The Billionaire's Fake Girlfriend - Part 3 (Contemporary Romance) (The Billionaire Saga)

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The Billionaire's Fake Girlfriend - Part 3 (Contemporary Romance) (The Billionaire Saga) Page 9

by Sierra Rose


  She sat up suddenly. “She did not!”

  “Yep.” I fluffed up Barry’s pillow beneath my head. “Apparently, I look like an a-typical gold-digger, and he’s been hiding me to protect me. But now I’ve gone and fucked it all up by not drinking booze while pregnant on TV.”

  “I still can’t believe that happened.” She laid her head back down and played absentmindedly with her hair as we gazed up at the ceiling. “I can’t believe that bitch offered you Champagne. And I’m sorry, Bex—but what the hell were you supposed to do!”

  “That’s what I said!”

  “Marcus can’t believe that stuff!”

  “I don’t know what’s going through his mind.”

  “Men,” she scoffed, shaking her head. “This is why they can’t get pregnant. Because they can’t handle the awesome responsibility of growing a human life. They’d kill it with Budweiser.”

  “This is Marcus we’re talking about.”

  “You’re right, he would get it insured first.”

  I snorted in teary laughter. “No, I meant, he’d be drinking something pretentious.”

  The crack of light on the floor widened slightly as Barry peeked his head in. “Hey, girls, is, uh…is everything all right?”

  Amanda lifted her head. “We’re going to need awhile, sweetie. You okay sleeping on the couch tonight?”

  He shook his head with a rueful smile. “By now? I’d expect nothing less.”

  As he disappeared, I turned back to her in despair. “See? Barry gets it. Barry is wonderful! Why can’t Marcus just…know that I would never do this on purpose? How can he not know that about me?”

  “I don’t know, Bex.”

  I bit my lip as more tears spilled over. “How can I marry someone who would think that of me? I mean, we don’t know each other at all, do we?”

  She rolled onto her side. “I think you do.” I scoffed, but she held up a hand. “I’m serious, I know it’s only been three months, but I think you do. There’s something about the two of you that just clicks. There always has been.”

  I raised my eyebrows expectantly. “But this? But now?”

  “Now…” Her face tightened angrily. “…fuck him. He thinks you got pregnant as part of some scheme? Cool. You can raise the baby with Barry and me. And if anyone comes throwing rocks and calling you a whore—well, to be honest, Bex, not only could I use the target practice, but I’ve been calling you that for years.”

  We stared at each other for a second before bursting out laughing.

  “I thought that title was reserved for you,” I said.

  “Okay, yeah. It was. But I swear I’m a changed woman now.”

  We both laughed.

  Her arm laced through mine, and she patted my hand as we turned back to the ceiling.

  “You are going to get through this,” she said when we finally settled down. “With or without him, we’re going to make this work.”

  “Thanks,” I whispered. I squeezed her hand as more tears poured down my cheeks.

  “You’re my sister, Rebecca,” she said seriously. “We take care of each other. Now get some sleep. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

  “Over ice cream?”

  “Over ice cream.”

  Chapter 17

  The next morning actually came much quicker than I was prepared for. I slept soundly on Barry’s side of the bed, safe in the knowledge that whatever the next day brought, we would face it together. But when the door creaked open a little after eight, my stomach tangled in knots.

  This time, Barry looked a bit nervous as he stuck his head inside. “Hey, sorry to wake you girls up, but…Marcus is at the door. He seems pretty upset.”

  Amanda’s eyes glowed fiercely as she kicked off the covers and pushed back her knotted hair. “Barry, honey, do us a favor. Kick his ass and send him on his way.”

  Barry’s eyes widened a bit, but he stood up straighter. “Are you serious? He’s a big guy.”

  “You can take him on, baby.”

  Amanda looked at me speculatively, leaving it up to me. I sincerely debated for a moment but then decided that one way or another, I needed to talk to him. I still had Billings’ car, after all. At the very least, that would have to be returned.

  “I should talk to him,” I murmured, pulling myself out of bed. Amanda followed like an angry shadow, yanking a bathrobe over her cupcake pajamas.

  We wandered noiselessly down the hall, but the second I saw Marcus standing behind the glass-paned door, nervously tapping his fingers against his pants as he waited, I stopped abruptly in my tracks. An image of his skeptical, accusatory face flashed through my head, and I took a step back, shaking my head.

  “I can’t,” I mumbled to Amanda. “I can’t talk to him.”

  She nodded quickly and backed us up to the couch, gesturing to Barry who opened the door with a rather sheepish look on his face. “Uh, sorry, man. She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

  Marcus’s face paled, and he tried to look inside over Barry’s shoulder. “Rebecca,” he called blindly. “Bex, I’m sorry. I was an idiot—I didn’t mean it. Please talk to me.”

  Amanda shook her head sharply, and Barry turned and translated. “And tell him not to call her Bex,” she added under her breath.

  “Marcus, I think you should just go.” Barry shifted anxiously from foot to foot. “Whatever you did, they’re pretty upset in there. Kicked me out of bed.”

  Marcus ignored this and took a step forward. “Becca, please! Just let me apologize.”

  Barry held his ground, this time, requiring no translation. “I’m trying to be nice here, man, but if she doesn’t want to talk to you, you’re not coming inside.” He straightened up a little, and for the first time, I realized there were lean muscles under those professor-y shirts he was always wearing. “You might want to take a step back.”

  For a second, Marcus looked like he was considering clocking Barry upside the head, but he took a step back and raised his hands. “Okay, okay. Can you just tell her—or if you’re listening Rebecca, please just know—that I scheduled a meeting with the stockholders, and I’m recommending that we abandon the Takahari deal.”

  Amanda and I looked at each other in alarm, as Barry glanced back inside uneasily.

  “It’s not worth anything if it means I lose you,” Marcus continued. Several neighbors had begun to gather, but he ignored them as he continued to pour out his heart. “And for what it’s worth, I wouldn’t have taken the Champagne either.” His face fell hopelessly as he took another step back. “And I know you didn’t get pregnant on purpose.”

  When there was nothing but silence from the house, he finally turned on his heel and walked dejectedly back to his car.

  He had almost made it when I stuck my head out the door.

  “You’re canceling the Takahari merger?”

  His whole face brightened with relief. “Rebecca—”

  “You can’t do that! He was your father’s big client, and you’re so close. Why on earth would you try to back out now? I absolutely forbid it.”

  He completely ignored any reference to the business and rushed back as close as he dared while Amanda and Barry hovered protectively behind me. “I know you didn’t try to get pregnant.” His face was flushed and earnest. “It was the worst thing I could have said—blurted in a moment I know I’ll regret forever—I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it in the slightest. I…I know you.” He reached tentatively for my hand. “I know you’d never do that.”

  I kept my hands to myself. “Then why did you say it?”

  His face softened thoughtfully. “Rebecca, did I ever tell you my mom was a librarian?”

  I hesitated. “No, you didn’t.”

  “She was working full-time while she finished grad school on a scholarship. She’d won a working internship with an archeological dig in Cairo, and she was headed there right after graduation. It was her dream—to be a jet-setting anthropologist. Then…she met my dad.”

  He
stifled a small sigh.

  “He was just an up-and-coming financial investor trying to make a name for himself when they met and fell in love. They’d been together only a few months when he suddenly hit it big and landed himself on the cover of Forbes. At the same time, she got pregnant.”

  My stomach seized up, and I held my breath. I thought I knew where this was going.

  “The press was relentless. Pegged her as a lying little harlot, trying to anchor him down now that he had money. Called her…” He met my eyes briefly before glancing away. “Called her all sorts of things. It made a wedge between them. He started to believe what he heard; she started to go a little mad. When she finally died in the Westwood facility, she died with regrets. She never got to live her dream. And I don’t want to take your dream away from you. I know how much you want to be an actress.”

  This time, when he offered his hands, I took them.

  “Rebecca…I lashed out because I thought I saw history repeating itself, and that terrified me. I had to blame it on you because I couldn’t be that guy. The guy who went out and got a girl pregnant…and took her life away. Not like my father. Not like my mom.”

  I pulled in a deep breath, trying to steady myself as I stared into his eyes. “I got pregnant…because we had sex. And sometimes birth control fails.”

  “I know that,” he said softly.

  “And I didn’t take the drink—”

  “I’m glad you didn’t take the drink.” He flashed me a tender smile. “It proves that you’re going to be an awesome mother. It’s one of the reasons I love you.”

  “That’s so sweet.”

  “I’ve been doing a lot of soul-searching the entire night. And I’ve come to a realization.”

  “What?”

  “Remember what you said to me, right before we went to the club? It was a while back. But you asked me, ‘What’s truly important to you as a man? Simply ask yourself, what’s truly important to you?’”

  “I said if nothing’s coming to you, don’t worry. Just keep thinking. I’ll ask you later. Just be completely honest.”

  “And I finally know the answer to that question.”

  “What is it?”

  “To be the best husband and father that I can be. To put my family above my job, to give them everything they need; to love them to the best of my ability. I want a family more than anything. I want a wife to kiss on Christmas morning. I want to watch our children rip wrapping paper off their presents while we all sit by a big, roaring fire in robes.”

  “Drinking hot chocolate?”

  “Or eggnog.”

  I smiled.

  “Then, we’ll make a big, family breakfast together. I want it more than anything in the world.”

  “No more quiet holidays?”

  “Nope! We’ll fill up all the bedrooms.”

  “C’mon! There’s like twenty of them!”

  He laughed. “We’ll breathe life into that lonely mansion. And I want to live this dream with you, and only you.”

  A tear fell down my face. “I love you. And I would love to start a life with you, Marcus Taylor.”

  He grinned. “And I love you, Rebecca White. There’s nothing I’d rather do than marry you and start a family.”

  Another kiss.

  There was a sudden screech of tires and a faint hum of people that grew exponentially louder over the course of just a few seconds.

  “Great,” I murmured, glancing around, “one of the neighbors must have called the press.”

  “Come home with me. We need to start this dream right now,” Marcus said with a steady smile.

  I glanced at Amanda and Barry who gave me a thumbs-up and a winking grin.

  “Let’s do it, baby!” I shouted, jumping into his arms.

  Marcus beamed back at me.

  “I just have to straighten out one critical detail,” he said.

  “Can’t it wait?” I asked anxiously. Reporters were starting to gather in a tiny crowd at the base of the driveway, and I pulled automatically into the house.

  “Nope.” He took my hand firmly and marched us down to the gate. “It’s gotta be now.”

  I had no idea what he was doing. Literally—none. But I followed along beside him, cringing anxiously behind his shoulder at the flashbulbs until he pulled me to his side.

  “Good morning!” he said cheerfully to the buzzing crowd.

  They shot each other astonished looks before bombarding him with questions and cameras. But after only a moment, he held up his hand for silence.

  “I know you’re probably all looking for a statement after what happened on Good Morning America. Well, all there is to say is this…”

  You could have heard a pin drop in the suddenly breathless crowd.

  “My lovely fiancée Rebecca and I are expecting our first child.” He met my gaze with a radiant, euphoric smile. “And I couldn’t be any happier.”

  Chapter 18

  My lovely fiancée Rebecca and I are expecting our first child, and I couldn’t be happier.

  The words were still ringing in my ears as we got onto Marcus’s plane. They were still ringing in my ears when we touched down in Napa for a surprise—a getaway from all the wedding/media chaos—weekend. They were still ringing seven hours later as we strolled hand in hand through the vineyards under the stars.

  Bright, silver moonlight painted the open countryside in magical hues. A soft celestial glow clung to my future husband’s dark hair and sparkled in his eyes as I turned to him shyly. We hadn’t said much since we’d gotten on the plane. We’d mostly just held on to each other as we made our way into the luxury resort in thoughtful silence. It wasn’t until Marcus asked me on this midnight walk that I realized it was one of our first real sentences to each other since the impromptu press conference this morning. Don’t get me wrong, the silence wasn’t a bad thing. I think that with the enormity of everything that was about to happen…we both just had a lot on our minds.

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me all that about your parents?” I asked quietly.

  His shoulders stiffened, and I braced for a rebuke, but he merely hung his head and sighed. “I didn’t have the easiest childhood. My father raised me how his father saw fit to raise him and…well, let’s just say it’s nothing I’ll be passing on to our child.”

  “What?”

  “I loved the guy, but he’d beat my ass.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “My dad quit hitting me when I grew up. He taught me everything I needed to know about how to run a business. And we became friends as adults, bonding over board meetings and running companies. But I was still torn up about my childhood. For some reason, I couldn’t get over it. But after he died, I forgave him,” he said. “And forgiveness is so freeing. I know I want to give my child a different kind of life. No nannies. No boarding school. No beatings. Just all my unconditional love.”

  “That’s so sweet to hear.”

  “We’re going to give our child a good life, and he or she is going to have loving parents who care about him or her.”

  “Yes, we are.”

  “I was drinking heavily last year to try to forget the pain of my past. My dad was so mean to my mother, beat her too. I think it’s why I never settled down or had a girlfriend. I was scared to death that because I was drinking like my dad, that I would become him. I didn’t want to hurt or beat the women in my life.”

  “That’s not you at all,” I said.

  “I like to think I took after my mother,” he said. “I miss my mother. I loved her dearly. I think losing her put me into a tailspin. I was in a haze. I was a brilliant businessman, sharp during the day. But when night came, I drank to dull the pain. I started taking more holidays and vacations, drinking to escape. But when I was about to lose my biggest client, it made me reevaluate my life.”

  “You cleaned up, forgave your dad, and came back to the States.”

  “Yes. And soon after, I met you.”

  I smiled.

/>   “You were the best thing to ever happen to me. You made me a better man.”

  “And I’m a better woman because of you.”

  I sat down on a bench overlooking the rolling hills, and he took a seat beside me, throwing his jacket automatically around my thin shoulders. I didn’t want to press. I knew Marcus by now—knew how to read the hard set to his jaw and the tightening around his lovely eyes. I knew this was hard for him to talk about, except… There was so much I still didn’t know about Marcus. I knew him, yes. But his history, his family, his past? They were all still mysteries. I decided to start instead.

  “My father left us when I was still a kid,” I volunteered softly. Marcus turned to me; I saw him in my periphery, but I kept my eyes on the hills. “My mother raised Max and me alone—and while she did the best she could—there was always an edge to it, you know? She’d never really let her guard down with anyone besides us. It was like she couldn’t trust anymore. No matter how hard she tried to hide it, it’s something she passed on to us kids. And while I can’t speak for Max, I know it’s something I’ve had to work really hard to get over.” I gave him a playful nudge. “You might have noticed…”

  He laughed softly but gave me a long, intense look before gazing back over the hills himself. “Sometimes, I almost wish my mother had raised me instead of leaving it to everyone else. I was generally left with the nanny until I was old enough to go to boarding school, but by that time, my mother was already getting sick—even when I was back for holidays. I didn’t get to see her much. My dad forced her to do whatever he wanted. She didn’t want to leave me, not at all, but she didn’t have the courage to leave him.” His handsome face clouded over. I squeezed his hand comfortingly, and he took a deep breath before continuing. “He was a harsh man—very strict, very…physical.” A wry smile touched the corner of his lips. He rolled up the bottom of his collared shirt, twisting slightly so I could see the side of his abdomen. Even in the moonlight, it was impossible to miss the scar. I had noticed it before, of course. In fact, I’d grown quite intimate with Marcus’s body as of late. But I never thought anything of it. Maybe a rough match on the polo field, or a yachting accident, or a fencing wound. In my mind, the catalog of things that could actually injure the filthy rich was a small list. But looking at it now, running in a delicate line across his ribs, it almost looked like…

 

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