Page 51 of Billionaire Fake Fiancé Daddy

“Yes! It’s just so sexy the way he just...fixes that copier.” She bites her lip like she’s savoring the memory, and I laugh.

I’m happy for her.

But I’m also envious. Why can’t I have a simple, uncomplicated office crush?

Why the hell did I have to fall for Gage Crawford?

16

GAGE

It’s been a week since Violet called me on my bullshit, fucked my brains out, then told me we should just be friends, all within the span of a few hours.

I still haven’t quite figured out why the whole thing bothered me so much. I’m no stranger to the one-night stand. If Violet is good with us being a one-time thing, then so am I.

Absolutely. Completely. Fucking. Fine.

I step into the sports bar where Jaylen and I are meeting for our regular dinner. Tom had to cancel tonight because he’s out of town with his wife for a few days visiting her parents. It’s honestly kind of a relief that Tom’s not here. I don’t like keeping secrets from him, but I cannevertell Tom I had a one-night stand with his little sister.

The bar is dimly lit with a bunch of heavy wood tables and large-screen TVs playing various games and local news channels. I spot Jaylen already camped out in a booth where he can see every TV. He’s got a basket of untouched wings in front of him, and he’s typing something into his phone.

“Are you working?” I ask. Social media jobs sound fun until you realize that it basically requires always being on the clock.

“Just jotting down some ideas for tomorrow’s content. Did you see that last play?” He makes aneekface and shakes his head.

I steal a wing and take a bite. “These are terrible.”

“No, they’re normal. Not all of us have a personal chef.”

“I don’t have a personal chef. Anymore.” My last one quit a few months ago. His complaints included that I was never home for dinner on time, never hosted dinner parties, and was unnecessarily prejudiced against kale.

I haven’t gotten around to replacing him yet.

The waitress stops by, and I order us beers, burgers, and fries to wash down the terrible/normal wings.

“So,” I say, desperate to think about something that isn’t Violet, “What’s the stupidest thing someone said on sports social media this week?”

Jaylen groans and launches into a story so batshit insane that I actually get sucked in. Soon I’m clutching my sides and laughing.

“Does Crawford Industries have a job for me?” Jaylen deadpans. “Because I don’t think I can take this shit anymore.”

My smile fades as I think of the last time I hired someone I knew.

Jaylen grabs another wing. “Speaking of work stuff. How’s it going with your assistant slash fake-fiancée?”

I groan.

Jaylen laughs. “That good, huh?”

“I mean...It’s fine,” I say. “She’s avoiding me when we’re not at work. And she’s not making as many mistakes at work.”

Jaylen looks confused. “That’s good, right?”

I sigh, frustrated. “At least when Violet was ruining my life by being incompetent, I could yell at her about it. Now she’s ruining it by being competent and...practical. I live and work with the woman, and yet somehow, I never see her.” I press the heels of my hands against my eyes. “When I do see her, she’s taking over my kitchen and painting in those damn red panties. I’ve never known a woman who owns so many pairs of red underwear.”

Jaylen looks intrigued. “I always liked red.”

I jab a finger at him. “No. Don’t even think about it.”

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