romance, clean romance
Date Published: July 9, 2025
bachelor of nursing degree. Years before, Autumn learned the hard way men are
just a distraction she can’t afford until she’s established her
career and what she wants. While moonlighting as a Plus One companion pays the
bills, she struggles to follow her rules after meeting her newest contract.
Pediatric Hospitalist Jensen Edwards is still recovering from a bad breakup
that left him the talk of the hospital. Now he’s receiving a best
doctor’s award, but after he hires Autumn as his plus one, Jensen is on
edge. If word gets out that he hired a companion, rumors are bound to
circulate, making work unbearable—again. Their chemistry as a fake
couple is undeniable, but can a chance at a real relationship override their
fear of commitment?
EXCERPT
Chapter 1
Autumn
Seattle’s Rock Bar was like no other establishment I’d ever seen. While one half was ultra-modern with minimalistic barstools and tables, the other half was organic—a backlit wall with varying hues of peach and gold rock salt. Even the pendant lights were rough-hewn cubes of the natural mineral, giving the whole place a soft orange glow, like a photo filter. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find incense burning in the corner; it would have fit the vibe. Instead, I was greeted by the standard pungent aroma of spirits and beer.
I took a seat in front of the glowing wall facing the entrance, laying my gray pea coat over the back. A man, with a deeply creased smile and thatchy brown hair I’d bet my next paycheck was a wig, approached.
“Can I bring you a drink? Beer, wine, cocktail?” He laid a square brown napkin on the table.
I shook my head. “Um, just a water for now. I’m waiting for a friend.” I shifted my gaze to the light wood plank door. Still no client.
The server nodded and strode away.
I glanced around. The environment was precisely the type of place I’d expect to meet a personal life consultant—the listed profession of my newest client. However, Josh Anderson’s photo didn’t match how I’d pictured a twenty-seven-year-old inspirational guru. If I hired someone to oversee my mental well-being, I’d expect them to be a linen-wearing, happy person with a sense of empathetic energy. In the profile Josh submitted to my boss, Ruth, at the Plus One Companion Agency, he wore a navy suit and tie with neatly coiffed, coffee-colored hair. The leery smile was what threw me, though. Not to mention, his naturally smoldering dark eyes appeared way too aggressive—a common expression from most of my cocky, workaholic clients whose personal life only consisted of occasional one-night stands. However, Josh’s choice of venue had me doubting my first impression. Maybe he was a tranquil person who knew the secrets to happiness.
Last night, I checked out Josh’s website, The Life Lexicon, and found the homepage busy and gimmicky, filled with cheesy, uplifting quotes, hollow promises, and a link to register for his online classes. His site listed no qualifications and a disclaimer releasing him of any responsibility. Yet, Josh had over two million followers. As my lawyer father would say, something wasn’t adding up. I picked up the miniature wooden tool and raked swirls in the white sand of the Zen garden embedded in the table.
The server returned with a glass and small carafe of water. “I’ll check back in a few minutes.”
“Thank you.” Throwing him an apologetic smile, I curled my shoulders. I knew servers hated tables that wouldn’t generate a profit.
The man gave two sharp raps on the table with his knuckles and left.
I glanced at my watch. Fifteen minutes tested the limits of the no-show boundary—if Josh didn’t arrive soon, I’d bail.
Just then, the entrance door swung open, and in swayed my client. The pronounced hunch in his shoulders deemphasized his tall, lean build. Nodding acknowledgement, he flopped into the black chair across from me, almost slipping out the other side, and shifting his unbrushed hair over his sunglasses.
“Damn. You’re even hotter in person.” He wore a wrinkled black suit over a wine-stained, white cotton T-shirt. Josh wobbled and grabbed onto the edge of the table. “Whoa.”
Tonight is not going well. His breath was rank—the fermented stench of someone who’d already had several drinks. I leaned back in my booth, putting as much distance between him and myself as possible.
Josh dragged the back of his hand across his mouth. “So, how does this work?”
His slurred question was a standard from all my clients. I wish Ruth would put instructions on the website. “Well, we exchange pertinent information about ourselves and the expectations for tonight.” He might as well take off those damn sunglasses because they’re not disguising his wandering gaze. I feel dirty even talking to him.
A salacious smile crept over Josh’s lips.
“I got tested three weeks ago. I’m clean.”
Jerking my head back, I scowled. “What? No. I don’t need to know your medical history.”
Josh scratched his head, further mussing his hair. “You don’t?”
Ugh. Here we go again—he thinks I’m an escort . Moments like this made me frustrated with myself. If I could swallow my giant pride and accept financial help from my dads, I wouldn’t have to put up with clients like Josh to earn the additional income from Plus One. Swallowing the rising bile, I fought to keep the repulsion from my expression. “No. Your sex life is not relevant to a country club fundraising dinner.”
He barked a laugh. “I lied. We’re not going there. Country clubs are for people like my father.”
Sweat trickled down my back, and I readjusted the neckline of my burgundy wrap jumpsuit, covering as much of my cleavage as possible. “Then why did you hire me, Josh?”
He aggressively leaned forward, finally removing his sunglasses, his bloodshot eyes dark and cheek lifting. “A dare.”
I clenched my teeth. “What kind of dare?” Don’t say it. Don’t say it.
The rough pressure of his dress shoe tugged on my pant leg under the table, rubbing my calf. “The only kind I’d accept.” He winked.
Gross! I jerked my leg away and straightened, bracing my hands on the table. “What do you think you’re doing?” Heat rose up my chest, and I couldn’t stop my heart from pounding.
Josh reached forward and squeezed my wrist.
Twisting my left arm from his grip, I rested a hand on top of my purse, taking comfort in the bulk of the taser under my palm.
Josh leaned back, exhaling in a huff, and rolling his eyes. “Oh, come on, sweetheart. What do you think I’m doing? I’m cutting to the chase.”
Shaking my head, I collected my coat and bag. “Clearly, you didn’t read the constraints of the Plus One policies.” I stood, ensuring a safe distance. “Your contract is canceled. Good night.” Adrenaline raced through my veins, and I had to restrain myself from running toward the exit. When I got onto the sidewalk, I inhaled deeply, clearing Josh’s foul stench from my lungs—replacing his unpleasant odor with the familiar scent of downtown’s asphalt and brine. I strode to the corner away from the bar, with one hand on my taser, the other clutching my phone.
—Lil, leaving Rock Bar, keep an eye on me. Client was a creeper—
Since I’d started at Plus One, Lilly Huang—a fellow nursing student, Plus One companion, and my best friend—and I had worked out an anti-creeper system. She and I shared companion appointment calendars and location statuses via our phones to keep each other safe. I glanced over my shoulder like a skittish cat. The vibration of Lilly’s response made me jump.
—barf emoji I got you. Do you want to talk about it when you get home?—
—No, it’s okay. I’ve got my taser. I’ll fill you in tomorrow during class—
—Thumbs up emoji, wide-eyeball emoji—
Switching out of messages, I tapped on the app for my Plus One portal. I opened Josh’s contract and clicked cancel. A text box popped on the screen.
Are you sure you want to cancel this contract?
Hell, yes!
About the Author
Amanda and Lisa-Marie are an award-winning, co-writing team of best friends
who share imaginary worlds, including Men In Books Aren’t Better (September
29, 2024), Just What the Doctor Hired (July 9, 2025), and a short story,
Shivers, published in Moments Between (February 28, 2022). Lisa-Marie Potter
(BIPOC) is a mom of four who grew up in Nottingham, England, and now resides
in Alaska with her husband and golden retriever. Amanda Nelson grew up in
Maryland and moved to Arizona, where she attended ASU and currently lives with
her husband and four kids. Both women are hopeless romantics, but Lisa-Marie
also enjoys suspense novels, while Amanda’s second go-to genre is romancy. The
duo review books on their socials, hike the Olympic National Park, and fight
over the same fictional crushes.
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