My Boss Rent A Wife

Ting!

(You have one request!)

Hannah pulled her phone from her bag, her eyes narrowing at the notification glowing on the screen. She quickly wiped a crumb from the corner of her lips with a tissue, her fingers twitching as she considered replying to the email.

Her heart sank. She'd have to work this Sunday.

"Seriously? You're still doing that silly part-time job?" Lucy asked, shaking her head in disbelief as she watched her best friend.

"What's your problem with it?" Hannah shot back, smacking her lips in irritation. "I've been doing this for years. There's no way I'm giving it up now."

Lucy crossed her arms, an exasperated look on her face. "You already have a steady job, don't you? Why not just leave the part-time gig? What's the point of hanging on to it?"

Hannah squinted at her, stuffing a large piece of bread into her mouth as if to emphasize her defiance.

"You don't get it, Lu," she said, her words muffled. "You get to have fun with someone, and you get paid for it. Where else can you find a job like that?"

Lucy arched an eyebrow, suppressing a laugh. "If someone overheard you, they'd think your part-time job was... well, something less than respectable."

"Like I care," Hannah retorted, sticking out her tongue. "As long as I'm making money, people can think what they want."

Hannah wasn't bothered by anyone's judgment. She knew she wasn't doing anything wrong. Her job wasn't scandalous, and she wasn't selling herself to sleazy men. The idea alone made her shudder. What kind of person would do that?

Lucy leaned forward, lowering her voice. "Ann, I'm serious. Wouldn't it be better to find a real boyfriend instead of... you know, pretending to be one? Isn't that what you really want?"

Hannah chuckled bitterly, her gaze drifting to the rain-soaked street outside the window.

"If I could find a boyfriend, I wouldn't need this job, would I?" She paused, watching people hurry by with umbrellas. Her voice softened. "You know why I do this, Lucy."

Lucy sighed, her teasing smile faltering. "You're still not over him, are you?"

Hannah's jaw tightened, and she looked away.

"Thought so," Lucy said, smirking.

"Oh, shut the fu*k up," Hannah muttered, annoyed.

She pushed her plate aside, her mind already drifting to her to-do list. After this, she needed to hit the supermarket. Great, she thought, realizing she'd forgotten her umbrella. 'Just my luck.'

One of the reasons Hannah didn't have a boyfriend was that she still couldn't forget her high school crush. A senior she had admired from afar, he'd captured her heart with his quiet confidence and kind smile. Hannah had been so smitten that she'd chosen the same college-and even the same major-just to be closer to him.

She had clung to those feelings all through college, her devotion unwavering. But life had a way of moving people in different directions. He had left to study abroad, disappearing from her life entirely.

Now, years later, Hannah sighed heavily. Though she hadn't seen him in person for so long, her feelings for him remained stubbornly intact.

'Why can't I let him go?' she wondered for the thousandth time.

He didn't even exist on social media, not a single trace of him to be found. It was as if he'd vanished from the digital world.

Is he doing well now?

"Ann," Lucy's voice broke through her thoughts. "How long has it been since we graduated? And you're still hung up on that guy?"

Hannah shrugged, avoiding her friend's gaze.

Lucy narrowed her eyes. "And don't tell me you've never been interested in any of the guys who rented you."

"I don't know, Lu," Hannah said softly. "I never felt anything for them. I do this job because... sometimes I just want to feel what it's like to have a boyfriend. Even if it's fake."

In all the years Hannah had been a rented girlfriend, not once had she felt any real connection with the men who hired her. Sure, a few had tried to pursue something more, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

Sometimes, she felt like her life was stuck in a loop. She envied the couples she saw on the street, laughing and holding hands. She wanted to experience love-real love-but somehow, it always felt out of reach.

"Honestly, I don't get you," Lucy said, shaking her head. "If you want a boyfriend so badly, just find a real one. Why play this rented girlfriend game? I swear, your brain works in the weirdest ways."

Hannah chuckled, grabbing her bag. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say. I'm heading out. I need to stop by the supermarket before it gets too late."

Lucy blinked in surprise. "Wait, you're leaving me here?!"

"You should head home too," Hannah said, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

"Are you serious right now? You promised I could stay at your place tonight!" Lucy yelped, scrambling to pack up her things.

Hannah smirked as she headed for the door. "Then hurry up, slowpoke."

Lucy groaned, rushing to catch up, but a small smile tugged at her lips.

**

It sounded absurd, even to Hannah herself. No one could truly understand why she agreed to the request-least of all her. But the money was good, and that was reason enough. On Saturday afternoon, as planned, she walked into the bustling café, her heart thudding as she scanned the room.

Her client was easy to spot. A man sat alone in the corner, exuding an air of cool detachment that seemed to repel anyone from sitting near him. Taking a deep breath, Hannah approached him cautiously.

"Um... Mr. Carson?" she asked, her voice tinged with nervousness.

The man looked up briefly, his expression unreadable. "Sit."

Hannah managed a faint smile and pulled out the chair opposite him. Settling into her seat, she studied him for a moment. He was tall, sharp-featured, and undeniably handsome. The kind of man who could turn heads in any room.

Her thoughts spiraled. Why would someone like him need to hire a fake girlfriend? Surely, with looks like that, he could have women lining up for his attention. The mystery intrigued her, but before she could ponder it further, his voice cut through her thoughts.

"You only need to act as my girlfriend in front of my father and grandfather," Cameron said bluntly, his tone colder than the café's iced beverages. "We'll be having dinner with them later. Once that's done, you're free to go."

Hannah blinked, momentarily taken aback by his curt demeanor. Wow. Charming.

"Uh, sure," she managed to reply. "Anything else I should know?"

He continued, ignoring her awkwardness. "We've been dating for two months. We met here six months ago. Keep your story straight, don't embellish, and for God's sake, don't say anything unnecessary."

Hannah bit back a retort and nodded. "Understood... uh, sir?"

"Cam," he corrected sharply. "And don't be so formal. My family will pick up on that immediately."

"Right. Got it." She forced a bright, agreeable tone, though her fingers itched to smack the arrogance out of him.

Cameron regarded her with a critical eye, his brow furrowing slightly. "I don't like your look."

"Excuse me?" she asked, her voice a mix of confusion and offense.

"Your outfit. It's not suitable," he said bluntly, rising from his seat. "Come with me."

Still stunned, Hannah followed him as he strode out of the café without a backward glance. Her annoyance simmered as she hurried to keep up, his long strides making her feel like a fumbling child.

Cameron led her to an expensive-looking sports car parked out front. Hannah stopped in her tracks, her jaw slack. Who was this guy?!

Sliding into the driver's seat, Cameron gestured impatiently for her to get in. Reluctantly, she opened the passenger door, the plush leather seats doing little to soothe her irritation.

They drove in tense silence until Cameron pulled up to a boutique nestled in a chic part of town. Without so much as a word, he escorted her inside, where racks of designer clothes and displays of sparkling accessories awaited.

"I don't see the problem with my dress," Hannah muttered as she trailed behind him, feeling utterly out of place.

"But I do," he said simply.

Before she could argue, a stylist approached them, and Cameron began issuing instructions with all the authority of someone who was used to getting his way. Hannah stood there, fuming, as she was whisked away to be "fixed."

Nearly an hour later, Hannah stepped out of the salon, her appearance utterly transformed. Her hair had been styled into soft waves, her makeup subtle but sophisticated, and the dress Cameron had chosen for her was nothing short of breathtaking. The sleek, emerald-green fabric hugged her figure perfectly, and the matching heels added an elegant touch. It was the kind of outfit she could never dream of affording on her own.

She cast a sideways glance at Cameron, who seemed unfazed by the expense. This guy is insanely rich.

Without a word, Cameron opened the car door for her, and they drove off. Their next destination was a restaurant at a luxurious five-star hotel, its grand entrance framed by towering pillars and glittering chandeliers visible even from the parking lot. Hannah tried not to gape as they stepped inside.

A waiter, dressed impeccably in a crisp uniform, greeted them with a polite bow. "Mr. Carson, your table is ready. Please, follow me."

Cameron nodded curtly, his hand resting lightly on Hannah's back as he guided her forward. The contact sent an unexpected shiver up her spine, but she brushed it off, chalking it up to nerves.

As they walked through the opulent dining area, Hannah couldn't help but let her thoughts wander. Why on earth does a guy like him need to hire a fake girlfriend? With this kind of money, he could have anyone he wanted. Her gaze shifted to Cameron's chiseled profile.

There's got to be something wrong with him. Maybe he's controlling. Or secretly weird. Yeah, definitely weird.

The waiter stopped in front of a set of double doors, opening them with a practiced flourish. "Your room, sir."

Cameron strode inside without hesitation, and Hannah followed close behind, her heels clicking softly against the polished marble floor. The private room was intimate but lavish, the kind of space reserved for VIPs. Seated at the table were two men, both dressed sharply in tailored suits. They looked up as Hannah and Cameron entered.

Hannah's steps faltered as her eyes landed on one of the men. Her breath caught in her throat. No way!

It was her boss. The president director of her office.

Her heart dropped to her stomach as she instinctively stiffened, her mind racing. What is he doing here?