Page 12 of The Billionaire and the Maid

Chase’s worried face hovers over me. It takes a second to realize he’s holding a cold, wet cloth to my face.

“Hey,” he says, his deep voice laced with concern.

“Did I…” I trail off as I try to remember what happened. I blink up at him as he stares down at me.

“You passed out,” Chase explains, pulling back the cloth.

I start to sit up but sway. Chase wraps an arm around me and leans me back against the sofa where I’m apparently lying.

“Easy,” he murmurs.

“I…I’m so sorry,” I whisper as I remember what had just happened.

Chase sighs and sits down next to me.

“What if I don’t tell? What if…you do me a favor and I’ll get a replica made. There’s a matching one in that cabinet over there. Mom will never notice it’s missing,” he says as he motions to a china cabinet in the far corner of the sitting room.

I sit up a little and eye him suspiciously. Did he just say “favor”?

“W-what?” I manage as I suddenly feel very awake.

“I need…a fake girlfriend,” he states as if that’s some normal request. Like, can you iron my pants or deep clean the rugs in my apartment?

“I’m sorry, what?” I ask in confusion, wondering if I misheard him due to some minor concussion I received from my fainting spell.

He clears his throat. “You know the holiday ball, right?”

I nod. Does this man think I live under a bridge with no concept of the world around me?

“Well, my father’s announcing that I’m taking over the company at it and then the board makes an official vote the following week,” he starts.

“I’m not following,” I say as I try to make sense of his words.

“My father is…old fashioned. He also thinks I’m…not very serious about anything,” he tries to explain, only his words are causing me more confusion.

“So, you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?” I ask, each word coming out slower than the last.

“Just until the board votes,” he confirms.

I frown. “But your mother’s seen me. She’ll know that I’m the maid,” I state as if the problem of who I am and what I do is obvious. Why would Chase Marino date his maid publicly?

He rolls his eyes. “I guarantee my mother wouldn’t recognize you in a lineup.” He slowly reaches out and pulls my hair out of the tight bun that I keep it in. It falls over my shoulders.

“There,” he says as he looks down at me. “I can have some clothes sent over. If you put on a little makeup and leave your hair down, she won’t notice.”

I give him a pointed look. “Your staff will.” What in the Hannah Montana nonsense is going on here?

He purses his lips. “Tell them we met on Main Street somewhere, and I don’t know that you clean homes, so please don’t say anything. And if that doesn’t work, then I’ll buy their silence,” he offers.

I stare at him dumbfounded.

“And if I don’t agree?” I ask.

“Then, I’ll tell my mother and your boss. That’s an expensive vase to have to replace,” he says coolly.

It’s official. I want to murder him. “Is that a threat?” I whisper-yell, starting to feel more angry than upset.

Shrugging, he leans forward and gives me a sly grin. “Please do me this favor. It’s only for a month. It’ll be a few dinners, the gala, maybe a lunch, and then you never have to see me again.”

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