Page 4 of The Fake Dating Plan

A knock came on the door. Kira’s head popped in. “Mr. Heron is here to see—” she didn’t finish the sentence. Heron pushed her aside and burst into the office.

“I don’t need an introduction, not when I own the place. Hello Laura,” he said, marching past her to stand, arms akimbo in front of her, blocking her from me. “Give us the room, please.” He didn’t even bother to turn to look at her.

“We were in the middle of an important discussion?” I said to him. Laura raised her hands behind him and gave him two ‘fuck yous’ before walking away. I suppressed a laugh. At least I won’t be dealing with him for long.

“I was looking for you the whole day. Where were you?” This. This was one of the many reasons I wanted him out of my business and out of my life.

“I was out. Was there anything you wanted from me?”

He looked down at my desk and carelessly flipped around a few papers. I could feel myself burning with rage. I liked to have my desk neatly organized and this, this man comes along and just ruins it all. I don’t ask for much, all I ask for is some respect, and an organized desk. But I did not dare say all of that to him, much as I wanted to spit it out.

“No.” His gaze casually landed on me, undressing me as he did so. A chill ran down my spine.

“Don’t you have other businesses that are more pressing than our little necklace shop?”

He chuckled. He had once called Steel Cute a little necklace shop and I’ve never let him live it down. “All in good time. So where were you.”

“The manufacturers,” I lied. “I wanted them to cut down on the cost of raw materials. They agreed, so all is good.” That was what I had sent Laura to do and thankfully, she had negotiated a good price.

Heron nodded and looked down at my desk again. He picked up the puncher. He seemed to be in deep thought. Oh god. Oh, no. Did he suspect something? He had that ‘I smell fish’ look of his.

“And you never went anywhere else after that?”

Shit. I tried to sound as nonchalant as I could. “God, Heron, you sound like a jealous boyfriend. Now you’re going to tell me you have me followed.”

He dropped the puncher and moved across the desk. He walked so fast for his burly frame that I stood up in reaction. “I told you, you should call me Silvester. Or Sly, if you want. That’s what my girlfriends call me.”

He stood so close I could smell the raw meat on his breath. I could also see the lines in his face that were more distinct the closer he got. My gaze wandered upwards, only to be assaulted by his bad hair transplant. One would think a billionaire would afford better hair plugs. I guess it was just as bad for the rich as it was for the rest of us. I tried to look for a way to get out of the close space he had put me in, but his towering figure was obstructive.

“I’m not your girlfriend,” I said, gently nudging him away with no success.

“You could be. Think how less stressful your life would be if you and I were a thing.” A thing? What was he, a teenager?

“Don’t you have a wife? And kids, and the whole shebang?”

He stepped closer, and I stepped back and hit my heel against the chair. I tried not to wince. “I’m in the process of leaving her.” He had lowered his voice and seemed to think he was putting on some seductive act that was not working on me. I pushed him again. And again, he did not budge. Thankfully, Laura came in holding some papers. He stepped away when the door opened and I thought I saw disappointment on his face. I tried to hide the relief on mine.

“You need to sign these ASAP,” she said. I felt like kissing her in gratitude. “And there’s that meeting you need to attend, we’re all waiting for you.”

“Sure,” I said and took the papers. They were photocopy rejects she had no doubt fetched from the copier.

“Thanks for the reminder. Do you want to join us?” I said to Heron, “We’ll be discussing logistics for the upcoming fashion week.” Fashion and planning, two things Heron hated.

“Uh, no thanks. I wanted to drop by, see how all of you are doing.”

“Great, as you can see.” Laura could hardly keep her claws sheathed.

“Right.” He stepped back. “Nice. It was good to see you.”

I managed a smile. He went to the door and blew me a kiss. I held my tight smile. When he marched out, I let out a deep breath. “I could see you needed help. An advantage of glass walls,” Laura said.

“Thanks.”

“That fucker needs to go.”

“He’s always dangling a threat or a carrot, rather what he thinks is a carrot, over my head.”

“What did he want this time?”

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