The Billionaire's Fake Girlfriend - Part 2 (The Billionaire Saga) Read online

  “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” I cocked my head toward the stage. “I was drunk and vengeful, but now… Well, I don’t want to be spending the next few months with you if you’re stumbling around suffering from PTSD.”

  He didn’t register a word. I could almost feel the heat from his gaze as it traced a slow line from my collar bone up my throat to my lips. His eyes rested there for a moment before flashing back up to my face.

  “Sorry—what were you saying?” He shook his head and leaned closer to hear me over the noise. I flushed a little and stretched up on my toes, bringing my lips to his ear.

  “I said you’re off the hook. You don’t have to sing anything.”

  He leaned back and stared at me speculatively. I could almost see the desperate battle warring just behind those eyes. But after a moment, he flashed a faint grin and shook his head.

  “I proposed to you in front of the world.” The flashing lights made his look of remorse even more pronounced. “The least I can do is crucify myself in front of these people.”

  The waiter returned. Before I could say a word, Marcus ordered a fifth of Jack Daniels and two waters, slapping his money down on the counter.

  “Water?” I asked petulantly. Amanda was sure to be displeased.

  “Yeah,” Marcus said distractedly, eyes locked on the stage. “Rebecca, you realize the whole time we’ve been talking, you’ve been standing on somebody’s purse, right?”

  I looked down in surprise and quickly maneuvered myself back through the crowd to our table, clutching the waters as Marcus followed with the bottle.

  “Not what I had in mind…” Amanda frowned as she took a sip.

  “Trust me, I think we need it.” I glanced around at the increasingly raucous bar. “So do you know what you’re going to sing, or—”

  Our mouths dropped open in identical looks of shock as Marcus tilted his head back and downed half the bottle in one shot. He lowered it with a gasp but wouldn’t set it down, clutching it between white knuckles as he stared, panting, up at the stage.

  “Will that kill him?” Amanda whispered, eyeing the half empty bottle.

  “I don’t know,” I whispered back, “Google it.”

  She whipped out her phone as I gently tugged the whisky from his stubborn hands. No such luck. He shot me a sarcastic look and took another shot.

  “Marcus, seriously,” I was still half-slurring myself and wished I had a firmer platform on which to stand, “you don’t need to do this. I forgive you, okay? We’re in this together.” I playfully punched his shoulder. “I’m your fiancé and I’m going to stick by your side.” I held up my ring. “See this? It means I’m your partner now. Your pretend partner. So I’m here for you, baby.”

  He looked once more at the stage, tilting a bit with drunken tunnel vision, and took an automatic step back. But when he turned to me, his eyes were dead clear.

  “This is happening.” His voice dropped, and he stared down at the bottle. “I’d do a lot more for you, you know.”

  Amanda’s eyebrows shot up, and I bit my lip trying to clear my suddenly blushing face. “Well, in that case, I highly recommend Don’t Stop Believing by Journey. It’s a classic.”

  He held up a dismissive hand and snagged the bottle for a final shot.

  “Rebecca, I’ve lived this moment in nightmares since I was thirteen.” He turned to the stage with a look of dark determination. “I know what song to sing.”

  I kissed him.

  “I thought we said no kissing,” he said.

  I wrapped my arms around him and gazed into his eyes. “That was for luck.”

  He smiled. “Just luck, huh?”

  I grinned. “Yeah. Go get ‘em, Tiger.”

  With no further ado, he weaved his way through the crowd and stumbled up onto the stage. It was like he’d been called to the chopping block. Kneeling in stained sawdust and staring up at his executioners as we lowered the blade. But he smiled weakly when the crowd gave him their obligatory cheer and took the microphone from the stand.

  “This one goes out to my fiancée,” he said softly, locking eyes with mine. “The most beautiful, violent, terrifying, wonderful girl I’ve ever met. This is to our time together, Bex.”

  The crowd cheered again and a warm flush spread through my stomach, something that had nothing to do with the booze.

  He called me Bex.

  Then the lights went dark as a single spotlight shined down on the stage. A hush fell over the crowd. He stood in shadowed silhouette, the single beam of light making a dark halo around his curls. An electric guitar rang out three chords in the sudden silence and he lifted his hand.

  That’s when the magic happened…

  Crush a bit, little bit, roll it up, take a hit

  Feelin’ lit, feelin’ light, 2 AM summer night.

  Amanda turned to me in astonishment, but I shouldn’t have been surprised. Marcus could do everything else. Of course, he could sing. The crowd began to go wild as he closed his eyes and swayed his body slowly to the music. A single hand still lifted, pointing toward the sky.

  People told me slow my roll, I'm screaming out fuck that

  Imma do just what I want lookin’ ahead no turnin’ back

  If I fall if I die, know I lived it to the fullest

  If I fall if I die, know I lived and missed some bullets

  “This is unreal,” Amanda shrieked as she jumped to her feet with the rest of them.

  I stayed sitting, watching him with a small smile as he finally looked up and locked eyes with me through the crowd. He was suddenly so confident like something had transformed him. Something that neither he nor I expected. Maybe it was the music…

  I raised my hands with the rest of them and joined in as everyone shouted the chorus.

  There was some subtle dancing now up on stage. Even a few little body rolls as Marcus placed the microphone back in the holder and rocked his body back and forth against the stand.

  The crowd went nuts. Even I couldn’t help but laugh as he straddled the stand like a pro, keeping one finger pointed at me the whole time. I was impressed. The entire room was. Then, with the bewildering confidence of a rock star, he held up one finger for silence. The room quieted itself instantly as he grabbed the mic back off the stand and weaved his way slowly back through the crowd.

  The lights blacked out completely as the entire room erupted in applause. I felt his forehead pressed up against mine. His shirt was damp with sweat, and even though I couldn’t see his face in the dark, I’d swear he was smiling.

  “Rebecca—”

  “Shh,” I pressed a finger to his lips, “you were incredible.”

  His face shifted, and I felt him lean in. I could feel the heat coming off his body as his lips brushed softly against mine. Whether it was an accident or on purpose, I didn’t know. One hand snaked around my bare waist, and I caught my halting breath. Then the lights snapped back on, and he took a huge step back. He turned and raised his arms to the delight of the crowd, then laughed and tossed the microphone up to the next performer.

  I sat down abruptly in my chair. Whether it was the tequila or the sudden chills running up and down my skin, I didn’t think my legs would hold a second longer. Marcus slid down next to me, pressing his leg inadvertently against my own, and he turned his attention to the stage.

  Neither of us said anything. Not a single word. We just sat there, flushed and intertwined, and listened as a native Russian began an ear-splitting rendition of ‘I’m a Believer.’

  It was the perfect end to a perfect night.

  ***

  “Bex, we’re going to be late!”

  I jumped in my skin as Amanda pounded on the door to my bedroom. Pulsing, sweaty images faded from my mind as I leapt out of bed and shimmied into the white sundress she and I had picked out for the occasion the night before.

  Today was the day I was picking my mother up from the airport. Best to make a bit of an effort to win myself back into her
good graces.

  “I’m ready!” I declared a second later, pink-faced and breathless as I yanked open the door. She looked me up and down, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  “You just got up, didn’t you?”

  “No,” I said with a false frown, “why would you think that?”

  Her eyes rolled, and she spun me around toward the bathroom mirror. “Your dress is on backward. Honestly, Bex…” She tugged it the right way around and nodded at the finished effect. “It’s a good thing you don’t really have any breasts, or that would never work as often as it does.”

  “I have boobs,” I said. “Just not as much as you.”

  She laughed.

  My face fell as she simultaneously handed me some lip gloss and tossed me a pair of shoes. I put them on quick enough to be ready to catch the toast she threw the next second.

  “So…” Her face popped back into sight from the kitchen. “Are we going to talk about last night? Steamy club in Korea-town? Anything…a-ringing a bell?”

  There was a hitch in my breathing that I covered with an easy smile. “Nope. What’s it going to be today—car or bus?”

  “Bex, I’m serious. I’d never seen you two together before but…” She continued on carefully, “You can’t tell me there’s nothing there—it’s just not true.”

  I gave her a dismissive shrug. “So he was drunk, and we were drunk, and just because he can sing like a rock star, well, don’t read anything more into it than that.”

  “Yeah?” She put her hands on her hips. “What about when you two kissed last night right in front of me?”

  I ended up just shaking my head. “I don’t know, okay. He was drunk. I was drunk. And I happen to have a huge weakness for ‘The Pursuit of Happiness.’ Can we please just leave it at that?”

  “Fine.” She smiled innocently. “For now.” She held up a hand. “I thought you said kissing wasn’t on the table anymore. You said there would be no kissing and that you would be strictly professional.”

  “You know what tequila can do to you. I was under the influence. And Marcus is hot. How could I possibly stay away? He was out of that suit, in nice, normal clothes, and acting like one of us. I couldn’t resist. And we had this amazing connection.”

  “You know what? I would’ve fucked him on the beach in St. Tropez.”

  “Amanda!”

  “Well, I would’ve!”

  “Sex is not part of the deal!”

  “But foreplay is? These are very confusing rules.”

  I playfully slapped her.

  “You didn’t answer,” she laughed.

  “The kisses, they just happened. They weren’t supposed to. But he seduced me with his eyes.”

  “I thought it was the hot ass.”

  “Were you looking at his ass?”

  “Looked? Hell, I stared at his fine ass.”

  I laughed. “Okay, I can’t be late.”

  “Hey, I’m sorry I stared at your fiancé’s ass.”

  “He’s my fake fiancé, so don’t worry. You’re off the hook.”

  “What’s it like to kiss a billionaire? To kiss a man who owns a plane, a yacht, a huge mansion? A man who’s on magazine covers and newspapers?”

  “I didn’t think about any of that when I was kissing him. I just knew the kiss was magical. It just took my breath away. I’ve never been kissed like that! Not ever. Not even with my ex.”

  “Wow! That must’ve been some kiss.”

  “It was. No more kissing, though.”

  “You’ve got to go cold turkey. I know his kisses are addictive. But there should be no kisses when you’re fake dating.”

  “Agreed.”

  “You know his reputation, girl.”

  “You know he dated the hottest fashion model around?”

  “Madalina Diana Ghenea. I read that. He also dated Megan Fox, Kat Graham, and Kat Dennings.”

  “How can I even compete with that? If those girls couldn’t tame him, then how would I ever?”

  “He’s a free spirit. I bet he’s a bachelor until he’s forty. I just don’t want to see you get your heart broken. Just remember, this is a job, and nothing more. Now go bring home the bacon!”

  I laughed. “I’ve definitely earned my paycheck. And not in a hooker sort of way.”

  “Just pretend like you’re playing a big part in a movie. Act your little heart out. Then get paid. I really need to get me an acting gig like yours.”

  My mom would land in about an hour and fifteen minutes, which happened to give us just enough time to stop by my work first. I’d finally dipped into my “popsicle savings” and wanted to make a small donation to Mrs. Diaz’s funeral fund.

  But the second I hurried through the front doors and shot a cursory glance up at the bulletin board, I saw that it had already been paid.

  “What?”

  I spun back around in a confused circle but was instantly rescued as my supervisor, Lisa, came into view.

  “Oh, Becca!” She saw me at the same time and rushed over, a haphazard pile of files spilling awkwardly from her arms. “I’m glad I ran into you. So, I put you back on the schedule the day after tomorrow. Is that going to be too soon—”

  “What happened with Mrs. Diaz’s funeral?” I asked. “I was just coming to contribute, but I saw it was already taken care of?”

  Lisa faltered. “Well…yes. Marcus Taylor—I mean, your fiancé came by and paid it yesterday afternoon.” She looked confused, almost concerned that I didn’t already know.

  Marcus? The sudden image of him undoing another two buttons on his shirt to the delight of a bar full of Koreans flashed through my head, and I shook it quickly to clear it.

  “I’m sorry—what? How did he even set it up so quickly?”

  I had organized these things myself before. There was paperwork, screening, bank checks. They didn’t just get thrown together.

  Lisa sounded surprised. “Well, he’s already in our system. Marcus makes annual donations, and it’s the only way we were able to stay open when the economy crashed. His mother died here—spent her final weeks in the East Wing. He was here every day visiting her.”

  Several things clicked at once. Why he was at that coffee shop when his office wasn’t all that close by—it had become his favorite, just like mine. When he said he was familiar with the Westwood facility… It all made sense.

  “He didn’t tell you?” Lisa asked, frowning and confused.

  I shook my head slightly as I tried to reconcile this new piece of the puzzle.

  “No…he didn’t tell me.”

  “I’ve known him for years. He’s a good man inside and out. It’s admirable that he chooses to share his blessings. He deserves a big round of applause.”

  I smiled.

  “Don’t ever let him go,” she continued. “He’s one of the good guys. I’m always amazed how he gives huge sums to charities, scientific research, and other worthy causes each year without blinking an eye.”

  “He is amazing.”

  “I can see why he settled down with you. He wanted somebody who had a heart as big and compassionate as his.”

  “That’s so sweet,” I said, trying to keep a tear from slipping down my cheek.

  I’d already seen a different side of him through her eyes.

  ***

  There was no time to ponder the added layer of complexity my conversation with Lisa had revealed. My mother’s flight had landed early and she texted me that she would simply meet us at a restaurant in The Grove. When I told her the news, Amanda raised her eyebrows as she sped through lunchtime traffic.

  “That’s fancy for a ‘family meal.’ Thank goodness we wore dresses.”

  I was smiling before I could stop myself. Amanda had long since considered herself included in “family affairs.” It had been naturally assumed that she would attend this luncheon with me, and to be frank, I was grateful for the companionship. It would prove a helpful buffer when my mind was reeling with the events of the last twenty-fou
r hours.

  “Well, that’s my mom,” I smirked as I texted Marcus the change of address. “She wants to make a good impression on the new son-in-law.”

  Amanda chuckled. “I think she wants the son-in-law to pay.”

  I laughed.

  We pulled up a few minutes later, just as my mom and Marcus simultaneously entered the enclosed patio. The second she saw us, Sharon Wood bypassed me and Amanda completely and went straight in for a huge hug, barreling into Marcus with the speed of a freight train. He caught her bracingly and wrapped his arms tentatively around her back. Over her head, he mouthed a wary, Is this your mom? I stifled my laugh and nodded quickly. As they made the proper, friendly introductions, I turned discreetly to Amanda.

  “Well,” I murmured, “she’s certainly warmed to him, hasn’t she?”

  Amanda snorted. “That’s because she uncovered his net worth on the flight over.”

  I funneled my laughter into a delighted, “Hi, Mom!” as I joined their table.

  The meal was short but comical. The three of us were incredibly hung over, and at every second’s gap in the conversation, my mom would inquire again how soon Marcus and I were having kids. Marcus handled her with the grace that I had now come to expect from him, charming and delighting her as I knew he would.

  When it was time to leave, he reached for the check without a word and kissed her on the cheek as he led her out to the parking lot. I trailed along behind and gave her a goodbye hug as she slipped into the rental.

  “Well, Bex, he’s better than I could have imagined. I don’t think you could have done any better!”

  As I struggled to decide how to interpret this, I flashed her a small smile. “Thanks, I know. He’s really…” The image of him swaying his hips into the microphone stand made me suddenly loosen my collar. “Yeah, he’s really something.”

  We hugged again briefly as she dry-sobbed into my hair.

  “So, I haven’t even asked.” I took a step back as she started the engine. “How long will you be staying here, Mom?”