“The coffee’s here, and then we thought you might like to go to a certain member’s only gentleman’s club downtown. The company is really worth the money, if you get my drift,” Garth said, smiling dirtily at me, sending sparks of disgust across me.

“I’m not interested,” I told him tightly, pushing past him and striding down the corridor as fast as I could. My gaze turned toward the table she’s been sitting at. Its occupants were absorbed in deep conversation, and she was nowhere to be seen. She was gone. I’d missed her again, and now, my interest was only increased tenfold.

CHAPTER3

Cole

The next day started just the same as every single one since I’d moved to the West Coast. Life in New York had been routine in a way that had started to kill me a little, day by day. I was only a few months into this cross-country move before the truth was dawning. It wasn’t the city; it was me.

Wherever I was, the same problem resurfaced again and again. In L.A, I was working too much, sleeping too little, and finding my mind unable to stay occupied on subjects besides business. While it might be a good way to grow my income, it wasn’t really the recipe for a happy life.

That morning, after I’d met the fake Ella Clarke for the second time, I lay in bed for ten whole minutes after I woke and stared at the dark city beyond my window. I thought about the mystery woman’s smile when she bit into her burger and made that low groan in her throat that had turned me to stone. Did I appreciate anything in my day that much? I was sure I didn’t. When had I forgotten how to be happy about the small, simple things in life? When had I forgotten life was to be enjoyed, not survived?

Today, for the first time in years, I felt excited to go about my day. Today, I’d find out who my mystery woman was.

Pushing myself out of my bed, I started my routine. Dressed in workout clothes, I made my way to the impressive gym housed in my building. There were two. One for employees, and one for my personal use. Yes, that’s right. When I moved here, I bought one of the biggest hulking monoliths downtown and made it my office and home. I literally had no reason to leave the office ever again. The top two floors of my building were my penthouse apartment and gym, and then the rest was for office use. My personal office level sat on the twentieth floor, and was seldom frequented by anyone other than Melanie, other senior personnel, and the maintenance staff.

After working out, I headed for a shower, and ate a sparse breakfast. It was still early. I usually worked alone in my home office, instead of heading downstairs to the office levels, but today, my apartment felt too empty. My isolation seemed to echo and distracted me.

Maybe there was a limit a soul could take on loneliness, and after that point, it rejected the very notion.

In my office, I started my computers, there were five total on the desk, and entered my sophisticated facial recognition software. An email waited in my inbox with the footage from The Camelia. Melanie had come through, like always. I opened the files and was rewarded with the sight of my imposter’s beautiful face, captured in black and white.

I copied her image over to the software that had made me a billionaire under forty, and started the programme, leaning back and enjoying the way the sophisticated AI trawled through images on national databases and other publicly available information.

It only took a couple of hours for a face to pop up. A match. Looking up from my work, I turned my full attention to the image on my screen.

The green eyes, thick auburn lashes and a sprinkling of freckles across the ridge of her nose were plucked straight from my memories of last night.

Fake Ella Clarke smiled at me, wearing a cocktail dress, with her arm around no other than the real Ella Clarke.

Heiress Ella Clarke supports her artist friend at a private exhibition at The Collection, in Venice Beach.

My grin stretched across my face.

Gotcha, sweetheart.

CHAPTER4

Riley

“Iswear, I’m going to kill you. That’s it, it’s official, I’m retiring. Can’t believe I’ve lasted this long without being found out. It’s for the best,” I sighed, as I increased the incline of the treadmill at the gym the next day, Ella at my side. She continued at a leisurely pace, looking at her phone.

“Well, as sad as I am to be the case that broke the camel’s back, you’re right, it’s probably for the best. Who knew how long you could do that and not pick up a stalker, or someone crazy?”

“Yeah, a stalker like Cole Preston,” I muttered, flushing as I remembered the feeling of being stopped by him in the hall. I was pretty sure people weren’t supposed to feel so excited about being called a liar in public.

“But from the way you described him, maybe you wouldn’t be opposed to a stalker like him. Am I right?” Ella nudged me. “You practically had heart eyes as you described how he cornered you last night.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “I’m not forgiving you that easily, so stop it.” Yikes, was my momentary little crush on Cole Preston that obvious? Probably. Ella knew me better than anyone, and it was impossible to hide things from her. Had it been terrifying to be busted on my second date in two nights at The Camelia? Yes. Had it also been heart-thumpingly exciting? Absolutely. I’d suffered a sleepless night, as I’d tossed and turned, my mind lingering on the man who was hotter than anyone had a right to be.

Ella finished her walk and stopped the machine, gulping down water and leaning on one hand as she watched me.

“He sounded kind of interested in you.”

“He was just interested in knowing who lied to him. Men like him don’t like to be played. No, let me rephrase, no man likes to be played, but especially not men like him.”

Ella raised an eyebrow. “And men like him are…”