Page 14 of Billionaire's Fake Plus One

She’s not wearing anything seductive: a baggy sweatshirt and tight leggings. But my heart rate spikes as I stare at her; those pants leave nothing to the imagination. The curve of her legs up to her tight ass are practically begging to be touched. And the way her hair is getting tossed in the breeze makes me imagine what I would like to do to really leave her hair a mess.

Fuck, now I need a cold shower. I turn my car to the detached garage and wonder how hard it will be to convince her to come to the wedding as my date. I promise myself it would be strictly professional. A transaction. I can keep my hands to myself if she can. Probably.

10

Daily Update Rachel! You have absolutely nothing to fear from Emma. You’ll always be my favorite blondie ??

Ihang around the steps of the front door, hesitantly. Should I run inside before Lucien walks out of the garage? Wait for him? Why am I even facing this indecision? I scowl at myself and spin around, jogging up the short steps and into the house.

“Your dad is home,” I announce as I enter the living room. As expected, the girls jump up and rush to the front door. It’s so cute that the girls always get so excited when he’s home. He’s such a good father. I wonder what their mom is like. She wasn’t in the picture two years ago, and neither the girls nor Lucien have mentioned her since I started working here.

Lucien walks in then with a twin in each arm. He gives me a short nod, and while I nod back, I wonder if we’ll ever discuss the elephant in the room. If we do, it’s certainly not tonight. Lucien is reserved and doesn’t say much during dinner. When we’re done eating, he takes the girls to their room for their nightly routine while I clear our plates.

Whenever he’s home, Lucien makes sure to read them a bedtime story and tuck them in. He really is a great father.

I’m staring out the kitchen window blankly when he walks back in. “Can we talk?” he asks and I startle a little, not expecting him to come back into the kitchen.

I turn to face him nervously. Are we going to finally have the talk? “Yeah. What’s up?”

He tilts his head to the door of his study, and I quietly follow him in. When I’m settled in one of the armchairs across his desk, he passes a typed letter to me. I raise my brow at him in question.

“Read it,” he says simply.

I do as he orders, my jaw dropping as I read the first sentence. I get more and more incredulous the more I read. He wants to take me to a destination wedding as his fake girlfriend. An associate of his is having a week-long wedding at Half Moon Bay, California, and I’m to pretend to be his loving girlfriend for the duration of the wedding.

Of course, I’ll only have to act lovestruck in public. We go back to our normal dynamic when we’re behind closed doors – as if I couldn’t figure that out!

I can’t hold back the gasp that escapes my lips when I see just how much he’s willing to pay for the week-long gig. If I decide to go back to work as a paralegal for two more years, I wouldn’t even make this much! With the money he’s proposing, I can clear off all the loans I had to take out for Mom’s treatments and have a little change left. I can decide to go to school if I want.

I go over the document one more time, trying to read between the lines. Am I missing something? Who would pay someone this much just to pretend to be their girlfriend for a week. I mean it’s not like the guy is ugly or anything. “What’s the catch?” I finally ask, lifting my head up from the document.

He raises a brow in surprise, “What do you mean?”

“I mean you could get a date or whatever if you want. Why do you want to pay someone to pretend to be your girlfriend?” Why me? I think, but I don’t ask the last question out loud.

He shrugs carelessly. “I don’t do relationships. I don’t want to invite someone who will become clingy because she thinks introducing her to my associates and the other people present at the event means something special.”

Wow. That’s just wow.

“Do you have any questions?” he asks, watching me closely.

“I just…this is a lot to take in.” I shake my head slowly, glancing down at the document in my hand again. Nope. Nothing has changed. Still the same words.

“Which part exactly is unclear? I can go over it with you.”

“No,” I say. “The document is pretty self-explanatory. You don’t need to go over anything with me.”

“Well, then. What’s the problem?”

“I just…I’m just wondering…” What the hell, I’m just going to ask, “Why me? You’re a billionaire. You can hire literally anyone else for this. An accomplished model. An actress. So, why me?”

He gets a funny look on his face, but as soon as it appears, it’s gone. His expression softens, and he purses his lips slightly as he contemplates. “After some serious considerations, I realized that you’re the best fit,” he finally admits.

“And what were the considerations? In what world would anyone believe we’re together.” I get to my feet slowly, deciding that fuck it, I’m just going to say it. “Have you forgotten what our first meeting was like? You essentially called me a gold digger!”

Lucien’s expression closes off, and he leans back in his high backed chair, tilting his head slightly to keep his gaze on mine. “I remember.” I throw my hands up in a “what gives” gesture.

“The girls who always hung around Zane were only after one thing. Money.” He sighs. “I usually have more tact than I displayed that night, but I was in a particularly bad mood, and I took it out on you.”

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