Page 22 of The Fake Affair

Last month, it was Harrison pointedly mentioning his daughter’s recent engagement during our quarterly review. The month before, Victoria’s comments about “settled leadership attracting long-term investors.” The message is always the same: A CEO with a stable personal life is a safer bet for investors.

Two years ago, I wouldn’t have cared. But Monarch Ventures is different. It’s not just another company in my portfolio—it’s my chance to build something meaningful, something that would have made my mother proud.

And now Victoria’s seen me with my hand up my assistant’s dress.

Bloody hell.

I check the time: ten forty-five p.m. It’s late, but the more I think about this, the more I realize that it can’t wait. The story about Edinburgh needs to be airtight before Monday’s meeting with Victoria before the board catches wind of this.

Bella’s apartment is on the fifth floor of a pre-war building in the West Village. Nice area, but the elevator’s ancient. As I ride up, I remember another elevator, just hours ago, and how soft her skin felt under my?—

No. Focus.

She opens the door wearing yoga pants and an oversized sweater, her hair damp from a shower. There is no trace of the red dress that started all this trouble.

“Logan?” Her eyes widen. “What are you?—”

“We need to talk.”

She hesitates for a second before stepping aside. As I pass her, the scent of her shampoo catches me off guard—clean, soft, familiar. I have no business knowing that it smells the same as it did the night we kissed all those years ago.

Her apartment is smaller than I expected. Intimate. Warm. Books overflow on every surface, like she couldn’t bear to put any away. A mug of tea sits abandoned on the coffee table, and a paused reality show glows on the TV. It looks warm, cozy, and bright. All the things that she is as well.

Bella takes a posture of defense, crossing her arms in front of her chest and tilting her chin slightly. “If this is about what happened with Victoria?—”

I can see that she’s about to panic, so I raise a hand and pause her mid-sentence so she can understand why I’m coming at this with all guns blazing.

“It is, and it can’t wait. The thing is, the board’s been pressuring me to settle down.”

She furrows her brows at me. “Yeah, you already mentioned that once. I don’t get why you can’t just tell them you need time. You’re not exactly… one to play by the book, are you?”

I’d be insulted if what she said wasn’t absolutely the truth. But what she doesn’t know is that I’m getting tired of the constant soft attacks on my image, the perpetual nudging that I need a “partner” to give off the image of a successful, fulfilled man. And the other truth is that up until Bella, I’ve never been interested enough to actually give the concept of dating, albeit fake dating, a try.

I start pacing, the tight circle of her living room suddenly feeling smaller than it should. “For the past year, they’ve been not-so-subtly suggesting that my... personal life... affects investor confidence. Especially now that we’re positioning for major expansion.”

She tilts her head. “Your personal life being…?”

“My apparent inability to maintain a stable relationship.” I stop pacing and turn to her. She’s watching me, perched on the arm of the couch now, one bare foot tucked under the other. Loose strands of damp hair frame her face. “The board, particularly the older members, they’re traditional and conservative. They want a CEO who projects reliability, stability?—”

“And instead, they got Edinburgh’s most eligible bachelor?” Her lips twitch.

I scowl back at her. “This isn’t funny, Bella.”

She watches me carefully. “It’s a little funny.” She curls up on her couch, looking maddeningly comfortable. “The great Logan Fraser, brought low by his own reputation.”

I should be annoyed. Instead, I find myself watching the way her fingers wrap around the edge of a throw pillow, the faint shimmer of moisture still clinging to her collarbone.

“A reputation you’re now part of, love.” My voice drops, and that wipes the smile from her face.

She knows what I mean. One elevator ride, one mistake, and she’s suddenly implicated in something far bigger than either of us planned.

“After Victoria’s discovery, we have two choices: either we admit to a tawdry office affair that could damage both our careers or...”

“Or we stick to your story about Edinburgh.” She’s quick. I’ve always admired that about her. “But why would that matter to the board?”

“Because a long-term relationship shows stability and maturity. If they believe we’ve been together for years, maintaining privacy while building our careers separately...” I trail off, waiting.

She puts the rest together in seconds. “Potential clients will see you differently.”

---