Page 4 of Billionaire Book Boyfriend

“Our clients take it very seriously,” she replies, her tone unwavering. “Some are skeptical at first, but by the end, they’re blown away by the experience. You’d be surprised how closely we can align our matches with your favorite fictional characters. It’s... transformative matchmaking.”

I hesitate, fighting the urge to hang up. But something about this woman’s confidence intrigues me. There’s a sincerity to her words that makes me wonder if there’s more to this than I initially thought.

“Alright, say I’m interested in being a book boyfriend. What’s the process?”

“It’s quite simple, really. We’ll start with a brief consultation to determine the traits you’re looking for in a partner. Are you drawn to fiery, independent heroines, sweet and nurturingsouls, or perhaps someone with a little bit of mystery and allure? After we find out those things, we use our proprietary system to find someone who matches those qualities in real life. We guarantee that every match feels like stepping straight out of the pages of your favorite romance.”

I find myself leaning forward in my chair, intrigued despite myself. “What if... hypothetically, I want someone like a character in a book I’ve just read? How could you find me someone like that?”

“We’ve got a wide database of individuals with diverse personalities and backgrounds,” she replies smoothly. “We find out which fictional traits appeal to you and match you with someone who has those qualities. Maybe it’s their confidence or their tortured soul—whatever it is, we’re quite good at blurring the line between fiction and reality.”

I mull that over, still skeptical but undeniably intrigued. The last thing I expect is for a business like this to be so... methodical. There’s no giggling, no over-the-top sales pitch. Just a calm professionalism that has me thinking.

“All right,” I say slowly, “I’ll bite. Let’s set up this consultation.”

“Wonderful!” The woman’s tone brightens, as though she’s known all along I would say yes and she was just waiting for me to realize it. “We can schedule you for a preliminary interview this week. How’s Thursday at 4 PM?”

I check my calendar, my eyes lingering on the board meeting I’m meant to attend. I should decline, should dismiss this as nonsense. But something stops me.

“Thursday at 4 works.”

“Excellent. We’ll send over the details shortly. You’re going to have a fantastic experience, Mr. King.”

I hang up the phone, a bemused smile playing at the corners of my mouth. I can’t believe I’ve just done that.

“What the hell is happening to me?” I mutter, leaning back in my chair and sending a quick text to all the board members with a new date and time for our meeting.

I glance at the Book Boyfriend Dating Agency’s business paper again, now resting on my desk, and shake my head. I am Drake King—empire builder, ruthless businessman from Lowndes County, a man who has clawed his way to success with grit and determination, not some whimsical dreamer lost in fantasy.

I allowed myself to get caught up in dreams of love, passion, and desire when I fell for Terrica—a woman who I knew was in love with someone else. I won’t allow myself to dream like that ever again.

But as my mind drifts back toFlirty Dirty Secretsand the emotions it stirred in me, an unexpected question gnaws at me. Maybe I can allow myself, just this once, to step out of my rigid rules and indulge in a little fantasy. I don’t have to fall in love—just have a good time.

What could possibly go wrong?

Chapter 3

Emily

They Found a Match!

Isit at my desk, staring at the blinking cursor on my laptop. I rushed home today from work to write the next scene of my new novel, but my mind keeps drifting.Flirty Dirty Secretsis everywhere. The unexpected success has taken me by surprise, and now I’m constantly checking social media and review sites to see what readers are saying. Most of them love it, gushing over the book’s romance and sexual tension, but there’s an undercurrent of disbelief. They don’t know who I really am, and I want to keep it that way.

My phone buzzes, pulling me from my thoughts. Excitement rushes through me when I realize it’s the dating agency.

“Ms. Jameson?” The voice is cheerful, almost too perky for my anxiety. “We’ve found a match for you based on your profile. It’s someone who also aligns with the traits you’ve mentioned in your ideal ‘book boyfriend.’ His name is Drake King. He’s successful, charming, and has a little bit of mystery to him. And, well, he’s very interested in meeting you because you match his profile for the perfect book girlfriend.”

My heart races. I signed up for the Book Boyfriend Dating Agency through their website on a whim, never really thinking they’d find someone who fit my fantasy criteria. After all, it was just something fun to do, a distraction—a way to indulge my secret love of romance without getting too involved. But now, hearing that a match has been made, reality is setting in.

"Drake King?" I repeat, leaning back in my chair. The name has an imposing weight to it. "You’re sure we’re a match?"

“Absolutely! We met with him last Thursday, and he’s an excellent fit for you based on his questionnaire. His profile is in your email, and he’s very excited to meet you,” the woman says, prompting me to click into my email and browse Drake’s profile, which is definitely new. I would have remembered if I had ever seen him. “I preemptively set up a reservation for you both at Le Jardin this Thursday evening at seven. Does that work for you?” Her question reluctantly draws my attention from Drake’s gorgeous picture.

I hesitate, my fingers hovering over the keys. Meeting someone new is always nerve-wracking. It’s not just the typical first-datejitters; it’s the fear of exposing the parts of myself I’ve kept hidden for so long. But it’s time for me to step out and find what could be out there for me.

I’ve never been the type to date much. Every free moment I have from my job as a library clerk, I spend it in seclusion, writing my own books. My love life has always taken a backseat to my writing, and, if I’m honest, to my fear of vulnerability. I’ve built a wall around my true identity—both as Eva Steele, the author of steamy bestsellers, and as a woman with a tender, romantic heart. In my books, I can control the narrative, make the heroes fall in love, and guide the happy endings. But in real life? I have no such power, and that terrifies me.

I rarely venture beyond the world of my characters, finding more comfort in the pages of my novels than in the awkward conversations and uncertainties of dating. Sure, I’ve had a few casual dates over the years, but nothing serious. Every time things threatened to get real, I retreated back into my solitude, where I could stay safe and protected. Books don’t judge, and they never disappoint.

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