Fake Engagement Mistake: Bachelors of Clear Creek, #1

By Lisa Renee

Paul agrees to a fake proposal with his friend's younger sister, Becca to appease her parents instead of sending her to college. As as teen, he often annoyed her, but now the five year age gap between them doesn't seem as huge and how they see each other has changed.

When Becca pushes for them to kiss to convince the locals that the relationship is real, she gets way more than she bargained for.

 

Prequel Novella to the Sweet Romantic Comedy series Bachelors of Clear Creek.

 

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• Language: English
• Publisher: The Colab Press
• Release date: Jun 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9780645109429

Lisa Renee

Lisa Renee adds love and laughter to every page of her romantic comedies. With a knack for multi-tasking, or shall we say multiplying, she has seven children to prove it. But these days, instead of breeding humans, Lisa has taken up breeding Ragdoll cats.   Lisa and her furry family live in Australia, where she loves coming up with swoon-worthy stories filled with awkward moments, and co-interviewing authors for the podcast, Behind the Story with Naomi and Lisa.

Book preview

Chapter One

PAUL

My elderly client turns the shoebox upside down, and receipts rain onto my mahogany desk. What in tarnation? The whirling fan above scatters several wisps of paper to the floor. I snap my jaw shut. The man slaps his weathered hands over the pile. This is all I could find.

I turn off the fan and return to my desk. Let me get this straight, Mr. Wilcox. You haven't done a tax return in three years? I pinch a creased slip of paper between my fingers and squint at the faded gas receipt. These are all the records you've kept for your lawn mowing business?

Deep-set brown eyes peer at me in innocence. He doesn't appear to be a fraudulent tax criminal, but obviously, bookkeeping isn't his strength.

I'm sure there are lots of other expenses, but I keep forgetting to keep receipts. I didn't do a vehicle logbook either. No one told me I needed to.

I fold my hands. That's no problem. I'll work with what you have. The only thing is, the more hours I spend on preparing your tax returns, the more it will cost you. Do you plan to return with the total of the receipts and the information I've listed here— I rip off the page of my scribbled notes. —or do you want me to take care of this?

Mr. Wilcox scratches behind his ear and sits straight. I'd rather leave it with you and not give it a second thought. I find the whole thing bothersome, which is why it's taken me this long to stop by.

That's okay. I have a few jobs today, but I'll have this completed first thing Monday. We'll make an appointment, and you can come in and sign the documents. I assume you don't do PDF signing or scan documents?

The lines in Mr. Wilcox's forehead deepen like ripples in beach sand. What does PDF mean?

I wave my hand. It's not important. Come in on Monday lunchtime, and I'll lodge these tax returns for you.

Mr. Wilcox scrapes his chair as he stands, rubs his palms down his muddied work pants, and holds out a hand. Thanks, Paul. I'll sleep better knowing my taxes will get taken care of.

I glance at the dirty hand and shake it. Any time. I'm glad to be of service. Don't let it build up next time. I wink. And I'll give you a complimentary divider file to keep your receipts nice and neat for the next financial year.

I show him to the door and wave goodbye.

My mood lifts when I find Jake Mardell sitting in the waiting room. Hey, bud. I forgot you had an appointment.

Jake stands to his full six-foot frame and gives me a friendly clap on the shoulder. I won't take offense. Good to see you too.

I chuckle and gesture to the padded chair in my office. I close the door and face my childhood friend. I'm relieved to see you don't have a shoebox.

Jake raises a brow. Am I missing something?

I smirk, sit in my swivel chair, and lean forward. I love the people of Clear Creek County, but sometimes, I have to roll my eyes at the older folks' ideas of bookkeeping.

Jake slips out a USB drive from his pocket and slides it across the desk. It bumps into my keyboard. I could've sent a Dropbox link but thought I'd do it the old-fashioned way.

You're awesome. I stick the USB drive into my computer port and load the file. How's business?

Quoting has increased on council landscaping projects, so I'll be able to take on more employees.

I thread my fingers through my thick hair. Be careful. You might find it more economical to contract before you commit to putting people on the payroll. It's better to wait for a steady increase in work. That way, you don't have to let people go and pay more than you've accounted for.

Jake rubs his stubbled chin and nods. True.

I scoot my office chair to the filing cabinet and select a form. I roll back to the desk and pass the paper and a pen to Jake. Can you itemize your assets used for business and their estimated value? It would save me research time and reduce accounting fees. I have your utility details from last year, so I'll depreciate according to the standard rate. I'll only note large purchases and make sure you've entered them into the correct categories in QuickBooks.

Sure. Jake pulls the form closer and scrunches his brows. This won't take long. Most of the items I bought were under three hundred dollars. He looks to the ceiling and back to the paper, then scribbles notes.

Are you coming to the pool game tonight? I lean back in my chair.

Jake finishes writing and passes the paperwork. I'll be there. Ethan too.

I scoff. Ethan thinks he'll beat me this week. He's dreaming.

Jake laughs. The guy's getting better. Don't put it past him. And he's sneaky enough to distract the opposition by asking awkward personal questions.

Thanks for the warning. I glance at the form and place it in a manila folder. If your file's in order, I'll email you the assessment and total tax deductions.

Jake rubs the back of his neck. I hope you're able to reduce the taxes. I'm still paying off Dad's medical bills.

My stomach drops. To spend all that money on cancer treatment and still lose his dad in the fight. The repayments must be a painful reminder. I'm sorry you have debt on your shoulders. More sorry that—he's gone.

Jake stands, leaving the chair swinging. He glances at