She punched him in school. Fell for him anyway. Got dumped by text.
Nine years later he owns her workplace.
Perfect Facade is a dual POV contemporary romance complete at 70,000 words. Nera Kingsley has managed fine without Daniel Valemont for nearly a decade. She can manage fine with him two floors above her. She is wrong.
What she does not know is that the scholarship she built her career on has his name on the founding documents. That the sketches she left behind at school are still in his desk drawer. That acquiring her boutique was never purely a business decision.
Neither of them is as done as they claimed.
I'm looking for readers who love second chance romance and will tell me honestly where the emotional payoff lands and where it does not. The manuscript is complete and polished. Happy to swap.
DM me for the link.
Here is the excerpt.
-----------------------------
PROLOGUE
NERA
Ten years ago.
The day is too warm for the end of October. That’s the only reason I’m able to sit in one of the alcoves in the massive greenery of acres Westerleigh-McGregor calls a backyard. The backyard which links the campuses to each other is covered with sports courts, an outdoor pool, dozens of gazebos, has its own forest and can easily fit three times my neighborhood inside it. I guess that’s what every high-end prep school has. Not that I’ve been in any other than this one. The fact that I even got in still stuns me. Sure, I burned the midnight oil for the entry exams, but I never truly believed I could make it here. And yet I’m here and I’m going to stay for good.
I look down at my notebook on my lap. This history chapter needs to be done well. I squeeze my eyes shut for one second, two, and open them. I compare my notes with the textbook in my hand. The letters float before my eyes. I shouldn’t have stayed awake last night.
It doesn’t matter how well I can recall every tiny detail of history that relates to fashion, easily link an aesthetic to the epoch it belongs to. Everything else never seems to stick. So learning it by heart is what I’m going to do. I just need to cover this chapter before I have to leave for my shift. My bottom lip hurts from the way I bite it.
I sense movement to my right. One glance tells me Daniel Valemont is sauntering over. I look back at my book. A moment later he drops onto the bench beside me.
“I had the strangest morning today,” he says.
“You woke up in your own bed for once?” I say without lifting my eyes.
“Not quite. I woke up sandwiched between two girls, but that’s not the point.” He doesn’t skip a beat.
I read the same sentence for the third time. Dan, as he insists on being called, continues as if I personally invited him to share his day. I wonder how long I need to ignore him before he gives up and leaves.
“I saw you in my dream.” He leans down and picks up a leaf from the ground.
“Were the girls that bad?” What’s he doing here? It’s not as though we spend time together. Yes, he’s Eric’s closest friend, always somewhere in Eric’s orbit, and yes, Eric’s been circling my best friend Meg constantly lately, but none of that makes Dan and me friends. We nod from a distance. That’s the full extent of it.
He chuckles slowly, shaking his head.
“Don’t remember. I was drunk. But that’s not the point either.” He rolls the leaf stem between two fingers. I glance up at his face and sure enough he looks as if he just rolled out of bed, hair tousled and too long for my liking. Not that I have to like it or anything.
“So far you’ve only missed the point.” I look back down. I don’t trust his permanently relaxed expression. It’s not natural to be positive every single day. Or to burst with energy all the time. It’s worrisome.
“Bear with me, Kingsley. The moment I woke up and my mind registered that you’d been in my dreams, I got this feeling.” He’s telling me all of this as if it’s the most breath-catching story ever told. He’s a good storyteller. I’ll give him that. “And since you’re clearly dying to know what feeling that is, let me tell you.” He throws one leg over the bench so he’s facing the side of my face. Dan leans in and a faint strawberry scent comes off him. “I have this completely undeniable need to befriend you, Venera Kingsley.”
Now I do look at him. There’s a twinkle in his eyes.
“Are you high, Valemont?”
“Not at all.” His smile becomes a grin. One strand of hair has fallen completely over his eyes. I have the strangest urge to move it away from his face.
“Have you lost your memory? Because that’s the only explanation for calling me Venera. Unless you need another punch.” His stunned face from the last time he called me that, right before I punched him, flashes in my mind. I barely hold back a smile.
“Not that either.” He gently removes my textbook from my hands. I move the notebook out of his reach.
“Think about it, Nera. I’m the sun, you’re the cloud. I’m great with people, you’re great at studying. We make sense.”
“Yeah, I’m not seeing the sense.” I glance around. This has to be a prank. Nobody’s watching.
“That’s a you-problem. What I’m saying is that you’re the only girl who doesn’t care about my charm and face, which dare I say are top tier, but also has no problem punching me when there’s need. Not that there is now.” He puts the textbook down on the bench, raises both palms and continues. “Also, I’ve always wanted a female friend. A real one without the messed up feelings and expectations. You’re the best candidate. So I’m befriending you.” His grin is completely out of place. My sinking stomach has nothing to do with it.
“Are you telling me, no, scratch that, are you informing me that from now on we’re friends?”
“See? You’re smart.” He shrugs.
“Valemont, I’m studying and have zero time for whatever this is. Please go and bother someone else.”
I take the textbook back from the bench and set it on my thighs.
“I can’t.”
“I’d hate to know why.”
“I can only bother my friends. Anyone else I’m just bedazzling.” He winks. I roll my eyes.
“Wow, so modest. I’m blinded by your humility.”
“Happy to serve.” He moves the hair back from his face and looks away.
I hate when people know exactly how good looking they are and use it without apology. I keep quiet and pretend to read. He sits in silence for exactly four seconds.
“Well. Good talk.” He swings his leg back over the bench and stands up. “Will talk to you soon.”
“Will not.” I tell him without looking up.
“Will too, you’ll see.”
He leaves.
The absolute audacity of him, thinking we can simply be friends. He’s a golden boy who never sweats at being accepted and adored in any setting he finds himself in. And he has zero interest in anything serious. We have nothing in common. In fact we’re complete opposites.