Hart Street Lane (Return to Dublin Street #3) Read Online Samantha Young

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Return to Dublin Street Series by Samantha Young
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Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
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A steamy fake engagement romance from New York Times Bestselling Author Samantha Young.

Faking it has never been so hard…

Breaking up with my fiancé wasn’t on my agenda this summer, neither was hiding the truth from everyone, including my colleagues at Pennington’s department store. But that tiny evasion gets me into trouble when I’m forced to play bride-to-be for our new marketing campaign. If my boss finds out I’ve lied to her, it won’t just be my reputation on the line; it’ll be my job.

Enter my new bestie, Baird McMillan. Professional goalkeeper, professional heartbreaker, and now my professional fake fiancé. Baird’s public escapades have gotten him on the wrong side of his football club’s new owner, and he needs to prove he’s settling down. A fake engagement is a win-win for us both.

There’s just one problem. It turns out there’s nothing fake about the explosive connection Baird and I share.

I may not have been looking for love, but every moment with Baird tempts me to reach for it. Yet just as I start to believe a future together could be a real possibility, our pasts come surging back with a vengeance. And with it, those who will do anything to destroy our chance at forever

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PROLOGUE

MAIA

It was past seven, and I was already late to get home for no-doubt the healthiest takeout my fiancé Will could find. My assistant Eli had left an hour ago with the rest of our team, including our boss, Christina. I was ready to be done for the day. Therefore, the sight of Becky Carruthers sashaying my way in her six-inch heels filled me with agitation.

Just five seconds. If she’d been five seconds later, I’d have already gotten on the lift and escaped.

She gestured with an impatient, demanding flick of her wrist, and I stupidly looked straight at her, losing my chance at plausible deniability.

“I’m surprised I caught you. You’re usually well gone by now.” Becky halted in front of me and thrust her tablet into my face.

Since her observation was deliberately incorrect, I forced the irritation out of my tone. “Problem?”

I loved my job as the senior fashion buyer at Pennington’s, one of the oldest department store chains in the country. Since Pennington’s Edinburgh was the flagship store, we were the cogs and wheels of the entire company, making all inventory and marketing decisions for our website and the four Pennington’s stores across the UK. The offices were on the two floors above the large bookstore next to Pennington’s, and we had direct access to the department store from there.

It was fun and exciting to stay on top of trends and travel for the Big Four. I flew out to Paris, New York, London, and Milan for fashion month at the end of September, early October, to see fashion collections and trends before they made it to the retailer level. I made selections and predictions based on our customer data, and we were then sent samples that I got to muse and mull over with my fashion buyer assistant Liza and my boss Christina, who was head of buying. Eli was my personal assistant, but they were interested in working their way up, so I encouraged them to offer opinions too. Our profit margin suggested my team had an excellent eye. There had been several seasons where an item had gone viral from Pennington’s, kicking off a national trend. I even enjoyed negotiating with suppliers, managing our budget, and collaborating with marketing on promotions.

That is … I used to enjoy collaborating with marketing.

Becky was hired as marketing manager eighteen months ago, and she was driven to the point of driving me insane. If it were up to Becky, we’d all work sixteen-hour shifts and have no life at all. That was fine. Kind of. However, her passive-aggressive suggestions that I didn’t work hard enough and that I was relying on my wealthy fiancé for financial stability were not fine. Becky was full of snide comments I had to pretend I didn’t hear for the sake of professionalism. Not to mention that since Becky’s arrival, Liza had become somewhat frosty and aloof with me. Sometimes downright rude, and since I was her boss, I should call her out for it. But the situation had made me paranoid. Especially considering our relationship was fine until Becky entered the picture.

“Head office just gave their go-ahead to an idea Nadia on my team came up with.” Her lips pinched, and I knew she was pissed that Nadia had come up with an idea she hadn’t.

I glanced over the email. It was confirmation that the marketing department had been given the green light and a considerable budget to proceed with their new marketing campaign. Apparently, to boost the company’s social media presence and bring them into this decade, Nadia had suggested running a campaign following an engaged couple through their wedding journey. Pennington’s would supply everything for the hen night, stag do, ceremony, and reception, homeware for their new home together, and a luxury five-star honeymoon. The couple wouldn’t have to pay for a thing, but they’d have their lives splashed across Pennington’s socials for months as the campaign unfolded.

It was actually kind of genius.

“Well done to Nadia.”

Becky grimaced, and I shifted uncomfortably at her jealous annoyance.

“Just let me know what you need. Happy to source whatever. I bought several gowns from Vienne’s upcoming bridal collection for the store, and there are stunning options for the campaign. Anyway, we’ll talk tomorrow. I’m late for Will.”

Becky’s gaze flickered to the elaborate diamond engagement ring Will had slipped onto my finger at around the same time Becky joined our Edinburgh store. “What a luxury it must be not to have to worry about working yourself into the ground because you have a fiancé with an amazing job.” She tilted her head as she repeated a comment I’d heard from her almost every week since she started working here.

I gave her a tight smile. “We still have our own flats. No one else pays for my life.”

She blinked, clearly surprised I’d responded. “Oh. That’s a little defensive. I didn’t mean to hit a nerve. Anyway.” She stepped closer, and I visualized drawing a crazy mustache on her face so I wouldn’t call her a passive-aggressive cow. “I think you and Will are the perfect couple for the campaign. I already ran it by Hilary, and she agrees.”


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