Page 70 of Fake

“I do now,” he says with a wide grin.

“Benjamin, I?—”

Hold on.

Wait.

He said what, now?

“You believe me?”

He nods.

“Then why in the world did you spend a small fortune for a few hours with me?”

Benjamin swipes his drink off the table, fighting laughter. “It’s all part of my grand plan.”

I harrumph back into my chair. “I figured that much out, but I’m looking for some clarity as to what that plan might be.”

“For one, I promised myself at the start of my career that if I made my fortune, I’d give freely, as often as possible. What’s the point of being wealthy if you can’t spread goodness around where it’s needed? Hence, my very large donation to a reputable charity this evening.”

That’s admirable enough and more in line with the man I thought I knew. I sigh in relief knowing I won’t be rebutting his advances tonight. “So, it had nothing to do with me.”

“Not so fast, princess.” Mischief glints in Benjamin’s eyes. “It had everything to do with you.”

All the relief that had been seeping through my bones freezes. I press my lips together and study the man across from me for a tense second, my hands balled into fists before I cock my head and hit him with some pent-up truth.

“Now I’m downright confused,” I say, shaking my head and holding up my hands. “And frankly, I’m getting tired of being confused because nothing in my life makes sense or is what it’s supposed to be and if you can just clear things up for me sooner rather than later, I’d really appreciate that because I need something to be firm and defined before I lose my mind.”

Benjamin lifts a brow. “We’re going to circle back to all that at some point, but I need to finish the speech I started or I’ll lose my place and skip something important. The house we designed for Nathan West will be the best thing I’ve ever produced, and that’s no accident. That’s because of you.”

My jaw drops. “Me?”

Considering the worst thing he’s ever produced is still award-worthy, that’s a hell of a compliment.

“The way we work together is a rare and singular gift. A partnership like this doesn’t just happen and we would be negligent not to act on it. I’ve recently been contacted by a high-profile client, and I want you to work with me on her project. In fact, I want you to be the only interior designer to work with me from this point forward. I want to go into business with you. Bancroft and Blake Design.” Benjamin waves a hand through the air like he’s reading from a sign, then cocks his head. “Though the name is open for revisions.”

I blink in the darkness, my heart tripping over my stomach to see who makes sense of his proposition first. Both of them land flat on the ground and refuse to get up. There’s no sense to be made here. This is surreal stacked on absurd with a twist of dream come true.

“You paid one hundred thousand dollars just to get me alone and make a business proposal?”

“Yes.” Benjamin sips his drink, watching me over the rim of the glass. “And also no. I could have called you tomorrow and met you at the office and did all of this there. But!” He holds up an exclamation point of a finger. “Think of the buzz I just created. How many people are asking who you are? How many people have our names on their lips right now? After Nathan’s house is complete, we’ll catch even more attention. And even more after our next project. Everyone will want to hire Benjamin Bancroft and the Hundred Thousand Dollar Girl.”

A quick glance over my shoulder proves his point. At least half the guests are pretending not to stare in our direction. The other half aren’t bothering to pretend. I give Benjamin an approving nod and pick up my glass.

“That’s savvy,” I say and heft my champagne his way.

He clinks his glass to mine. “I might be too blunt to interact with most people, but that ability to see through bullshit makes me an excellent marketer.”

“I’m impressed.”

“Like I said, stick with me kid. We’re gonna do good things together.”

We drink to that. Then drink again. Then suddenly it all lands. I just got offered my dream job while drinking champagne on the beach in a dress that makes me feel beautiful. Somewhere back there, my super rich, super hot, boyfriend—because I think that must be what we are to each other—is waiting with his family that feels like sunshine. When they hear what’s just happened, they’ll be almost as happy for me as I am for myself.

How is this my life?

“So, what now?” I grin, catching on to the fun of the game. “Are we going to sit out here all night, whispering over drinks? Let people talk and wonder?”

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