Page 3 of Billionaire Book Boyfriend

Chapter 2

Drake

A Call to Fantasy

Ican’t shake the book.

It’s been two days since I finishedFlirty Dirty Secrets, but the story still lives rent free in my head. Not the plot itself—I could predict the twists and turns in the book from a mile away—but it’s the emotions, the way I felt while reading it, that lingers.

There’s something intoxicating about characters who seem larger than life yet real enough to reach out and touch. I’ve dismissed romance novels as fluff for years. I’ve thought they were the stuff of idle minds with too much time on their hands. Now, though, I find myself daydreaming about Natalie and herchoices, replaying scenes in my head as though they were my own memories.

This is madness.

I sit in my office, surrounded by the symbols of my empire: polished mahogany desks, glass walls that frame the city skyline, and a boardroom filled with strategy plans for my next investment. But my mind isn’t on my work. It’s on that damn book.

I open my laptop, ready to dive into the pile of unread emails waiting for me, but I can’t focus. I tap my fingers on the desk, scroll through a couple of random websites, check the time—twice—then open and close the same document without even reading a word. My leg bounces under the table, and I glance at my phone just for the sake of it, no new notifications.

Finally, my eyes drift to the bulletin board just outside my door. It’s a cluttered space, filled with a random assortment of business cards, flyers, and invitations left by collaborators and visitors. I usually ignore it since most of it has nothing to do with what I’m working on, but today, something catches my eye.

A huge advertisement, its edges tucked beneath another flyer for a charity gala, practically glows under the sunlight streaming in from the window. I can make out the words:Book Boyfriend Dating Agency.Curiosity sparks within me, and I feel an urge to check it out.

I narrow my eyes, incredulous. I rise from my chair and walk over to the board, pulling the flyer free from the pin that holdsit in place. The company’s name on the ad is confirmed, and it’s absurd, almost laughable.

“A Book Boyfriend dating agency? Is this like… based on... books?” I ask the empty space as I continue to read the small, elegant script on the bottom.

Ladies: What if your favorite book boyfriend was real?

Gentleman: What if you are someone’s favorite book boyfriend?

I let out a low chuckle. “This has to be some kind of joke.”

Curiosity gets the better of me, so I keep reading. The small print offers a brief explanation of the agency's mission: to connect with “dream book boyfriends” based on the type of heroes women swoon over in novels. It’s ludicrous. Who in their right mind would spend time and money chasing after fictional characters brought to life?

As ridiculous as it sounds, my mind drifts back to the time I spent in the shower after reading the book. To my thoughts of Natalie. To the surge of emotions I felt as I read about her erotic escapades with the charming, dangerous man who tried to steal her heart. A tiny, insistent voice whispers in the back of my mind,What if this wasn’t so ridiculous? What if this was a way to explore the feelings stirred up by the book, without losing control?

I should throw the flyer away and put the crazy idea of being someone’s “book boyfriend” out of my mind. I’ve thrown away childish ambitions of love long ago. I am Drake King, after all.A reformed man of logic, business, and ruthless ambition. I no longer dabble in fantasy.

But that same relentless voice, the one that keeps pulling me back into the world ofFlirty Dirty Secrets, makes me reconsider.

What harm could it do?

My life is under control. But lately, things feel... empty. Predictable. Maybe this could be an outlet. An indulgence that could help me shake the funk that book has left behind.

I drop back into my chair, staring at the paper between my fingers. It’s almost absurd to think about calling a dating agency based on some novel. Yet here I am, reaching for my phone.

I dial the number on the flyer before I can talk myself out of it.

“Thank you for calling the Book Boyfriend Dating Agency,” a bright, female voice answers after just two rings. “How can we help you today?”

I can’t believe this is real, even after deciding to call the number and hearing a real person on the other end of the phone. I open my mouth to speak, but for the first time in years, I find myself at a loss for words.

What exactly should I say? Hi, I’m interested in being a fantasy boyfriend? The absurdity hits me all at once, and I nearly hang up.

“I, uh...” I clear my throat. “I found one of your flyers, and I’m... curious about how this works.”

The woman on the other end doesn’t miss a beat. “Of course! We specialize in matching our clients with their ideal 'book boyfriend' based on their favorite romance novel characters. Think of it as living out your literary fantasies. We combine personality profiles with cutting-edge technology to create the perfect match. Are you interested in being a book boyfriend?”

I raise an eyebrow, my skepticism clear. “Literary fantasies determined by profiling and cutting-edge technology? Are you serious? Do people really take this stuff seriously?” I need to know. The last thing I want is to make a fool of myself by diving into something so... outlandish.

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