Catching the Billionaire

by Elizabeth Blakely

  I’d never had this sort of visceral reaction to a woman, and it was completely throwing me for a loop.

  She covered her face with her hands. Her blond hair cascaded over her face like a waterfall, completely curtaining it from view. “Sorry,” she muttered.

  “Why are you sorry?” I frowned. What had I missed?

  She slowly removed her hands from her face, and I could see that her pale skin had flushed with color. She was even more beautiful, if that was possible.

  “I’ve never had a boyfriend, let alone a fake one. So, I’m not really sure what to expect.”

  Her vulnerability disarmed me, and I softened. “That’s okay.” I leaned back against the bench. “And feel free to ask all the questions you want.”

  A sudden realization hit me—this could be my golden ticket. Her admission about her lack of dating experience could be my selling point. Though, she didn’t seem terribly opposed to the idea of fake dating me. Despite her initial shock, she was still sitting here, discussing it with me. That had to be a good sign, right?

  “You know,” I said, resting my ankle on my knee. “This could be the perfect opportunity for you.”

  “Yeah?” The way she scrunched her nose was adorable. “How so?”

  “You want dating experience, and I need a fake girlfriend. You can ask me all the questions you want, and I promise to be honest.”

  She considered if for a moment. “Guys aren’t normally honest?”

  “Not always. Not when we’re trying to date someone we really like.” I only realized how true the words were when I said them aloud. They were certainly true about me in that moment. Though, I knew better than to ever think I could actually date Staci.

  “What about Will?” she asked, and my chest deflated.

  “What about him?” I tried not to let my irritation show. Hadn’t I already answered her question about what to tell him?

  I reminded myself it was a good thing. She was meant to be with Will, and I was meant to be… well, alone.

  “Do you think you could give me some tips on dating him? You know, for after our fake relationship ends.”

  “Of course,” I said, forcing a smile. “Just think of me as your dating coach.”

  What was I saying? This was a terrible idea. I hadn’t dated in years. Worse still, I didn’t want to train her so another guy could scoop in and date her. I wanted her.

  I ground my jaw. I had no right to want her. And this was exactly why I hadn’t wanted to fake date her. Because she made me want something I couldn’t have.

  Yet I found myself digging a further hole. “Plus, most guys want something more once they know they can’t have it.” Boy, wasn’t that true?

  “Once he sees you’re dating me,” I continued. “He’ll be even more interested.”

  She flashed me her brilliant white teeth, but then her smile fell. “But I’ll be dating you. I won’t be able to date him.”

  “Yes,” I leaned in, wanting to get a stronger hit of her smell. “But then, when I break up with you, he can swoop in and pick up the pieces.”

  Ugh, I hated him even more. I’d put in all the work, and he’d be the one to reap the rewards.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Who says I won’t be the one to break up with you?”

  “Sweetheart,” I scoffed, shocked by how easily the pet name rolled off my tongue. “You need to be heartbroken, so he can feel like the hero.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you sure? I think you’re just saying that so you can keep your title as ‘America’s Heartbreaker.’”

  I chuckled, a chilly breeze blowing past. “Trust me, I am your dating coach after all. Or I can be,” I said. “If you agree to my proposal.”

  She stared at the lake, and I wondered what she was thinking. I wondered if I’d offered her enough, or if I should try to sweeten the deal. My knee bounced, and unable to take it any longer, I decided to go for it. I hadn’t wanted to resort to bribery, but I was desperate. I couldn’t get cut from the team. Not now. Not when we were so close to winning a championship. If it wasn’t this season, I had a feeling it would be the next.

  “I know I’m asking a lot. It’s not easy—being in the public eye. But…I can help you. I can compensate you for your time. Or I have connections in the music industry.” It wouldn’t be the first time someone dated me to fast-track their career.

  “What?” She jerked her head back. “No.”

  Some of the tension in my chest eased at her knee-jerk reaction. I knew she could use the money—or rather, her mom could according to Scott. But Staci had refused it all the same. That said a lot about her character.

  “I don’t want your money. But I will take you up on your offer to coach me,” she said, giving me a hesitant smile.

  “Really?” My heart was pounding a mile a minute.

  “Yes, really.” She grinned.

  “We should probably discuss some ground rules,” I said, thinking these were more for myself than her.

  “Such as…?”

  “How long we’re going to date, physical boundaries, that kind of stuff,” I said, feeling both more relaxed and more tense at the same time.

  “Good idea.” She nodded, though she kept fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. Was I making her nervous? “What did you have in mind?”

  “My contract expires at the end of the season. They’re typically negotiated and finalized by end of January. So…” I did some mental calculations. “To be convincing, we need to date at least until mid-February.”

  Two months from now. That meant she was mine for the next eight weeks. Mine. I shouldn’t love the thought of how that sounded.

  She nodded. “Okay. But we’re not breaking up on Valentine’s Day.”

  “Fair enough,” I said, eager to agree to as many of her terms as possible. She was doing me a huge favor. “And I’ll pay for any expenses incurred while dating me. Tickets to events, if you need a dress or hair and makeup.”

  “Wow. That’s incredibly generous.”

  “It’s how I’d treat a girlfriend.” If I ever had one.

  “What about public displays of affection?” she asked. “Will that be…necessary?” She swallowed, and I wondered if she was anxious or opposed to the idea of kissing me or both.

  I didn’t like that. Not one bit. I wanted to put her mind at ease. I wanted her to be comfortable with me, and not just because she’d need to be if were had any hope of this relationship being convincing.

  “We can stick to holding hands or small touches in public. As for kissing—” I cleared my throat. “I’ll leave the decision up to you. We can probably get away with kisses to the forehead or cheek.”

  “Okay.” She let out a breath, and her shoulders relaxed. I frowned. “That should be okay. So, nothing on the lips?”

  “I promise not to kiss you on the lips unless you ask me to.” My tone was solemn.

  “I won’t,” she answered quickly.

  Don’t be too sure, sweetheart, I thought.

  “But we’re going to have to look like a couple in love if people are going to believe us,” I said. “Which means, we need to work on our story.”

  Staci’s brow furrowed. “Our story?”

  “Yeah, you know…the story of how we met. People are going to ask.”

  “Okay. Hmm.” She tapped her index finger to her lips, drawing my attention to them once again.

  “It’s always best to stick as close to the truth as possible. And I think people would love the story of us meeting because my bachelor auction date couldn’t come. Especially if we visit Mrs. Stanton together.”

  “That works. I definitely don’t want to lie,” she said, before adding, “Well, not any more than we already are.”

  I nodded. “I don’t like lying either, but it’s only for a short time. And really, we’re not hurting anyone. So, it’s more like a secret between a couple than a lie. Right?”

  “Right,” she said, though I sensed some hesitance on he
r part.

  I understood because I felt it too. But working in this industry, living this life as long as I had, tended to make you a bit jaded. I didn’t want that part of me to rub off on her.

  “So, what now?” she asked. “Are we official? Do I need to change my Facebook status to ‘In a Relationship’?” She tilted her head to the side. “Or maybe ‘It’s Complicated’ is a better fit. I think I finally understand why they have that option.”

  I stared at her. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  She laughed, holding her stomach as she bent forward. “You should see your face right now.”

  She was breathless with laughter, and she was so beautiful it stole my breath. I wanted to capture that moment—her joy—and bottle it up.

  “Staci,” I growled. “Don’t make me regret asking you to be my girlfriend.”

  She stilled, the laughter dying on her lips. “Don’t make me regret agreeing to be your fake girlfriend,” she shot back. I liked the fire in her eyes. I liked the fact that she wasn’t afraid to challenge me. “And yes, I’m kidding about Facebook.”

  “Good. If you’re free, I thought we could visit Mrs. Stanton. Since she’s still in the hospital, I thought it would be a nice gesture and a good way to get people used to seeing us together.”

  “Oh, um.” She kept glancing away, anywhere but at me. “Sure. I guess that would be fine.”

  I was about to ask her if something was wrong, but she jumped up from the bench before I could open my mouth. Her skirt fluttered from her movement. “Let’s go.”

  I escorted her to my truck, holding open the passenger door so she could climb inside. Watching her attempt to hop inside was almost comical. She was so petite, that getting into the cab was a bit of a struggle. I covered my mouth to hide my smile.

  I rounded the hood, sending a quick text to Scott before firing up the engine. Hopefully, he’d have some paparazzi there in time to photograph us leaving the hospital.

  Staci was quiet during the drive, and I assumed she was still trying to process the fact that we were now dating. Well, fake dating. It was a lot to take in, and I was grateful she hadn’t put up more of a fight. I wanted to believe it was because she liked me, maybe even wanted to spend more time with me, but I knew that wasn’t true. She was using me, just like I was using her.

  As we entered the hospital, I placed my hand on her lower back. She jolted a little, but didn’t protest. I tried not to think about how much I liked the feel of walking beside her, protecting her. I barely knew her, yet I felt like I’d always known her. I shook my head at myself. My thoughts made absolutely no sense.

  Scott had already texted me the room number. After a quick stop at the giftshop for some flowers and balloons, we headed in the direction of room 322. A few people stared as we passed, and I smiled, grateful that no one stopped me for an autograph.

  The door of room 322 was ajar, and I rapped my knuckles against it before pushing it open. “Mrs. Stanton,” I called from the doorway, not wanting to startle her.

  “Yes? Come in.”

  I ushered Staci inside with my free hand, and I knew the moment Mrs. Stanton spotted me because her eyes widened and her mouth hung open. “Oh, my goodness gracious,” she whispered before adding in a louder voice. “Brandon James, is that really you?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said, stepping closer to the bed. “I’m sorry to drop by unannounced, but we wanted to check in on you.”

  I set the flowers on the shelf beneath the TV, within her line of sight.

  “Thank you. This is such a nice surprise. And, my goodness,” she held a hand to her chest. “Those flowers are stunning.”

  She held out her hand for me, and I went over to her and grasped it gently. She was so frail, I was afraid even the slightest movement would break her.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I brought my girlfriend with me,” I said, beckoning Staci over with my free hand.

  She joined me at the side of the hospital bed, and I tried to decipher her expression. I wished I knew what she was thinking. Was she having second-thoughts already?

  “Hi, I’m Staci.” She smiled and gave a small wave.

  “Girlfriend? Since when?” Mrs. Stanton asked, though she was grinning.

  “Well, that’s what we came to talk to you about. We wanted to thank you for introducing us.” I pulled Staci closer to me, grateful for any excuse to touch her.

  Mrs. Stanton glanced from Staci to me, then back again. “Introducing you?”

  “Yes. You see, Staci had the unfortunate job of telling me that you stood me up for our date.” I clucked my tongue, my eyes sparkling with mirth.

  “Yes, well, I’m sorry I couldn’t make it. Believe me,” Mrs. Stanton said, “I’d much rather have been sharing dinner with you than having emergency surgery.”

  “I’m sure,” I said. “And I’m very sorry you couldn’t make it. How are you feeling?”

  She sliced a hand through the air. “I’m fabulous,” she said, and somehow, I believed her. “But I’d rather talk about you.”

  “Okay.” I chuckled.

  We spent the next twenty minutes discussing strategy and the season. Staci seemed surprised by Mrs. Stanton’s passion for the sport, and I wondered if she’d ever like football. It seemed like a stretch considering she’d never even watched a game. Something I needed to remedy, and not just because she was dating an NFL player.

  When it was time to say goodbye, Staci took a few pictures of Mrs. Stanton and me before heading toward the door. I hung back for a minute, wanting Mrs. Stanton to know how much her support meant to me. It wasn’t often I got to spend quality time with a fan of her caliber. A fan who loved the Eagles as much as I did, and who was knowledgeable too.

  “It was a pleasure,” I said, clasping one of her frail hands between mine.

  I had a sudden vision of Staci as a much older woman, her worn hand in mine. And it startled me. There was only one woman I’d ever envisioned spending my life with, and she was dead.

  Mrs. Stanton gripped my hand with surprising strength, drawing me back to the present as she pulled me closer. “I hope you’re not going to pull a heartbreak on this one.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “I like her. She’s nothing like the floozies I normally see you photographed with.”

  I wanted to laugh, but instead I leaned in, keeping my voice low. “I know. That’s why I like her.” I winked before wishing her goodbye.

  When I returned to the hallway, Staci looked pale. Like really pale. She’d been quiet throughout the visit, but I’d assumed she was just trying to let Mrs. Stanton enjoy her time with me. Now, I began to suspect that something else was going on.

  I slipped my arm around her to steady her. “Whoa, there. Are you okay?”

  She did not look good, and I debated whether she was going to faint or be sick. I didn’t like the idea of either. So, I helped her over to an empty chair.

  I got her some water and sat with her until her skin returned to a more normal color.

  “Feeling better?” I asked. She nodded, taking another sip. “What happened?”

  “I’m not so good with hospitals.” She kept her eyes focused on the floor.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, wishing she had. I felt terrible for bringing her here.

  She lifted a shoulder. “Because I wanted to help you, and I wanted to cheer up Mrs. Stanton. But more than that, I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. That I wasn’t afraid.”

  I frowned, taking her hand in mine. She startled, but didn’t try to take her hand back. I tried to ignore just how perfect her small, delicate fingers felt encased in my own larger ones.

  “Talk to me,” I said, wanting to understand. Wanting to know everything.

  She let out a breath that was weighted. “Bad things happen in hospitals. My mom was diagnosed with cancer in a hospital. She underwent painful treatments that left her weak. She nearly died.”

  I rubbed my thumb across the back of my hand, hoping the
small gesture would provide her with some comfort. She was so incredibly brave.

  A tear found its way down her cheek. “And my dad died in a hospital.”

  I wrapped my free arm around her, pulling her close to me. “I’m so sorry.”

  I knew it would be of little comfort, but what else could I say. She’d been through so much. And despite that, she was still kind, caring, and warm. She was still courageous enough to attempt visiting to a place that she associated with so much pain.

  I nearly told her about Melissa. But I didn’t want her to think I was comparing my pain to hers or that I’d somehow be adding to her pain. So, I decided to attempt to cast a positive light on hospitals. Melissa might have died in one, but she’d donated her organs. Which meant other people had a chance at life.

  “You know, there are good things that happen at hospitals too,” I said.

  She sniffled, her cheeks pinkened from crying. “Yeah?” she croaked.

  “Yeah. People’s lives are saved—like your mom. And babies are born.”

  She nodded, wiping away her tears. “You know, I never thought about it that way. I never thought about the good things. Look at you being Mr. Positivity.” She gave me a watery smile.

  “Don’t get used to it,” I teased. Though I had to admit—being in her company did make the world seem much brighter.

  Chapter Eleven

  Staci

  I thought about Brandon the entire drive home and through most of dinner with my family. He’d been so different than I’d expected, different from the first time we’d met even. And I was beginning to realize that beneath the gruff exterior was a man who was caring and kind. A man who was passionate, yet tender.

  I didn’t know what to make of it all. I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I was now fake dating him. Even now, I couldn’t quite explain to myself why I’d agreed to it. But for some reason, I felt compelled to help him. He seemed… lost or something. And I understood; I felt a bit lost myself.

  Mama had been talking with Aunt Karen when she glanced at me and frowned. “You’re very quiet, Staci. Is everything okay?”