The billionaire's (fake) fiancée

by Emma Quinn

  I nodded. “He did indeed. How’d you know?”

  She winked at me. “I heard him practicing in the bathroom before you got here.”

  I laughed, throwing my head back. It was startling even to me just how funny I found that. “He seems sweet on you,” I said after calming down. “I hope he doesn’t mind me borrowing you for a bit.”

  Rachel waved a hand dismissively. “He’s not sweet on me.”

  “He totally is.”

  “We grew up together,” she argued. “David’s like a brother to me.”

  “Oof,” I grunted. “Does he know that?”

  She simply rolled her eyes and looked out the window. “So, where are we meeting your family? You still haven’t told me.”

  “A little restaurant called La Royale.”

  Rachel looked at me with wide eyes. “No way. Don’t famous celebrities and stuff go there?”

  I pointed to my chest. “Do I not count as a celebrity?”

  “Oh, I guess you have a point.”

  “You can still back out, you know. You don’t have to do this.”

  “And leave you to fend yourself against a pack of wolves? I don’t think so.”

  “Aww, that’s sweet,” I hummed. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you actually cared.”

  Rachel shrugged her shoulders, loose curls of her hair bouncing as she did. “What can I say? I need you alive to sign off on my hours. And it’d be nice to torture your mother a bit.”

  I grinned. “Careful, Ellis. Keep talking like that and I may just fall for you.”

  She snorted, “You’d better not. That’s not a part of this deal. And if I don’t get an award for being the best personal assistant you’ve ever had, I’ll sue,” she teased.

  I smiled at her, impressed. “Girl after my own heart, I’m telling you.”

  8

  Rachel

  W

  e arrived at the restaurant fashionably late. I was fairly certain Peter gave our driver the wrong directions on purpose. His motivations were perfectly clear to me –he wanted all of his family to see us arriving together. It was also to make a statement. To arrive last meant that everybody else was waiting on him, the undisputable star of the Alance family. I was just supposed to be his arm candy. Judging by the flush in his cheeks when Peter first saw me at my apartment, I was going to do just fine impressing the rest of his relatives. He helped me get out of the car and tread toward the big double doors to the restaurant where a doorman was waiting eagerly to let us in.

  “Now remember,” Peter whispered in my ear, “we’ve been dating for less than a month. If they ask, I was the one who asked you out for a coffee. That way–”

  “That way, I don’t look like a gold digger,” I concluded. “I know. I’ve got this. Would you relax? You’re going to sweat right through your suit.”

  Peter sighed. “I am relaxed.”

  I laced my fingers with his and raised our hands together. “Then why are your palms so clammy?”

  “They’re, uh, naturally clammy?” He tried.

  “First of all, gross. Second of all, everything’s going to be fine. I took an acting course in college for fun. I can think on my feet if your relatives start interrogating me.”

  “I’m not worried for you, I’m worried for me. They’re more interested in seeing my wings melt because I’ve flown to close to the sun.”

  I frowned at him.

  “Icarus?” he said. “The Greek myth?”

  “I know who Icarus is.”

  We were shown to a private room in the back of the restaurant, booked off for only their most exclusive guests. The scent of freshly grilled meats and savory sauces wafted from the kitchen and settled in my nose. It was only then that I realized how truly hungry I was. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I would even step foot in a place like this. Even if I had to play the part of Peter’s girlfriend, at least I’d get to enjoy the finer things in life while we waited for things to blow over.

  I mentally kicked myself when I lay eyes on Peter’s extended family. They were all insanely beautiful, shimmering in their stupidly gorgeous suits and evening dresses. Gold dripped from absolutely everywhere. The women were all adorned in golden rings, golden bracelets, golden earrings, golden necklaces, and so on. If I was being perfectly honest, I felt seriously under dressed. It was like I’d stepped into an alternate reality where gold was an abundant resource, as common as air.

  The men were just as bedazzled, many of them sporting fancy cuff links of shimmering jewels and thick, fat rings around each of their fingers. They were all prim and proper, standing with their backs as straight and stiff as boards. The cloud of perfume I walked into was sickly sweet, burning the inside of my nostrils with scents that I couldn’t even begin to name or describe. Rich colognes and aftershaves mixed with delicate floral smells wafting off the ladies. I’d only been here two seconds, and my head was already spinning.

  A sudden wave of doubt washed over me. Could I do this? Could I really pull this off? God knew how badly I needed the money that Peter was offering. I’d easily be able to buy myself a new work computer to use at home. Maybe I’d finally be able to start up my own graphic design business with the extra income I’d be earning. But was it worth it? I was basically a pretty doll for Peter to drag around and flaunt in people’s faces. It didn’t feel right. I was so much more than an object to stare at and admire.

  A severe looking woman approached us both. Teresa looked significantly different because she was wearing a very rare smile. It seemed fragile, unpracticed. Maybe she was putting on a brave face in front of the rest of the Alance family. Teresa kissed Peter on the cheek and placed a hand on my upper arm. Her skin was colder than ice and more rigid than a steel pipe. I was fairly sure she was digging her sharp manicured nails into my flesh, but I forced a smile. I could tell by the worried look Peter was giving me that he was just as terrified as I was.

  Who knew that the great Peter Alance’s Achilles heel was his mother?

  “My darlings, welcome,” said Teresa, her words airy and warm. It was jarring to hear such a sweet tone come out of a woman like her. It just didn’t feel sincere.

  “Mother, you remember Rachel.”

  “Ah, yes, of course. The girlfriend.” Teresa gave my cheek a quick peck. “Welcome, welcome. Come on in. Everyone’s excited to meet you.”

  “They are?” I muttered under my breath.

  Teresa hooked her arm in the crook of my elbow and dragged me away. Much to my relief, Peter followed, likely to make sure I didn’t do or say anything to embarrass him. Teresa gestured with her hands to a line of young women. “This is Henriette, Lilianna, Evangeline, and the twins, Veronica and Natasha.” Before I could even get a word out to say hello, Teresa dragged me away to then introduce me to all of the Alance men. “This is William, Johnathan, Terrance, Alexander, and Vernon.”

  The last gentleman she mentioned chuckled. “And who might this fine young lady be?”

  Teresa waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, there’s no point in remembering her name. I bet you that this is just another fling for Peter.”

  The room fell silent. The tension in the air was so thick that it clung to my skin and weighed down on my shoulders, threatening to crush me into the floor. All of the heat in my body rose to my head and filled my cheeks. I had no idea what this woman’s problem was, but I felt nothing but pity for Peter. I’d hate to have a mother like this, one that was demeaning and living in a constant state of judgement.

  Peter broke the silence with an uneasy chuckle. He stepped forward and pried me away from his mother’s arms, slipping his own around my waist just as he did before in the office. “Everyone, this is Rachel Ellis. Rachel, this is my family.”

  I managed a dainty little wave. “Hello. It’s nice to meet everyone.”

  Peter turned and whispered to me, “Shall we sit?”

  I followed his lead, not really willing to take the chance of doing something and accidently insult
ing Teresa further. I was genuinely scared to use the wrong fork and offend her? Why were there even four different forks in front of me? Couldn’t I just use one like a normal person instead? And why were there three different glasses out on the table? One was for water, one was clearly for wine, but what about the third one? Over the course of the evening, I simply followed by example. When the ladies at the table placed cloth napkins on their lap, I did so, too. When they covered their mouths to speak, I did, too. The whole evening was exhausting thanks to this monkey see, monkey do routine I picked up out of necessity.

  Peter’s family talked about everything and nothing at the same time. I didn’t understand most of it. While the men talked quarterly earnings, the women spoke about the latest trends strutting down the walkways of New York Fashion Week.

  One of the women, Peter’s cousin twice removed, turned to me and asked, “What about you, Rachel? What do you think about Libianna’s spring collection?”

  I pressed my lips into a thin line and glanced to Peter for assistance. He cleared his throat and said, “Rachel’s not really into fashion.”

  One of the other girls, I couldn’t for the life of me remember her name, pressed her lips into a thin line. “Oh?” she said, unimpressed. “Well, what sorts of things are you into?”

  “The culinary arts,” I answered without skipping a beat.

  Peter looked downright impressed at my quick thinking. “That’s right.”

  On the other side of the table, Teresa failed to hide her eye roll. “So… you like cooking,” she put it plainly.

  “I think it’s very impressive,” countered Peter. “Tell me, Mother. Do you cook?”

  Oh, shit, I thought, suppressing the grin that wants to stretch out across my lips.

  “I don’t need to cook. I have private chefs for that.”

  I piped up, “If you’d like, I can invite you over some time and teach you a few tricks.”

  Teresa smiled, but there wasn’t anything genuinely happy about it. There was a challenge behind her eyes, every feature of her face dripping with condescension. “That’s quite alright, dear. I wouldn’t want to take up any space in your quaint apartment.”

  “Oh, it’s no trouble at all,” I hummed. “It’d be nice to spend some time with a nice down-to-earth woman like you.”

  Peter quietly choked on a sip of his red wine.

  Teresa didn’t falter, as calm and collected as ever. “Tell me dear, what is it that you do for a living?”

  I straightened my back. “I’m your son’s personal assistant,” I answered honestly. I knew she was trying to belittle me, but I wasn’t going to take the bait. “It’s an honor to work for Peter. You must be very proud to have raised such a brilliant young man.”

  “Oh, yes. I’m always proud of my son. He’s my pride and joy. Tell me, what is it your parents do?”

  I smiled politely, though my patience was wearing thin. My parents were a bit of a sore spot for me. I found it out how Teresa knew to bring them up in an attempt to shatter my defenses. “I don’t have parents,” I answered calmly. “They both died in a car accident when I was five.”

  Beside me, Peter shifted in his seat. He placed his hand on the back of mine to comfort me. I would have thought it was sweet had I not known it was all for show. “We don’t have to talk about this, Rachel.”

  Teresa gestured with her hands. “Oh, come now. If you’re serious about this girl, I’d like to get to know her. Tell me more, dear. If that’s okay with you, of course.”

  “I don’t mind at all,” I said, playing her game. “After they died, I was sent to live with my grandparents out of state. They’re dead, too. Old age.”

  Everybody at the table looked downright uncomfortable. Everybody except Teresa.

  “That’s such a shame,” she hummed. “And what happened after that? I assume you were placed in the foster care system, correct?”

  I watched Peter’s brows furrow ever so slightly before I replied, “Yes, that’s exactly correct.”

  “Must have been awful. I can’t imagine being raised in such a neglectful system. You came out rather pleasant, I must say.”

  “That’s very kind of you. But it actually wasn’t so bad. I met my best friend, David, through the system. We were taken in by the same family.”

  “That’s sweet. Isn’t this the same man you currently live with?”

  Peter’s jaw tensed. “You looked her up?” he hissed.

  Teresa didn’t look the least bit bothered. “Of course I did, dear. You can’t blame a mother for worrying, can you?”

  Peter rose from his seat and sighed. “Actually, Mother, I can. This is completely unacceptable.”

  “What’s unacceptable is that you’re slumming it with a girl like her.”

  The room became so distressingly quiet that I could hear clinking of forks on dishes in the kitchen on the other side of the restaurant. I sat there at the table, a little exhausted, but too proud to let my humiliation or anger bubble to the surface. Women like Teresa, the ones who thought they owned the world because they could afford to flash a little cash, just weren’t worth my time. Teresa had the leg up here. There was no telling what kind of dirt she managed to dig up on me. I swallowed down the hot bitterness that was climbing my throat and rose from my seat as well, making a show of threading my fingers with Peter’s. Teresa rolled her eyes and looked away.

  “Let’s get going,” Peter whispered in my ear.

  “Gladly,” I said, staring Teresa down. I was sure she was going to have a lot to talk about to the rest of her family the second I was out of earshot. She wasn’t exactly shy about being rude right to my face, so I could only imagine the things she’d say about me once I left. Before leaving the private dining area, I turned and smiled to every single member of the Alance family and said sweetly, “I hope you all enjoy the rest of your evening.”

  Peter led me out of the restaurant. I shivered against the cool evening air as we waited for our car to show up. While we waited, Peter shrugged off his blazer and draped it over my shoulders. The fabric was still warm from his body heat, and smelled of deep sandalwood and a bit of mint.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered to me. “I should have known Mother would try and make a scene.”

  I let out a shaky sigh, unable to keep my feelings locked away. The sting of tears began to well up in my eyes, threatening to overflow and streak my cheeks. “No offense,” I said while sniffling, “but your mother’s a bitch.”

  Peter chuckled, looking down at me with more warmth in his eyes than I’d ever seen before. “I wholeheartedly agree with you there.”

  I wiped at my eyes with the back of my hands, more than aware of how runny my nose was becoming. I always thought that I’d end up crying in front of my boss because he’d been yelling at me, not because I’d just been humiliated by his mother in front of some of the world’s wealthiest and most influential people.

  Just as I was about to break out into full on sobs, Peter surprised me by placing his hands on my shoulders. His touch was gentle, like he was handling rare and delicate crystals. “I suppose there’s no point in asking if you’re alright,” he mumbled.

  I shook my head, a weak and breathy laugh escaping my lungs. “No. And to add to everything, I’m cold and hungry.”

  “Yes, it’s a shame we didn’t even get to dinner. Shall we go grab a bite to eat somewhere else?”

  I shook my head again. “No, I think I’d rather go home. If that’s okay.”

  Peter stared at me for a moment. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking behind those big, dark eyes of his. For a second, I thought he looked concerned. Then he said, “We’ll drop you off first, then.”

  I nodded, thankful that the night was over before it had even begun.

  9

  David

  “ W

  hat happened?” I demanded, rising from the couch. I’d spent the greater part of the evening watching Friends episodes on Netflix. On screen, Joey had his head stuck in
Monica and Chandler’s apartment door. But I could no longer pay attention to their shenanigans and the horrid laugh track.

  I was glad that she came home before midnight, but I could tell something was off. I’d known Rachel for a long time. She was a proud woman, and just as stubborn. Growing up, she was always looking out for me. Not once did I ever see her cry. So I was understandably concerned when I happened to notice her eyes were all red and puffy as she entered the apartment, clearly exhausted and distressed.

  “It’s nothing,” she mumbled, sweeping right past me.

  I managed to stand in her way, blocking her from moving any further. “Don’t lie to me, Ray. Did that bastard hurt you? Tell me what happened.”

  A man standing at our doorway cleared his throat. I looked up and felt the blood in my body boil over. Peter was standing there, his jacket slung over his forearm. I hated looking at the guy. There was just this air about him, something in the way that he walked that screamed I’m better than you. The gold Rolex he had around his wrist could easily pay my half of the rent for the rest of the year. Just looking at Peter’s face forced me to suffer a tick of annoyance.

  “What did you do to her?” I snapped. “Didn’t I say I’d end you?”

  “Would you relax?” Peter sighed. “It wasn’t me.”

  Rachel patted me on the chest, wiping at her eyes immediately after. She forced a big smile, but it was stiff and heartbreaking to look at. “It’s fine, it’s fine. His family’s just… They’re a lot.”

  I bit my lower lip in thought. I didn’t really know what else to say. Out of the corner of my eye, I happened to notice Peter pulling out some money from his leather wallet. “The fuck is that for?” I hissed at him.

  “She hasn’t eaten yet,” he explained simply. “Be a dear and buy her something to eat.”

  “We don’t need your money. I’ll make her something.”

  “I’m not hungry,” insisted Rachel. “Please, Peter, don’t worry about it. I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”