Chapter 3

I stared at my reflection in the mirror of my Seattle penthouse, barely recognizing the woman looking back at me. Three months had passed since I'd arrived here as the new Regional Manager for the West Coast. Three months of eighteen-hour workdays, strategy sessions, and building a branch office from scratch.

"Skyler Hall," I whispered to my reflection, "you've done it."

My phone buzzed on the counter. Another text from Adam. His third this week.

"I heard you're doing well in Seattle. We need to talk."

I deleted it without responding, just like I had with all the others. But his words still stung, like salt in a wound that refused to heal.

"He thinks I'm broken," I muttered, applying lipstick with a fierce stroke. "He thinks I couldn't survive without him."

The idea had been brewing for weeks now—a way to show Adam that I wasn't just surviving, I was thriving. A way to make him realize exactly what he had lost.

"Time to move on," I told myself. "Time to show him I've moved on."

---

The club was called Elysium, one of Seattle's most exclusive venues. Crystal chandeliers cast prismatic light across the VIP section where I'd secured a table. The bass thrummed through my chest as I scanned the room, glass of champagne untouched before me.

"You're looking for someone specific?"

I turned to find a man sliding into the seat across from me. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes that seemed to see straight through me.

"I'm looking for someone who fits a very specific role," I replied, studying him carefully.

He smiled, a slow, confident curve of his lips. "And what role might that be?"

"Someone who can make my ex-boyfriend jealous," I said bluntly. "Someone who can play the part of the perfect boyfriend."

He laughed, a rich sound that somehow cut through the club's noise. "An interesting request. And what makes you think I'm qualified?"

I took in his tailored suit, the subtle gleam of his watch, the way he carried himself with effortless grace. "You're obviously not just another club-goer. The way you move, the way you speak... you're either a model or an actor."

"Guilty," he admitted with a slight bow of his head. "Beau Austin. Model, though I prefer to think of myself as a 'visual storyteller.'"

"Austin," I repeated, testing the name. "Well, Beau Austin, I'm Skyler Hall, and I have a proposition for you."

---

"The terms are simple," I said, sliding a contract across the table. We had moved to a quieter corner booth, away from the club's main floor.

Beau's eyes widened slightly as he scanned the figures I'd written. "This is...generous."

"It's business," I replied coolly. "I need someone for public appearances, charity events, and social media posts. Someone who can convince everyone—especially my ex—that I've moved on to someone better."

Beau studied me with those penetrating blue eyes. "And why should I care about your ex?"

"Because," I said, leaning forward, "he tried to destroy me. He stole my passport and left me stranded in another country. He deserves to see exactly what he lost."

Something flickered across Beau's face—a flash of anger on my behalf that surprised me.

"I accept," he said simply, reaching for a pen.

I blinked, caught off guard by his quick agreement. "Just like that?"

"Just like that," he confirmed, signing with a flourish. "When do we start?"

---

Our first appearance together was at the Seattle Arts Foundation Gala. I wore a crimson gown that hugged my curves, my arm linked through Beau's as we walked the red carpet.

"Ready?" he murmured, his breath warm against my ear.

I nodded, squeezing his arm. "Ready."

Flashbulbs exploded around us as we stepped into the spotlight. Beau's hand settled at the small of my back, warm and steady.

"Skyler Hall, everyone," announced the event coordinator. "Our newest addition to Seattle's business elite, accompanied by..."

"Beau Austin," I supplied smoothly. "My boyfriend."

Beau smiled for the cameras, his arm tightening slightly around my waist. "That's right. Lucky me."

The gala was a whirlwind of introductions and small talk. Beau played his role perfectly—attentive, charming, and just possessive enough to be believable.

"You're good at this," I whispered as we paused for champagne.

He winked. "I'm a visual storyteller, remember? And right now, we're telling quite the story."

By the end of the night, #SkylerAndBeau was trending on local social media. I could almost picture Adam scrolling through his feed, seeing us together, realizing what he'd lost.

"Phase one complete," I said as we left the gala.

Beau's smile was warm as he helped me into the car. "Just getting started, Skyler. Just getting started."