Page 4 of Fake Fiancé for the Billionaire Rockstar

Evan fired him after crossing a line with Ryker that no manager should cross — I mean, who tracks their clients’ every move and practically stalks them? After Mack got fired, he pretty much lost his mind and went after Evan. That’s where Mia comes into play. She’s gorgeous and looks like a sweetheart — but don’t get fooled by that. She’ll knock you out within seconds if she feels someone she cares about is being threatened.

My point is, I didn’t expect Mack to open the door for me when I showed up. What I hadn’t expected was for a bombshell like Carmen to open the door, a scowl on her face like I’m the last person she wanted to see. I think that’s what started the attraction.

I’m used to women flocking to me, batting their eyelashes hoping I’ll take them to my bed for a story to tell their friends, and Carmen went out of her way to get away from me. She gives me the cold shoulder most times, but that doesn’t stop me from eyeing the way she looks each morning she meets with us.

My phone rings, pulling me from my thoughts, and I snag it from my pocket while heading toward the kitchen that rarely gets used. The appliances are top of the line, but I can’t rememberever cooking in here — I usually leave that to my personal chef, who makes the best Thai food I’ve ever had.

I roll my eyes at the caller ID, but slide my finger across the screen because I know she’ll just keep calling if I don’t. “Mom,” I say, then pull open the fridge in hopes that Thea has more food tucked on the second shelf for me.

“Donald, baby,” she says, ignoring the nickname I’ve told her countless times I prefer. I don’t bother correcting her anymore.

There are some battles that aren’t worth fighting over, and this is one of them.

“Things are going good, I assume?” my mother asks.

“Great.” I swallow thickly, the lie I’ve told her going down with it.If only she knew how much I wished it were true. How much I wished I had someone to come home to.

“That’s wonderful news because your father and I are going to visit before our cruise next week. We’re looking forward to meeting your fiancée.”

My stomach drops. fiancée. Right. The one that doesn’t exist. “Mom, maybe that’s not such a good idea. I’ve got that charity concert coming up. Swamped with rehearsals.” My mind races, trying to find a way out of this mess.

Please say okay, that you understand and don’t want to get in the middle of my work.

“I’m sure you can take a couple of days to spend some time with your family, right?” she asks and I can imagine her brow arched, challenging me, with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

“You’re right.” I slump forward in defeat, no longer having the appetite to eat the food in front of me. “When do you think you’ll be here?”

“In a few days.”

“I’ll make sure the housekeeper has the guest room prepared for you.”

“Wonderful!”

We’re silent for a moment, and I clear my throat. “I’m heading to bed. I guess I’ll see you guys soon.”

“Love you, baby.”

As soon as we hang up, I rub at my temples where a headache is starting to build and blow out a rough breath.

This is what I get for telling her stories of a woman who doesn’t exist. I never would’ve had to act like I’m the happiest guy in the world if she wasn’t constantly badgering me about my love life. Every single time we talked on the phone, she would bringanother one of her friends’ daughters, who she thought I would make cute babies with.

It was suffocating me to the point that a few months ago, I told her that I was engaged. Of course, the news ended with her demanding to know why I never said anything, and I had to make up another lie about wanting things to stay private for as long as they could.

After that she started hounding me to bring her to visit them, that they would love to meet her, and thankfully I always had the perfect excuse — we were in the middle of creating a new album, which isn’t a lie, and it was taking up all my time. Then her focus went on making sure I was still giving my fiancée the attention she deserved and not working myself to death.

I guess my time has run out.

How the hell am I going to find someone who is willing to act like my lover when I don’t even talk to women? All the women I’m surrounded by are already taken — Julia, Mia, Mallory.

A light bulb goes off in my head and I straighten my spine, a smirk tilting at the corner of my lips.

No, I couldn’t possibly do it.

The only other woman I’m constantly around, who I know for certain doesn’t have a man in her life, is the one woman who would be most likely to wrap her pretty fingers around my neck.My dick jumps behind the zipper of my jeans and I do my best to tame the desire clawing inside of me.

Carmen would never agree to it.

Just thinking about her has my mind running wild with an image from when I first started back with the band. The way her skirt tightened around her thighs and accentuated her curves, or the deep red blouse that showed just the smallest swell of her breasts.

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