Page 66 of Faking It with my Small Town Billionaire

The minute I scrawl my signature across it, the men give me a round of applause.

There follows much patting on the back and words of congratulations, mixed in with how they are looking forward to working with me and how my appointment is well deserved.

“Now, gentlemen,” Pops announces. “Let’s join the ladies for a drink.”

“But not you,” he murmurs in my ear.

He rests his hand on my shoulder as we watch the men file out of the room, all muttering to each other; when the final one leaves, he nods to Pops and closes the door behind him.

“So, are you happy now?” I say to him, hardly masking my slight resentment.

Pops takes a step back and eyes me carefully. “You know it was never about the money, don’t you?” he says.

I’m confused by his words, and I tilt my head to the side and look at him inquiringly.

“Son,” he sighs, “I’ve watched you all these years. From the minute you left university, you threw your heart and soul into the business. You worked your fingers to the bone, starting from the bottom and working your way up.”

“I would have thought that work ethic would have pleased you,” I counter.

“And it did. But I was always waiting for the time you’d cool off, take a step back, and make a life outside of your job. I saw these women you had on your arm at business dinners, and imagined that, at some point, one of these beautiful ladies might be a future wife.” He gestured emphatically.

“But then you surpassed the wining and dining stage, and still, your life was your job. I didn’t want you to get married to inherit your fortune. I wanted you to get married so you wouldn’t be alone for the rest of your life.”

My jaw has dropped, and I’m now gawking at him.

“You don’t remember your grandmother. You were only two years old when she died. But I tell you, son, my life would have been a miserable mess without her. She was the light of my life. I wanted you to find that same happiness. This was never a punishment. It was a liberation.”

I’m completely gobsmacked, and in these passing seconds, I can’t find a single word to say. All this was actually to get me married so I wouldn’t spend my life alone?

“How could you possibly know I would find the right woman?” I blurt.

“Because your heart has always been in the right place, son,” he replies. He then tilts his head and gives me a half smile. “So, when are you actually going to marry her?”

My eyes fly wide, and I gawk at him again. I’m shaking my head and figuring out what I should say when he says, “Do you really think I didn’t know?”

“When? When did you know?”

“I knew before you arrived with that fake marriage certificate.”

“How?” I gasp.

“I called the public records office.” He shrugs and smirks at me.

I can’t help but laugh. “So you made me sit there and dare you to call them, even though you already had?”

Pops looks me dead in the eye and says, “And it was in that moment I knew what you were really made of. That took guts, son.”

“But I’m still not married.”

“No, but you will be.”

“How do you know?” I say.

“I knew you were in love with her at the gala. It was written all over your face. And I knew she was in love with you when she danced with me. She couldn’t run to your defense quickly enough, which is pretty hardcore, given who I am.”

“Wow,” is all I can manage.

“I’ll give you ten out of ten for creativity, son. And I like a man who can come up with original solutions. Now, shall we go and join your soon-to-be-wife?” He smirks.

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