She knows better than to think she’ll get a happily-ever-after like the romance stories she loves…until her nerdy work friend starts to act like Prince Charming.

Romance-reading executive assistant Marlee can’t show up to her boss’s wedding without a date. Not after her crush invites a beautiful, brainy Amazon. So when her best buddy, Tyler, offers to be her plus-one, she’s all in for a little jealousy-sparking fun.

Until a magical kiss on the dance floor makes her forget her own name and question who she’s crushing on. Suddenly their date doesn’t feel so fake.

Leveling-up their friendship is a risk she’s not ready to take. So is Tyler asking for more than she can give. She never meant to break up with her best friend. Especially when she suspects she’s falling for him.

Friend Me is a slow-burn-to-red-hot, friends-to-lovers, fake-relationship romantic comedy featuring a starry-eyed heroine, a sweet, cinnamon-roll hero, and a pair of cranky cats. It can be read as a standalone and is the second book in the Synergy series.

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Tropes

• Office romance
• Friends to lovers
• Fake relationship 
• Romance-reading heroine
• Geeks/nerds
• Unrequited love
• Love triangle

Chapter 1 look inside

Chapter 1

I’d watched a lot of women come and go from Cooper Fallon’s office, but this one was the worst. And she wasn’t going quietly.

When her shriek—something that ended with “asshole”—escaped his closed office door to echo all the way down the hall to my desk, I pressed my lips together to hide my grin and pulled up the staffing agency’s contact information.

Since his long-time assistant retired five months ago, the Chief Operating Officer of Synergy Analytics had gone through eighteen temporary assistants. Some stormed out, like this one was about to do, some slunk out, and some just didn’t bother showing up the next day.

I swear, it was all his own doing. At first. After temp number five keyed the cherry surface of his desk on her way out, he asked me to select the next one. As a favor. And I just took advantage of his own high standards—and raging temper—to ensure that none stuck. I became the Statue of Liberty of San Francisco temps: Give me your amateurs, your idlers, your novelists and poets yearning to slack off…

So I might not have been the most impartial person to hire Cooper’s assistant.

Because I had a plan. One that relied on, well, unreliable help.

As I composed the email to the agency—I had to be vague enough about why we were firing this one so they’d send us another just as terrible—a voice behind me asked, “Are they okay in there?”

I spun in my chair toward the familiar voice, banging my bare knee against the leg of my desk. I squinted at my work-buddy, Tyler Young, haloed in brightness from the hazy light coming through the converted mill’s top-floor skylight.

I rubbed my knee. With Cooper bellowing from the corner office, I hadn’t heard the soft approach of Tyler’s sneakers. “I was just about to bust out the popcorn.”

Flashing his adorable dimples, he came around to the front of my desk, as he always did so I didn’t have to stare into the skylight. When Cooper’s low growl cut across the temp’s higher voice, Tyler shoved up his black-framed glasses and asked, “Are you sure? Do we need to—?”

I tilted my head to listen. The temp was giving as good as—or better than—she got. All the swearing was on her end. “No, they’re pretty evenly matched. At least she’s not a crier.” I’d raided my desk drawer for chocolate and tissues to console the one he’d fired last week.

When the temp’s shouting escalated into a high-pitched screech, Synergy’s other founder, Jackson Jones, emerged from his office and ambled to my desk. “Hey, Marlee. Who picked”—he checked his Omega—“four o’clock?” My boss leaned his big hand on my desk and plucked a piece of candy from the ceramic bowl.

I snorted. “Someone down in payroll. I’m guessing she’ll win it.”

“Poor Cooper.” He wadded up his candy wrapper and handed it to me to throw in the trash. “Not everyone can have San Francisco’s best assistant. He’s jealous I found you first.”

My cheeks warming, I smoothed my rosebud-pink skirt.

Cooper, the COO of one of the world’s hottest tech companies, demanded a lot of his employees. He was an alpha billionaire, just like in my favorite novels.

Total romance-hero material. I just wished he were mine.

That first day I’d met him, when I was still a part-timer figuring out what exactly analytics software did and how the building full of scruffy young programmers had made it onto the Fortune 1000, my jaw had dropped and my knees had gone weak. He was more than handsome; he looked like the model on the cover of the romance novel I’d been reading. Blond hair, blue eyes, the perfect amount of stubble, impeccable clothes—though lacking a broadsword—and tall as a redwood. I’d spent my first three days at Synergy staring at him. By the end of the second week, it was a full-blown crush.

Not only was he one of Northern California’s most eligible bachelors, but he was a considerate, caring, honest man. He knew the names of all of his employees, from the executive floor down to the mailroom. He’d started a foundation to help kids from lower-income families go to coding camps. And most important—

“You going to get that?” Jackson asked, leaning a hip against the soapstone lab table I used as a desk.

Cooper’s line was lit up on my desk phone, ringing, but since both people who should’ve answered it were screaming at each other, it was up to me.

“Cooper Fallon’s office. Marlee Rice speaking.”

“Hi,” said a husky female voice. “This is Jamila Jallow. Is Cooper available? He’s expecting my call.”

He was? My heart thudded. Why was top-of-their-Stanford-class, could’ve-been-a-model, on-all-the-forty-under-forty-lists Jamila Jallow, Cooper’s BFF, calling him today?

“No, I’m sorry. He’s tied up at the moment. Can I help you?”

“Sure. Could you let him know my plans changed and I can go with him to Jackson’s wedding?”

Holy Stephen Hawking.

“You can?” Although Jamila and Cooper had attended more than one industry function together, he never brought a date to Synergy events. And while my boss’s wedding next weekend wasn’t an official company function, I’d been sure he’d go stag.

“I can. But, you know, I’ll just text him. Thanks, Marlee.”

My ears buzzed. I’d figured Jamila would go to Jackson’s wedding. They’d been friends since college. What did it mean that she’d go with Cooper? Was it a friends-date or a date-date?

It’d be just my luck if she snapped up Cooper right as I’d finally found the courage to do something about my three-year-old crush.

“Um, Marlee?” Tyler asked, straightening his glasses. “Are you okay?”

I blinked to focus. “Fine.” I turned to Jackson. “That was Jamila Jallow. She says she’s coming with Cooper. To your wedding.”

His eyebrows shot up. “He never brings anyone to my parties.”

“I know, right? What’s going on?”

Cooper’s door swung open, thumping into the wall, and the temp stormed out, her face as red as her silk blouse. I’d been a little afraid when the gorgeous woman had walked in on Monday with her designer clothes and shoes that cost more than my weekly salary, but she’d been too preoccupied with fluttering her fake eyelashes at Cooper to answer his calls. She snatched her buttery leather handbag off the desk outside and flounced past us toward the elevators.

“Bye, Lynley,” I said.

“Fuck off.” She veered right, yanked open the door, and disappeared into the stairwell.

I exchanged a glance with Jackson.

“Yeah,” he said, “Cooper has that effect on me, sometimes.”

Tyler said nothing. He hadn’t spent enough time up here on the sixth floor to know that Cooper’s moods were a summer thunderstorm: loud but quickly spent.

The man himself stepped out of his glass-walled office, his nostrils flaring, his jaw like marble. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his tailored black slacks and, gaze on the reclaimed-wood floor, approached us. I ran a hand over my pendant and sat up straighter in my chair.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he turned his crystal-blue eyes on me.

“Marlee?” He shifted on his feet. “It seems Lindsey—”

“Lynley,” I corrected him.

He grimaced, showing straight white teeth. “She and I have agreed she’s not a good fit for Synergy.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Jackson said.

Cooper’s stare stabbed his friend. “If you’d just reconsider sharing Marlee with me…”

“I’d be happy to—” I began.

“Not happening,” Jackson interrupted me. He stared at me, hard. “Marlee has plenty of work already. And you might as well ask to borrow my right arm. Find your own Marlee.” He shrugged. “Or keep one of the temps she finds for you.”

Before he spoke, Cooper took a beat to relax his hands, which had balled into fists. Then he looked at me. “Do you think you could—”

“Done.” I clicked to send my email to the staffing agency.

“Thanks. You know I adore you, Marlee.” And there it was, the heart-stopping smile that turned me to goo on the floor every time. I wanted to dance my fingertips over his strong, stubbly jaw and into his short, sandy hair. Run my hands over his gray striped dress shirt to touch the toned shoulders underneath. Drag my nails down his back and squeeze his—

“Anyway, Jay—” He turned to Jackson, and that was when I realized I’d been eye-fucking Cooper again. “Can we start our ride early? I have a foundation event tonight.”

“I’ll go change.” Jackson shot me a look—he hadn’t missed my wandering eyes—and then gripped Tyler’s shoulder. “Let’s talk tomorrow about your ideas for the fuel burn module.” Because I was watching Cooper, I saw his gaze follow his friend’s hand and then narrow at Tyler. Cooper tended to be the jealous partner in his bromance with Jackson.

“Sure thing.” Tyler grinned at our boss, looking exactly like a Labrador Retriever who’d been told he was a good boy.

Jackson had created the company’s flagship product—an automotive analytics package that made cars perform better and more safely—ten years ago in the dorm room he shared with Cooper at Stanford. A programming legend, he inspired admiration among the developers, and Tyler was president of the fan club. Though Tyler was a legit programmer himself. Jackson didn’t have the patience to mentor many programmers, but he made time for Tyler.

When the two executives returned to their respective offices, I beckoned Tyler closer and checked that no one else was nearby. “I heard Sanjay’s leaving.”

“Yeah?” His lower lip pushed out into an almost-pout. “He’s a good boss. I’ll miss him.”

“Sure, but…” I paused for effect. “That opens up a manager position. And I know a talented programmer who’s ready for a promotion.”

“Who, Grant?”

I snorted. “No, you dork. You.”

He rocked back on his heels. “I’m not ready. I’ve been here less than a year.”

“It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been here. What matters is how much you know about programming and how good you are with people.” And Tyler was good with people. Unlike most of his colleagues, he didn’t look down his nose at me because I was an admin.

His eyes narrowed, uncertain.

“Think about it. HR will post the job next week.”

He gave a noncommittal grunt. Plucking a peppermint from my candy dish, he twisted the ends tighter. He opened his mouth, took a breath, and then let it out slowly.

“Oh, right. The fuel-burn module. Want me to schedule a meeting with him tomorrow?” I clicked to Jackson’s calendar and searched for a free slot. “How’s two-thirty?”

A soft drumming was my only answer. His long fingers tapped out a rhythm against the side of his jeans.

“Tyler?” I prompted him again.

“Right. Sure.” He dragged his gaze off my desk and met mine. “A few of us are—I thought you’d like, maybe, to, uh—”

“Yes?” I typed up the meeting invitation and sent it while he hesitated. I glanced at the clock in the corner of my screen. If Jackson was leaving now, I could just make the early train. Definitely a good idea, considering the problems we’d had lately. A few weeks ago, Dad had tried to help out by making dinner but had ended up burning through a pot on the stove and setting off the smoke alarm.

“It’s three-dollar pint night, and…”

We both startled when Jackson slammed his office door and shouted down the hall, “Coop, get your ass in gear!”

Cooper emerged from his office, duffel bag thrown over his shoulder. Like Jackson, he wore a T-shirt that skimmed over his chest and ended just below the hip of a pair of tight-fitting bike shorts. My eyes trailed up his toned leg to the hint of a bulge just under the hem of that shirt. I swallowed.

“See you tomorrow.” Jackson waved lazily in our direction before he jogged to the stairs and held the door for Cooper. “After the ride, let’s—” The door shut behind them, cutting off Jackson’s words.

I blinked hard and then turned back to Tyler. “Sorry, what did you say?”

He took off his glasses and rubbed them on his T-shirt. Without his glasses, his eyes were dappled with specks of brown, blue, green, and gold, like Earth seen from space.

“I was thinking about going to the pub on the next block after work. Want to come with?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t tonight. Who’re you going with?” When we hung out together at the quarterly Synergy parties, the other programmers orbited Tyler like satellites. Most of them were okay, but a few wouldn’t even speak to someone without “developer” in her title. They scanned past me like I was some sort of exotic pink insect, completely beneath their notice.

“Oh, um. I hadn’t invited anyone else yet.”

I paused my packing. It was just like Tyler to build the gathering around me and my preferences. Such a sweet guy. If I were anyone else, I’d have jumped at the opportunity to spend time with him after work.

But I had responsibilities. And plans. “Maybe some other night?”

As soon as he nodded, I strode to the elevator and jabbed the button.

The doors slid open right away, and when I turned to press the button, I glimpsed Tyler’s downturned mouth as he watched me go. I gave him an apologetic smile and finger-waggle.

He’d be fine. He’d go out tonight with his other friends. He was like most people our age who worked at Synergy—dedicated and hardworking with few responsibilities outside the office, and with plenty of cash to party when the work was done.

Even though we’d been friends for the better part of a year and best buddies for more than six months, Tyler didn’t know I wasn’t like him. I hoped he didn’t think I was making up a fake excuse, like all my friends from college had. They’d slowly dropped out of my life after too many refused invitations, too many last-minute cancellations.

But from the moment he’d rescued me from that evil beer tap, Tyler had been different. He’d kept asking me places even though most times, I refused. He was a good friend. One worth keeping.

I’d take him to lunch the next day. But right then, I needed to woman up for my second job.

Thank You!

I love it when you buy direct from my store. As a small business, I earn more from each sale, which means I can continue to write all the steamy, funny romances you love to read. Thanks again and happy reading!

All my love,

Michelle

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