Fine. Go ahead, wifey. Start cooking." She winked and gestured toward the kitchen.
Sam exhaled, muttering something about "unprofessional behavior" as she tied her apron and began prepping ingredients.
Meanwhile, Alexandra wandered through the living room, scanning framed photos and awards.
"You were actually adorable as a kid," she called out. "What happened?"
"Excuse me?" Sam shouted from the kitchen.
"Nothing! Just saying, life changed you." Alexandra snickered to herself.
Then—
"AAAAAHHHHH!"
Alexandra jumped. "What—what happened?" She sprinted into the kitchen.
Sam was standing on a stool, brandishing a frying pan like a weapon.
"There's—there's a cockroach!" Sam yelled, pointing at the floor.
Alexandra blinked. "What? You're joking."
"DO I LOOK LIKE I'M JOKING?!" Sam shouted.
The cockroach darted out from under the counter—and then, as if possessed by pure evil, it took flight.
"OH MY GOD IT FLIES!" Alexandra screamed.
Both women shrieked at once. Sam grabbed Alexandra by the shoulders and shoved her forward. "Do something!"
"ME?!" Alexandra yelped, dodging as the bug swooped past. "It's YOUR house!"
"You're closer!"
"I'm also emotionally unprepared for this!"
They both ducked as it buzzed past again. Alexandra flailed wildly with a dish towel; Sam hid behind her, using her as a human shield.
"Why is it attacking us?" Alexandra yelled.
"It's not attacking, it's—oh god it's coming back!" Sam shrieked, jumping behind the counter.
"This is war!" Alexandra shouted, throwing the towel like a grenade. It missed entirely.
The cockroach zipped toward the open window—and, mercifully, escaped into the night.
For a long moment, both women froze, panting, still pressed together. Sam's arms had wrapped instinctively around Alexandra's shoulders; Alexandra had her hands on Sam's forearms, clinging for balance.
Then, slowly, their eyes met.
The room seemed to shrink. Alexandra's teasing grin faltered, replaced by something softer, warmer. Sam's usual cool composure wavered; she cleared her throat, looking anywhere but directly at Alex.
Neither moved. They just stared at each other, hearts racing from the adrenaline—and maybe something else.
Finally, in an almost comical silence, they both jerked back at the same time, like children caught in mischief.
"Uh... let's just... order delivery?" Sam blurted, her voice a little too high-pitched.
Alexandra blinked, shook herself, and nodded. "Yeah... delivery sounds perfect."
They both laughed awkwardly, the tension dissolving into giggles as they backed away from each other, each secretly thankful the cockroach had given them that unexpected excuse for a moment... and for some reason, neither could stop thinking about it.
-
The scent of melted cheese and oregano filled the living room as Sam leaned back against the couch, a slice of pepperoni pizza dangling from her hand. Alexandra lounged across from her, one leg tucked beneath the other, eyes sparkling mischievously.
"I still think the cockroach was a paid actor," Alexandra said between bites.
Sam glanced up mid-chew. "What?"
Alexandra gestured dramatically with her crust. "You and that bug clearly had a deal. You didn't want me to try your cooking, so you hired the cockroach to make a scene in the kitchen. Instant chaos. Flawless execution."
Sam groaned, rolling her eyes. "Right, because that's exactly what I'd do—stage an insect uprising to avoid feeding you."
Alexandra laughed. "Well, it worked. I didn't even get to see if you could handle a frying pan."
"You really want to taste my cooking that badly?" Sam asked, narrowing her eyes in mock suspicion.
Alexandra smirked, leaning forward just a bit. "What if it's you I want to taste?"
Sam choked on her soda. "Alex!"
"What?" Alexandra asked innocently, biting into her pizza with exaggerated nonchalance.
"You can't just—say things like that!" Sam sputtered, trying to hide the blush creeping up her neck.
Alexandra grinned. "Why not? You're adorable when you malfunction."
Sam threw a napkin at her. "You're impossible."
"Correction," Alexandra said, "I'm committed to the role."
That drew Sam's laughter, and for a moment, the air softened between them. They ate in comfortable silence until Sam cleared her throat. "Speaking of roles... we should probably talk strategy for this reunion thing."
Alexandra wiped her hands on a napkin. "Ah, yes. Operation: Fool Everyone."
"Exactly," Sam said, reaching for her tablet. "So, my family knows I'm bringing my 'girlfriend.' You don't have to do much—just hold my hand, smile, laugh at my uncle's bad jokes—"
"Pretend to gaze into your eyes like you're the only woman in the world?" Alexandra teased.
Sam shot her a look. "Try to sound less delighted about that."
"Sorry," Alexandra said, suppressing a grin. "Continue."
"There'll be photos. My cousin Vienne loves posting everything. So, maybe we take a few pictures beforehand—make it look believable."
"Got it. Practice smiling like we share inside jokes," Alexandra said, then winked. "I have a few ideas already."
Sam ignored that entirely. "Also, Nana will test you. She's subtle, but she'll ask questions. Just... follow my lead, okay?"
Alexandra nodded solemnly. "I was born to improvise under pressure."
Sam sighed, though her lips quirked. "That's what worries me."
They talked through the details, laughing in between ridiculous scenarios—like what to do if Sam's aunt demanded to see their "first date photo," or if Josh showed up trying to win her back.
-
By the time the pizza box was empty, Alexandra leaned back against the couch cushion, watching Sam stretch and yawn like she belonged there.
"That's the plan, then," Sam said lightly. "You ready for this chaos?"
Alexandra smiled, the answer coming easily. "With you? Always."
The words lingered between them longer than she expected. Sam's expression shifted—just slightly—before she stood and began gathering the plates.
"Well," Sam said, a little too briskly, "you should get going. It's late."
Alexandra nodded, already reaching for her phone. "Yeah. I should head home."
"I'll drive you."
The offer came so quickly it caught her off guard. Alexandra froze.
"Oh—uh, no need!" The words rushed out too fast. "I already booked a car. Online." She held up her phone as proof, heart thudding. "It'll be here any minute."
Sam's smile didn't fade, but something in Alexandra tightened anyway.
"Okay," Sam said, then added gently, "but at least let me wait with you. It's late."
Alexandra hesitated.
Her fingers curled around her phone, pulse ticking hard against her grip. No. No, no, no. She can't see the car. If Sam walks her out, if she notices—
"Alex?" Sam prompted softly.
She forced a laugh. "Really, Sam, it's fine. It'll just take a few minutes."
Sam was already slipping on her shoes. "Exactly. I'll keep you company."
Internally, Alexandra screamed. As soon as Sam turned to reach for her cardigan draped over the chair, Alexandra whipped out her phone and texted furiously:
Alexandra: Thomas, emergency. Come pick me up NOW. Pretend you're an online driver. Don't mention me by name. Just act normal. Actually—no, act boring. Blend in.
They stepped outside just as headlights turned onto the driveway. Alexandra froze. Sam squinted, frowning.
The sleek black luxury car glided to a stop—its paint gleaming under the porch light, clearly worth more than Sam's annual salary.
Sam stared. "...Alexandra."
"Yes?" Alexandra asked sweetly, trying very hard to look casual while her soul left her body.
"Is this the car you booked?" Sam gestured to the vehicle, her voice somewhere between disbelief and alarm. "Are you sure it's safe? It looks like it costs more than my annual salary as a CEO."
"Oh! Uh, yeah," Alexandra said quickly. "You know, sometimes the app just... upgrades your ride. Lucky night, I guess!"
Thomas, wearing dark sunglasses at night for some reason, rolled down the window. "Miss Alex? Your ride."
Sam blinked. "He called you Miss Alex."
"Nickname!" Alexandra said, waving her hands. "Very common with—uh—drivers."
Sam folded her arms, clearly unconvinced. "Right."
Alexandra opened the car door, throwing Thomas a sharp look that screamed don't you dare say anything.
He nodded stiffly. "Please fasten your seatbelt, ma'am."
"Thank you," Alexandra said, forcing a bright smile. "Well, I should—uh—go before the driver gets a bad rating!"
Sam tilted her head. "Sure. Try not to get kidnapped by your five-star chauffeur."
Alexandra laughed, way too high-pitched. "Haha, right! Night, Sam!" She dove into the back seat, slammed the door, and quickly fastened her seatbelt.
The car pulled away smoothly, leaving Sam standing there, arms crossed, watching the taillights fade into the night.
Inside the car, Alexandra slumped against the seat with a groan. "Thomas, what part of 'blend in' sounded like 'arrive in a car that screams multi-millionaire'?"
Thomas grinned. "Apologies, Ms. Alex. The sedan's in for maintenance—and you did say fast. This was the quickest option."
Alexandra groaned louder, hiding her face in her hands. "I'm doomed."
Thomas chuckled. "Relax, ma'am. She bought it."
Alexandra peeked through her fingers, staring out the window. If Sam ever finds out I'm the president and co-owner of a massive company, with investments literally everywhere, basically a walking Forbes headline... she's going to think I've completely lost it. Which millionaire in their right mind accepts a job like this? And for what—pocket change?
She imagined Sam's reaction—eyebrows shooting up, jaw dropping, maybe even a little laugh of disbelief. "You're... what? A multi-millionaire... and you agreed to be my fake girlfriend?!"
Alexandra bit back a laugh. "Yep. Totally sane. Absolutely normal. Completely reasonable."
Sliding her hands down her face, she muttered under her breath, "Let's hope she never finds out... because if she does, I'll never live it down... and I might never hear the end of it."
The city lights blurred past as the car hummed along the quiet streets. Alexandra leaned back, letting the night settle around her. Despite the absurdity of it all, a small, mischievous smile tugged at her lips. Somehow, this fake-girlfriend business—multimillionaire or not—was exactly the kind of chaos she didn't hate.