Page 6 of Fake Fiancée for Dad's Best Friend
I check their prices right away. “Fake girlfriend/boyfriend: $100 per hour. Fake fiancée/fiancé: $150 per hour. Fake wife/husband: $200 per hour. Terms and conditions: formal touching or kissing only.”
“Why the differences in prices?” I ask John.
He shrugs. “I have no idea. I guess the deeper the relationship, the harder it is pretend because it requires more getting to know you?”
I do a quick calculation. “So if I hired someone for a weekend, say, from Friday afternoon to Sunday Afternoon, forty-eight hours, I’ll have to pay at least five thousand dollars.”
“That’s a lot of money—to me,” John says. “But it’s not a problem for you.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head and skimming the webpage for more information.Professionals with training in acting. Reliable and responsible.“Sounds good. I’ll give them a call first thing tomorrow. Thanks, buddy, I owe you one!”
John shrugs. “No worries. The dinner takes care of it. So I don’t have to ask Annie?”
“No. to tell the truth. I don’t feel comfortable troubling you with that because it’s sort of a scam.”
I haven’t finished my sentence when I hear Vivian’s voice behind us. “I’ll do it!”
John and I turn simultaneously to look at her. “Do what?” John asks.
“I’ll be Alex’s pretend fiancée.”
John’s mouth falls open, and so does mine.
“Don’t be silly, sweetheart,” John admonishes. “You’re too young. Still a child. Nobody will believe it.”
“I’m not a child!” Vivian raises her chin indignantly. “I turned twenty-two last month, Dad!”
I agree silently. Even without knowing her age, she looks every inch a woman, a lovely woman. I want to say that to John but swallow back my thoughts when I see his face. He seems serious without a trace of a smile. John is a gentle fellow, but when it comes to his daughter, he’s fiercely protective.
So I say to Vivian instead, “Vivian, I appreciate your offer, but no, I need someone more mature to convince my mom.”
Vivian bites her lip and stands silently for a moment, and then says to me. “Fine. I won’t be your fiancée, but can I at least tag along? I’ve never been to California!”
My impulse is to welcome her, but John speaks before I do. “I don’t think so,” he says sternly. “You’ll be a third wheel.”
“But there won’t be a real couple,” Vivian argues. “So I won’t be a third wheel, will I?”
John glances at me, and I shrug. “Sure. It’s not a problem at all, Vivian. You can come along.”
I stay at John’s house until Lisa and their newborn baby are home.
I envy the bastard. He does better than me when it comes to tying the knot. Sure, I’ve got better luck with women, but most of them are attracted to my fame and money. None of them would stay with me in sickness and poverty. John married his high school sweetheart while in college. Even though that marriage didn’t last, he and Vivian’s mom had years of blissful life together. At age forty, he started another family with a fantastic woman. Lisa is ten years younger than John, sweet and beautiful. Their one-year-old baby Noah is adorable.
“Do you want to hold him?” Lisa asks me, obviously seeing my coveting expression.
I don’t have to be asked twice. I gingerly reach out for the cute little bundle and cradle it, making sure his head rests comfortably on my arm. Holy moly. I chuckle when the baby’s clear brown eyes fix on me curiously and warily. “Hi, Noah! Remember me? I’m Alex,” I whisper to him in a high-pitched voice I seldom use. When his face suddenly relaxes and turns into a smile, my heart melts.
I hold Noah until he frowns and shifts. Seeing Lisa’s worried look, I hand him back reluctantly. God. I would give anything to have a baby of my own. I’m a billionaire, but I don’t have what billions of poorer guys have: a family. The thought depresses me, but there isn’t much I can do about it. My poor mother must be desperate for grandchildren as well. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be taking such an extreme measure. I feel a twinge of guilt for my plan to deceive her, but again I can’t let her meddle with my life, especially over such a personal matter.
I say goodbye to John and walk to my car.
However, before I open my car door, I hear a voice calling me, “Alex, please wait!”
I turn and see Vivian running toward me.
My heart races at the sight of her. She’s showered and changed into a dress that hugs her feminine curves. Her slightly damp hair smells of coconut. My cock struggles to jump out of my pants, and I silently commend it to stay put.
“What is it, Vivian?” I ask when she stands next to me.
