The billionaire's (fake) fiancée

by Emma Quinn

  “I’m so sorry,” I immediately apologized, fearing a lawsuit was waiting for me. It was hard to tell with these rich types.

  The woman giggled. She sounded incredibly young. “That’s okay. I’m a bit lost. Do you work here?”

  I nodded. “Yes, I do.”

  Relief brightened her dazzling green eyes. “Oh, thank goodness. Can you point me in the direction of Peter Alance’s office?”

  I thought that was a bit weird. Peter wasn’t scheduled to meet with anyone, not even one of his women. As of late, he’d been focusing on putting together another merger deal and had been spending more and more time at the office. I was fairly certain his last social visit was over a month ago. Nevertheless, I gestured to the big glass doors at the end of the hall. “He’s right over here. You can follow me.”

  The girl clapped her hands together giddily. “Oh, thank you, thank you.”

  I knocked on the glass and opened the door, taking a step inside to see Peter grabbing his coat and wallet. He’d apparently been expecting me, because he started to speak, “All ready? I was thinking we could visit this new Korean barbeque place after the–” Peter looked up to see the woman behind me and froze, words dying on his tongue. The color drained from his face as the rest of his body stiffened, almost as if someone had dunked a bucket of ice water over his head.

  The girl squealed and rushed past me, throwing her arms around his neck. “Petey!”

  “A-Anastasia?” he stuttered. I’d never heard him so taken aback before. “W-what are you doing here? How–”

  “Your mom invited me to stay for the week!” she giggled.

  “Weren’t you in China for the–”

  “For the fashion shoot? Yes, I was. I just finished. I’ll show you the spreads when they send them to me. They had me modeling their latest lingerie collection. Can you believe it?”

  I set my jaw as heat pooled in my cheeks. There was a burning sensation in my chest, but I couldn’t tell if it was annoyance, genuine anger, or heartburn. Maybe it was a combination of all three. So this was Anastasia. I supposed in the grand scheme of things, I didn’t really care. This was Peter’s mess to deal with, not mine. But that didn’t explain why a twist of jealousy was digging itself into the pit of my stomach, making everything seem more bitter than it really was. Peter glanced over at me like I’d just caught him in the act of stealing something important, mouth agape slightly in shock.

  He placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her away, regaining a healthy standing distance. “You said Mother sent you?”

  This didn’t deter Anastasia, who was already moving in to embrace him again. She nuzzled up to him, clinging to him like a koala. “Yes! Isn’t it wonderful? It’s been so long since we got to hang out.”

  “That’s not–”

  “I was thinking we could get dinner together tonight. Maybe grab a few drinks?” She twisted his tie around her finger. “We have a lot of catching up to do.”

  “Anastasia, I’m not–”

  I cleared my throat. “Would you kindly get your hands off my boyfriend?”

  Peter and Anastasia looked at me in stunned silence.

  “Pardon me?” she asked sweetly. I didn’t think she was doing this to be malicious. Maybe she genuinely couldn’t read the uninterested vibes Peter was giving.

  I walked forward and took my place beside him, slipping my arm behind him. “Peter and I have been dating for a couple of months now,” I explained.

  Anastasia took a step back and covered her mouth in horror. I was fairly certain she was being genuine in her reaction. “I’m so sorry. When Teresa called me, she said– You know what? Never mind.” She broke out into an awkward little smile and stuck her hand out to shake. “Can we just start over? I’m Anastasia De Clare.”

  I shook her hand. I had a feeling she wasn’t as bad as my first impressions led me to believe. “Rachel Ellis,” I introduced.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” she giggled sheepishly. “I think I’m just going to go. I’ll maybe see you two around?”

  Peter piped up, words heavy and uncertain, “Yeah. Maybe.”

  She gave us a cute little wave before disappearing out of the office. It was only then that I realized Peter had an arm around me, holding me close in the crook of his strong arm. He smelled delightful, the same sandalwood and mint combination filling my nose. I could feel his body heat radiating off of him, soaking into my skin. I couldn’t help but notice the way his touch lingered, a little too long to be just friendly, but too short for me to really read into things. Peter finally took a step away.

  “I’m sorry about that,” he said.

  “It’s okay. I like her. She seems nice. I guess your mother’s up to things again.”

  He sighed in frustration. “I have a feeling talking to her about things isn’t going to help. Now that Anastasia’s here, expect for Mother to walk in soon demanding I see her.”

  “I’ll make a note in my agenda for you.”

  “Ha ha,” he mumbled dryly. “You’re hilarious.”

  “It’s a part of my charm.” I offered him a small smile. “I’m sorry you have to go through with this. Maybe you should just marry the woman and get it over with. If you’re engaged, at least your mother will stop bothering you.”

  Peter stared at me like I just spoke in Latin. There was a glimmer in his dark eyes, something inspirational. “That’s it!” he exclaimed.

  “What?”

  “Marry me.”

  My head was seconds away from exploding. “W-what??”

  12

  Peter

  “ I

  t’s all for show,” I assured her. “Just slip a ring on your finger and I’ll start introducing you to everyone as my fiancée. That’s bound to get my mother to shut up. If we go public and it’s common knowledge amongst my peers that I’m finally settling down, Mother will just look bitter and shallow if she openly disapproves. She’ll have no choice but to leave me alone, or risk losing face. It’s perfect.”

  Rachel held her index finger up like she was saying wait one hot second. “This is getting really ridiculous,” she pointed out. I couldn’t blame her for being skeptical, but I was really at wit’s end with Mother. She was shameless, and I had a feeling she wouldn’t stop until things finally went her way.

  “I will quadruple your salary.”

  “Hell, no.”

  “It’s just a fake engagement. You don’t have to sign any official papers or anything like that. Well, maybe an NDA. But think about it for a second. You’d be doing me a serious favor.”

  “And in return?”

  “You’d be making a whole lot of money.”

  “But what if I want to date somebody and I’m stuck being your fake fiancée?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “We’re in an open relationship?”

  “Yeah, because that will definitely please mother dearest.”

  I sighed, pinching in the bridge of my nose. “Think of it this way, pretend to be my fiancée and not only will you make a lot of money, you’ll be sticking it to my mother.”

  Rachel raised her eyebrows and smirked. “I do like the sound of that.”

  “It’d only be for a little while, and only on the surface. I’d take you to events and parties or whatever. Maybe take you on a couple of public dates. You know, to really show you off. And the upside is you wouldn’t even have to maintain an actual relationship.”

  “What I’m hearing is that I’d get to enjoy all the fun and none of the work.”

  I snapped my fingers enthusiastically. “Exactly.”

  Rachel leaned against the edge of my desk and stared down at the floor, nervously biting her plump lower lip. “I don’t know. This is… Well, it’s a lot.”

  I approached her carefully, testing the waters. “Think about it. I’d finally get my mother off my back, and you’d earn enough to quit and pursue other passions. You’re into graphic design, right? What if I introduce you to some friends of mine?”

&
nbsp; “Friends?”

  “Yeah. My buddies are all CEOs of big corporations. Maybe you could show them your portfolio, maybe sign them on as clients.”

  Rachel chewed on the inside of her cheek, clearly deep in thought. She was probably weighing the pros and cons of getting together with me, even if it was all for show. I could read the conflict in her expression. Her brows were furrowed slightly, and there was a tension in her jaw. It was when she started biting her nails that I knew she was really having a hard time mulling things over.

  “If I agree to this,” she started slowly, “I need you to promise me that you’ll be honest.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “No matter what happens, there needs to be open communication between us. Once the word gets out that Peter Alance is engaged, people are going to want to know who I am. Even if it’s all fake, the repercussions are real. There’s no doubt in my mind that people are going to want to take the truth and twist it. So you have to promise me that you’ll always tell me the truth, and that you’re not going to shut me out. This fake relationship works both ways.”

  I stuck my hand out to shake. “Okay. You have yourself a deal. Rachel Ellis, will you pretend to marry me?”

  Rachel reached out and shook my hand. Her fingers easily slipped into mine. “You’re very romantic, you know that?”

  “I do my best.”

  She grinned at me. “Yes, I agree to pretend marry you.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. I could just start to feel Mother’s claws releasing me from the choke hold she had me in. Even if this was a temporary solution, at least it gave me time to figure things out in the long run. My only priority was running my company. Rachel seemed to understand this. I was grateful we were operating on the same wavelength. All things considered, we made a pretty darn good team.

  “I’m glad I hired you,” I admitted aloud.

  “I guess we’d better go shopping for a ring or something. Really make it official.”

  I nodded. “I’ll take you later this afternoon. I’ll even let you pick it out.”

  “Wonderful,” she said dryly.

  13

  Rachel

  I

  should have known to expect so much public attention following the announcement of our engagement. Peter was pretty much a celebrity, after all. I just didn’t expect the news to find me so soon. I received a frantic call from David in the middle of the day, something that rarely ever happened.

  “Why are there news vans outside of our apartment building?” he asked. “Why does everybody keep asking if I know you? The hell is going on? Did you murder your boss or something?”

  I let out a light laugh. It sounds as exhausted as I feel. “I’m sorry, I should have told you sooner. So, like, don’t be mad.”

  “What. Did. You. Do.”

  “I’m getting married.”

  The line went quiet. For a second, I thought I accidently hung up on him. Or, at the very least, that the call was dropped.

  “You what?” David screamed directly into my ear.

  “Would you relax for a second and let me explain?”

  “Relax? How exactly do you expect me to relax? What is going on? I don’t understand.”

  “I just need you to keep quiet for now, David.”

  “Oh, my God. Is that asshole forcing you to marry him? I’m going to kill him.”

  “Not so loud! You don’t want the reporters to hear you, do you?”

  “Let them hear me. Peter fucking Alance is both a fraud and a creep. Please, tell him no. Why are you even doing this?”

  “He’s kind of caught between a rock and a hard place.”

  “Then let him stay there! This has nothing to do with you.”

  I giggled. “You sound so protective, David. It’s weird.”

  “It’s not weird to be concerned for my–” He cut himself off. I had no idea what he was about to say, but he promptly continued. “Where are you now? I think we should have this conversation face to face.”

  “I’m still at the office. I’m actually getting changed right now. In light of the announcement, his whole family’s throwing a huge celebratory dinner.”

  “This again? Weren’t you miserable the last time?”

  “It’s going to be okay, David. I promise. Look, I have to go. Just don’t talk to anybody, and definitely don’t let anybody into the apartment. Peter’s going to send a couple of bodyguards over to secure the premises.”

  “Bodyguards? Seriously?”

  “I have to go, Davie. I’ll see you when I get home, okay?”

  “Rachel, wait–”

  I hung up the phone just as Peter entered the office. I was already dressed in an elegant black dress that reached the floor. Peter had his personal stylist flown in to help me get ready. He was busy adjusting his tie, all done up in a typical black suit. His hair was brushed back and gelled into place, and a red pocket square was sticking out of his chest pocket. He looked dashing, as always.

  “You ready?” he asked a bit gruffly.

  “Um, yeah. I think so.”

  “Thank you again for agreeing to this. I know it’s a lot to take in.”

  “I’ll be fine. I think.”

  Peter reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small ring box made of purple velvet. He then opened it and plucked the sparkling diamond ring that was resting inside. He had it custom made and rush ordered just so he could give it to me before the big dinner party.

  “Wow,” I gasped, words feeling heavy on my tongue. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Are you okay?” he asked as he slipped the ring onto my left hand’s middle finger. “You look like you’re about to cry. I don’t do well with crying women.”

  I shook my head. “I guess I just thought that… I don’t know. Never mind.”

  “No, no. Say it. Open communication, remember?”

  I took in a deep breath through the nose and exhaled through the mouth, trying to contain the butterflies in my stomach. There was a heaviness crushing my chest, a bitterness coating my throat. “I guess I just thought that the first time I got engaged, it’d be for real.” The ring around my finger was massive. It almost blinded me every time I looked at it. “It’s beautiful, though. Thank you.”

  “Don’t lose it. I expect to get it back once the coast is clear with Mother.”

  I teased him weakly, “You mean I don’t get to keep it?”

  “That thing is worth two houses in Malibu. I’d very much like a refund once this is all over, if it’s all the same to you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You are the epitome of romantic, Mr. Alance.”

  He chuckled. “Don’t let anyone hear you calling me that. They’ll think I have a weird power kink or something.”

  “What should I call you, then? Honey? Baby? Shnookums?”

  Peter crinkled up his nose at the last one, making me laugh. “Baby is fine, I think. Try not to go too overboard.”

  “But don’t we need this to be believable? You’re not getting gun shy on me, are you?”

  “You’re shameless, you know that?”

  “Says the man who has to fake a marriage to get away from his overbearing mother.”

  Peter put his hands up in mock surrender. “Touché.”

  What happened next surprised me. He lowered his hands and stepped forward slowly, trapping me between his body and the desk. He placed his hands on either side of my hips and trapped me there, staring at me with an intense focus I’d never been subjected to before. He eyed the shape of my lips and leaned in carefully. My heart was racing out of my chest, and my legs suddenly felt like jelly. I couldn’t move, couldn’t escape. Or rather, I didn’t want to escape. This sudden attention, the hunger in his gaze –it had me convinced that maybe I wasn’t crazy for believing there might be something here.

  Have you seen the way he looks at you?

  “Peter, what are you–”

  “Is this convincing enough?”

  I could feel his br
eath brushing against my face. I was so focused on how close he was standing that my head felt like it was buzzing, lifting off of my shoulders as my mind began to spin. I’d never suffered from claustrophobia before, but this was definitely pushing my limits. It was exhilarating, though. Something new and exciting and dangerous. The longer I stared into Peter’s eyes, the more I was convinced there was a hunger there –something wild and unruly that had been hidden away from the world. The thing of the matter was I actually liked that he was this close. I knew of his past, knew all about his weekend flings, but my heart was practically squealing under his attention. I never really thought about it before because I was too busy doing my job, but Peter had a very nice face. His lips, I noticed, were also just as tantalizing.

  “This is all pretend,” I had to remind myself aloud.

  Peter chuckled. “Of course. I thought we already established that.”

  I swallowed at the sticky lump that had lodged itself in my throat. “Right. Right, we did.”

  “You’re not catching feelings for me, are you?”

  I scoffed, trying to suppress the rising burn of attraction in my stomach. “No, of course not. This is strictly professional, Mr. Alance.”

  Peter was still eyeing my lips, like he’d forgotten what on Earth kind of point he was trying to prove. He eventually stepped back, readjusting his shirt collar. Was I imagining things, or did Peter look like he really wanted to kiss me? All my late hours and overtime worked was finally starting to catch up with me. There was no way a guy like him would ever choose a woman like me.