The Billionaire's Fake Girlfriend - Part 2 (The Billionaire Saga) Page 3

  I was temporarily devastated when she left, but six months later, she returned with a different diagnoses. Dementia.

  This stay was decidedly different from the first. Some days would be just like the old times; she’d ask after my mother and threaten to lock herself in the shower if I didn’t bring her Oreos and Chinese. Some days, I’d walk inside and she’d have no idea who I was. Her body was in fine shape, but her mind was deteriorating quickly, leaving her family with few options but to check her into our facility to protect her for the remainder of her time. And while it was the right move for Mrs. Diaz, it left her family on the verge of medical bankruptcy. They would not be able to afford the service she deserved. They would hardly be able to afford a service at all.

  I quickly wiped my face and pushed to my feet, hurrying back down the hall before anyone else could stop me and ask if I was okay. I was most decidedly not okay.

  The only bit of luck I had that day was that I was able to keep myself from crying until I made it back to the apartment. The second I was inside, I dropped my purse on the floor and flew down the hall, collapsing on my bed and pressing a pillow to my face to stifle the sobs.

  I knew it was selfish, I knew it went against the very nature of my profession, but I wasn’t ready to let Mrs. Diaz go yet. There were more things I wanted to share with her, more good days she needed to have. Her daughter was supposed to visit last month, but had canceled at the last minute because her child was ill. She was going to come this month instead…

  Another set of sobs shook my entire body, and I curled my knees up around the pillow. I barely heard the soft footsteps that headed down the hall, and when my door pushed open, I assumed it was Amanda. It wasn’t until I caught the telltale whiff of sandalwood that I knew I’d gotten it wrong.

  “Rebecca,” he said.

  “Hi, Marcus.”

  “Some guy named Barry let me in. He said Amanda ran to the store.”

  “That’s my roommate’s boyfriend. Come on in.”

  I didn’t care that he was the epicenter of all my anger. When he sat next to me on the bed, I climbed up onto his lap and buried my head in his chest.

  One hand wrapped around my back as another gently stroked my hair. There was no tension or rush. He stayed there with me like that until I finally lifted my head and looked up.

  A kind smile was staring back at me. And a pair of ocean-gray eyes.

  “Are you okay?” he murmured softly, wiping the remaining tears from my cheeks.

  “I didn’t know you’d be this upset over the fake engagement.”

  “It’s not that.”

  “Then what?”

  My face crumbled and I shook my head. “A patient of mine died today. She was the first patient I ever had. If I’d gotten there an hour sooner, I could have said goodbye…”

  My voice cut off again, and I collapsed back into him in a fit of tears.

  “Oh, Rebecca,” he breathed, holding me tight against him as he rocked us both back and forth. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

  I shuddered and gripped the back of his shirt even tighter. “Her family c-can’t even pay for a funeral. I can’t imagine—”

  “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay,” he soothed. “Just breathe.”

  Taking his advice, I tried to even my choppy breathing, counting each one out and timing them with his. After a few minutes, I finally was able to calm down. But neither one of us moved. We stayed there, wrapped tightly in each other’s arms, ignoring all the reasons we should be kept apart—if only for a moment.

  Finally, I shifted around and sat up so I could look him in the face. I wiped my cheeks and flushed with embarrassment, but he squeezed my hand and smiled without shame.

  “Thanks for letting me leave without a fight,” I said softly, my throat thick from crying.

  “You weren’t my prisoner. If you were mad and wanted to leave, then that was your choice.”

  “You don’t have to pay me. I know I broke our verbal contract. I was supposed to stay until Sunday.”

  “You said yes to my marriage proposal. You did the job flawlessly. So what if you left a day early. I plan to pay you in full.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “That means so much to me. I really need the money to pay off all the credit debt I’ve racked up.”

  “How did you make it through takeoff?” he continued curiously.

  “I lay, prone, on the floor of the cabin. It actually wasn’t so bad. But your stewardess thinks I’m a narcoleptic.”

  He dropped his head and chuckled silently before those eyes flashed back to mine.

  “You look nice,” I said.

  “Thank you.” He smiled too, but it faded the longer he stared at me. “I came here…expecting a fight. I didn’t think…”

  I shrugged helplessly, and his face grew suddenly serious.

  “Rebecca, I didn’t know how to tell you. Takahari set up a meeting, but he needs more time—I need more time.” His eyes dropped down to the comforter. “I didn’t think you’d say yes, and I didn’t know what to do. I panicked.”

  I shook my head and glanced out the window. “Marcus, I don’t want to fight.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He squeezed my hand and I looked back at him. There was a vulnerability to his face I’d never seen before. A need for forgiveness. From a man who didn’t need anything.

  “I’ve never been sorrier for anything,” he murmured. “I didn’t want to ruin your future moments for the sake of my own. I never wanted to hurt you at all. Please…know that.”

  I probably should have rallied a bit longer. It was a public proposal, after all. I should’ve finished the weekend. But I was exhausted and drained. I needed a friend, not a fight. And the truth was…I did know he was sorry. I knew he would never do anything to intentionally hurt me.

  “It’s okay,” I heard myself saying.

  And I guessed it was. It was in the past. Time to move on.

  Marcus’ eyebrows shot up, giving him an adorable look of surprise. “Okay?” he repeated in disbelief. “This coming from the girl who Maced me?”

  “What? It’s really that hard to believe I can be merciful? I do work in the nursing field.”

  He laughed shortly. “No, it’s just…I’m surprised. I thought there was no way you would ever be okay with this, especially after…” His voice trailed off at my blank stare and he backpedaled quickly. “Did you happen to get up this morning and go straight to work, without really watching the news or reading the paper?”

  That same eerie chill ran all the way up my spine. “You didn’t think I’d be okay with this after…what, Marcus?”

  It looked like he wanted to stall, but knew he was out of options. With a look of dread, he climbed off the bed and led me back to the kitchen where a copy of today’s paper was laid out on the counter. My jaw dropped open in horror as I stared at the headline.

  How a Nursing Assistant Tamed a Billionaire

  I backed away from the counter as if it had caught fire. “Oh my…oh my gosh.” My voice was low and kept catching in my throat. “Everyone thinks I’m really getting married to you. This is like headline news. I thought this might hit the local paper, but it’s everywhere. I wonder if my family has seen this yet.”

  “It’s gone viral.”

  My jaw dropped.

  “It’s okay,” Marcus held up his hands, trying to calm me down, “I can fix this.”

  My head started shaking very quickly back and forth. “This means everyone’s seen it.”

  “Rebecca,” he pleaded, “this is not beyond repair. I have people who can take care of this…somehow. Let’s just sit down and think about it rationally.”

  “And if everyone’s seen it…that means…”

  In a flash, I darted to the sofa and snatched up my phone. The one missed call from my mom had multiplied into forty-four since I’d tossed it on the sofa that morning and left for work.

  For a second, everything was quiet.r />
  And then, even as I looked at it…the phone began to ring.

  Chapter 4

  “Are you going to answer that?” Marcus finally asked after the fifth ring.

  “No,” I whispered, eyeing the phone like at any moment it might explode. “No, maybe if we just ignore it…it will go away.”

  There was a moment of silence as the call ended. Flashing each other quick looks, we both leaned hesitantly over the table, peering down at the innocuous little device.

  A shrill ring made us jump back again.

  “Shit!” I cursed, snapping off the volume and throwing it back down on the couch. With any luck, it would give up and die somewhere between the cushions. A defiant muffled vibrating told me I was wrong.

  Ever the problem-solver, Marcus stepped forward. “Okay,” he said calmly, “here’s what we’re going to do—”

  “No—I’ll tell you what we’re going to do,” I interrupted in a desperate bid to grasp whatever was left of my dwindling control of the situation.

  He paused politely and my mind scrambled as I began pacing.

  What were we going to do?

  I could not tell my mother—that much was certain. Aside from Amanda, she was the only other person I loved in this world, and I was absolutely not going to disappoint her like this. I didn’t care if it meant actually walking down an aisle and marrying the handsome bastard. I could not tell her that this was all just a lie. Or worse yet—a business arrangement. The thought of exchanging fake romance for money would make her stomach turn. My mom had always been a sucker for love stories—the sappier, the better. If she knew that I had fabricated one in front of the whole world just to catch up on some back rent…I honestly thought she might disown me.

  Then again, if I didn’t pick up that phone in a hurry, she might disown me anyway.

  “Okay,” I said again, “here’s what we’re going to do: we’re going to go through with it.”

  Every muscle in Marcus’ handsome face froze. “You want to get married?”

  “No, gosh—no!” I shuddered at the thought.

  I had never planned on getting married. Never really planned on having kids or falling in love. I’d always imagined my life as that of a nomadic movie star. A sultry ingenue with a series of passionate affairs that would last me into my late seventies, at which point I would retire to life on an island with a bunch of hot men at my beck and call.

  Granted, it was a tentative plan…but a plan nonetheless.

  “No,” I said again, pacing divots into the floor, “I want to keep up the illusion. You said it yourself: this is a business arrangement, right? Why can’t we both get what we want?”

  Marcus nodded slowly. “Yes…”

  “Do you still need to impress Mr. Takahari?”

  “Yes, he hasn’t signed on yet. But he’s close.”

  “Then we keep up the charade,” I said again, more firmly this time. “My mother is the only family I have left in this world, and I’m absolutely not going to disappoint her like this. We’ll kill two birds with one stone. Carry on the relationship—engagement, whatever—for a month or so until Takahari is definitely on board, and in the meantime, keep up pretenses for my friends and family.”

  Marcus nodded mildly, taking an unfamiliar backseat position. “And…my friends and family?” He reached out to catch me, but I paced even faster—half-ignoring, half-dismissing—as my devious plan settled into place.

  “You made your bed; now you have to lie in it,” I said. “But don’t worry. This won’t be long. I promise.”

  He opened his mouth to say something but wisely thought better of it, sitting down instead on a stool by the counter with a slightly bemused look on his face.

  I was desperately trying to keep in control, but my eyes kept flitting back to our picture under a national news headline. When my phone buzzed angrily again from the couch, I brought my fists up to my temples and closed my eyes.

  “It’ll be fine,” I muttered quietly, trying to steady myself. “After a month or so…we’ll just say that it fizzled out. I’ll give you back the ring, and we’ll go our separate ways. Nothing flashy or newsworthy—we’ll part as friends.”

  He stepped into my line of vision and leaned his head down to catch my eye. “I say we put this plan into motion.” His shoulders loosened a bit, and he even dared to go out on a limb and flash that signature, charming smile.

  I couldn’t believe he’d put me in this position. My eyes flew suddenly around the room. “Wait—do you still have the ring? I left it on the desk with the necklace.”

  His face was unreadable as he reached into his pocket and held out an open hand, a massive diamond sparkling in the center. I examined it briefly.

  “Good.”

  Romance be damned.

  I snatched it up and shoved it onto my finger. It felt awkward there. It was the “scary” finger I never put a ring on, no matter what it was. And this was a doozy. Too much weight, and I felt certain the oversize gem was sure to catch on something.

  Marcus studied my face, a strange, anxious emotion dancing behind his eyes. “Do you…like it?”

  I ran my hands back tiredly through my hair and winced as the rock caught on one of my curls. “It’s beautiful. I couldn’t stop staring at it when you slid it on my finger that night. You have great taste, Marcus.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It’s bigger than what I would’ve personally liked. But it’s absolutely lovely.”

  Again, he looked like he was about to say something, but instead, he merely dropped his head, tugging absentmindedly on the stool’s cushion. The phone buzzed again, and a spasm rocketed up my spine.

  “I need to get that,” I muttered helplessly, keeping a safe distance from behind the kitchen counter. “It’s my mom.”

  We both stayed frozen as it buzzed twice more, then stopped.

  Our heads whirled toward the front door as Amanda’s disembodied voice floated up from the outer hall.

  “I wake up naked, in the bed of a man. Extract myself from having the greatest sex ever to recharge with a little coffee. Spot the newspaper lying on the counter, and low and behold, what do I find…?”

  Her voice trailed off in shock as she pushed open the front door and saw Marcus standing beside me. For a moment, she flushed. Then she gestured to us as if it was all part of her plan.

  “The happy couple.”

  There was a beat of silence. We all three looked different directions, trying to come up with something to say. I looked at the phone; Amanda looked at her nails. Deevus yowled pitifully for attention and collapsed in the middle of our awkward triangle.

  Then Marcus rushed suddenly forward, bending over backward to play as nice as humanly possible. “You must be Amanda—it’s a real pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Marcus Taylor.” He offered a hand.

  Still shaken, Amanda lifted her hand, but suddenly hesitated, glancing instead in my direction. “Are we…happy about this?” she looked around. “Hey, where’s Barry.”

  “He let Markus in, but then I didn’t see him when I got up.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he’ll be back. I’ll text him.” She looked at Marcus. “Do you…uh…do you want a cup of coffee?”

  “No, thank you.”

  I’d finally plucked up the courage to dial my mother. The line on the other end tolled ominously with each unanswered ring. I’d ignored my mom. Now my mom was going to make me work for it. I hung up and called again.

  My mouth went dry and my face went pale as the phone line opened. It was the literal calm before the storm. The only sound on both ends was each of our tense breathing.

  My eyelids snapped shut as I weighed my options. I knew I’d get to say about one sentence before she really let me have it. “Hi, Mom! So you’ll never guess what happened?”

  Sure enough, she was off.

  “Do-not-hey-mom-me-I-know-exactly-what-you’ve-been-up-to-you-little-Judas-because-I-read-about-it-in-the-papers-and-if-you-think—”
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br />   Amanda instantly forgot her coffee amends and sank down with me on the couch, holding my hand and listening in silence as I held the phone between us.

  It took awhile, and it wasn’t pretty. We flinched at all the same times. And during the whole rampage, all I could think was—this fucking, gorgeous billionaire got me into this mess by doing the most romantic, charming, wonderful thing in the world. Halfway through, I looked up into those spellbinding eyes and he touched my arm as if offering me encouragement.

  “Okay, Mom,” I said after a ten-minute rant. “I love you too, and I’m excited to see you. I can’t wait for you to meet…Marcus.”

  “Did you forget his name?” Amanda mouthed accusingly.

  I shook my head and smacked her as my mother hung up in a huff. She had been only partially appeased by the fact that my “intended” was a beautiful philanthropist with more money than Donald Trump. That still left plenty of room for vitriol and shrill-screaming betrayal. I could tell from the fading jingling of a dog bell that Mugsy—her little Pekingese—had run for cover. According to Mother, neglecting to tell her I was dating someone until we got engaged was an oversight of Titanic proportions. I’d tried to counter by going the “it all happened really fast—we haven’t known each other all that long” route, but to be fair, even I don’t know why I’d thought that might work any better. She was flying down first thing tomorrow morning, she’d said. That is, unless I just wanted to marry him first and introduce her afterward.

  When it was over, I set the phone down on the coffee table with a grimace. Amanda bit her lip and stared at the excuses she’d been rapidly scribbling on a piece of binder paper, jabbing them with a pencil for me to interject. I’d done my best, but things like “I was just as surprised as you are” didn’t sound quite as convincing in the cold light of day. Not to mention…they struck a little too close to home.