Page 16 of Falling for My Billionaire Fake Date

Sitting there, I realize how beautiful she really is. She looked beautiful back at the bar, but under the natural light of day, I realize that the colored lights had done no justice to her beauty.

I can now tell the true color of her hair—a rich chestnut shade that really contrasts with her porcelain skin. Her perfectly shaped eyebrows are pulled tightly in anger, and her beautiful, full, bow-shaped lips are downturned into a frown. She really is beautiful. Too bad the same can’t be said about her character. You don’t go around leveling judgmental gazes at people on your first meeting.Yikes, there I go again.Am I thinking of her or of myself?

“Are we starting this interview or what, Mr. Jacob Reynolds?” The last words spewing out of her like shards of ice.

My name coming from her sounded weird. The good kind of weird. All my life, I’ve been Jake. To friends, colleagues, anddistant family members. Only my mom calls me Jacob, especially when I’ve done something to displease her, or as a warning.

Speaking of which, her deadline is this Saturday, and I have no plan whatsoever. I have to present a girl she will actually like or risk her ire for lying about my imaginary girlfriend. Bella will be present, and hurting her feelings is the last thing I want to do

Staring at Aurora’s face, an insane plan begins to take root in my mind. A very insane plan. Judging from what I’ve garnered about Aurora so far, she’ll definitely not hold back from giving me a black eye this time, as I’ve noticed her ready to do. I sigh, gesturing for her to pass over her files, suddenly not in the mood to rile her up anymore.

Opening my mouth to ask her about her experiences, I shock us both by what comes blurting out. My eyes widen in surprise, and Aurora’s green ones are a pool of surprise and confusion. “What did you say?” she asks, disbelief coloring her voice, her eyes still round in shock and confusion.

I might as well lie in the grave I dug for myself. My brain must have detached itself from my vocal cords. I’ve popped the question. I might as well go with the flow. Who knows, I might be able to convince her or end up sleeping with an eye open for the rest of my life. The latter is seemingly more possible than the former.

I clear my throat and adjust my collar, the air suddenly stifling hot. I hear myself, in a voice I can hardly identify as mine, again ask the question I had foolishly blurted out.

“I asked if you would like to be my girlfriend,” I say, gauging her reaction, rolling my lips inside my mouth - a nervous habit of mine.

She has her mouth opened in a small “o” shape, looking absolutely adorable. Her eyes have a strange light in them, and I feel the fury coming any moment. She had the same light shining in her very expressive eyes at the bar, and I feel absolutely irritated with myself. Alongside that is a sinking feeling of disappointment.

Have I been seriously hoping for a better reaction? I’d understand if she thought I was loony for asking such questions, but not the judgment. I feel anger tinge the hope I didn’t even know was budding in my mind. Not the hope that she’d agree to be my girlfriend— I’d be wary if she had agreed immediately. It was an involuntary feeling of hope that she was not as bad as I had thought.

What was I thinking, asking Aurora for help? A mistake, albeit, but I do not like the look in her eyes one bit.

“Do not flatter yourself, Princess. Of course, I mean a fake girlfriend.” Laying emphasis on the ‘fake,’ I continue. “And it’ll be just for three months,” I say. “Agree to my condition, and you’re hired,” I add, dousing a burning house with gasoline.

For a moment, I see disappointment flash through her eyes, before that light goes out completely. A cold look shines on her face as it turns completely red. Her deep teal-green eyes go up in flames, flashing like lightning.

The change has me shuddering on the inside, but I just cannot seem to change my demeanor on the outside. I remain the aloof jerk I’ve been playing and I have no idea why. This is really not me.

Chapter thirteen

Aurora – But it’s a Fake One

I’ve been called many things when people thought I wasn’t in hearing distance, or when they simply didn’t notice my presence.The divorcee’s girl. The sad girl. Matthew’s sad daughter. Pathetic. Pitiable. Sad. And many more.None of those words had ever gotten to me. It is to be expected when you live in a town—the more domestic side of it at least.

Words tend to spread around like wildfire. And people never forget. Living in what used to be a small town means everyone knows your business, and more often than not, you get stuck with some names. I stopped minding those names a very long time ago.

I don’t know what to make of Jake’s proposal, or what he thought of me. I was definitely beeping on the lowest range of his radar if he could offer to me to be his fake girlfriend for three months. First, it was the comment about coming to serve drinks with a pretty face, and now this.

I should have known he was too proud to be just a worker in a construction company. I should have read between the lines when he said a construction company is a better contribution to society.

I definitely should have read between the lines when it clicked that Britt hadn’t been a sweaty, puffy mess on her way back from her morning run. She had been the perfect opposite of that, her pin-straight hair cascading down her back in an inky fall. Her olive skin had been glowing, and her eyebrows had been well-plucked and perfectly shaped.

She could pass for a photoshoot on a makeup tutorial magazine. She had been wearing black jeans with a stylish, baggy long-sleeved sweater.

The fragrance of her sweet perfume invaded my nose. I grasped onto it and slowly climbed back into reality. I had been so shaken by Alex’s text that I hadn’t noticed her lack of sweatiness at all, commenting about how her olive skin was glowing, not sweaty as I had expected.

Ryan’s visit had been unplanned, and he had fed me some advice about going for the interview. A logical conclusion dawns on me, and I perk up like an ice cube was thrown inside my shirt.

“Did my friends try to set me up with you?” I ask him in disbelief. By now, I think they would have given up, seeing as how our first meeting had turned out so bad. Jake hisses in disbelief, narrowing his dark eyes venomously at me, looking like a vengeful angel.

“You flatter yourself, Princess. Why do you think they’d set me up with someone like you? Prideful, judgmental women are definitely not my type. At least Ryanknows that.”

I clench my fist, trying my best not to punch him in his annoyingly handsome face. His presence in the elevator took me by shock, an unidentified feeling zapping through my stomach. He looks so handsome in his tailored navy-blue suit with a crisp white dress shirt. The suit fits him well, sculpting his broad shoulders and muscular arms.

He wears no tie, and his slight stubble makes him look extremely handsome and rugged. He looks more like a model than a CEO with his dark angelic eyes and tousled dark hair. He completed his outfit with polished black shoes and a stylish silver watch.

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