Billionaire's Fake Fiancee

by Eva Luxe

“Because this restaurant made you too smart. How are you guys doing, by the way?”

  “Well, we made it through the first year, which is always the hardest. Only had one month where we weren’t profitable, and I can attribute that to the weather. So, this year we’re preparing some dishes and deals to entice people to come out even if the weather becomes shit.”

  “That’s really awesome,” I said. “I’m glad things are looking up.”

  “You hungry? I could have the kitchen whip you up something.”

  “No, I’m good.”

  “What about a drink?” he asked. “On the house.”

  “Fine, if you’re gonna twist my arm.”

  “Atta boy. I’ll be right back.”

  I felt like shit. I didn’t even have enough money to come have dinner in my best friend’s restaurant. I was happy that their first year went so well, though part of me was thinking about all the money I’d given to it.

  Owning part of the business brought us in a little monthly revenue, but nothing to shake a stick at. Just enough to pay our phone and electric bill. It helped, but there was a part of me that could’ve thought of a million ways to invest the money I’d given Caden for this restaurant. The sad part was that if I took more of my inheritance money, I could give Caden even more, and also not have such money problems at home.

  Fuck. I was a shitty friend.

  “Here,” he said. “Try our newest seasonal brew.”

  “What is it?”

  “Just try it,” he said.

  I took a sip of it and was immediately assaulted by pumpkin. There was a hint of honey and an undertone of cinnamon, and then I was whacked in the face with the alcohol content. It was a delicious beer, although an overpoweringly strong one that I could only see myself drinking on special occasions.

  I guess this counted as one of those. And time I was able to spend with Caden these days did, now that we were both busy— him with his restaurant and me with my family. So, I raised the glass high in the air and grinned.

  “To wonderful beer that isn’t that shitty stout crap. May people finally come to their senses.”

  “You’re a dick,” Caden said, chuckling.

  “This is a really good beer,” I said. “I take it it’s a fall beverage.”

  “Yep. I’ve been perfecting the concoction. This is the only tap we have of it so far. Anything you’d change?”

  I nodded. “The alcohol content is a bit strong. If you want people to drink more than one, I’d suggest lowering it. And perhaps tone done the pumpkin taste just a bit.”

  “See? This is why I need you around. You help me tweak shit like this. Has the lumber yard fired you yet so I can scoop you up? I mean, I have you to thank for this place. It only makes sense that you’d work here.”

  “Shockingly enough, not yet,” I said.

  “So, what’s this advice you come seeking.”

  “I never said I was seeking advice.”

  He rolled his eyes at me. “Cut the shit, Zach. What’s going on?”

  “My father sort of dropped a bomb in my lap when we went up there.”

  “I knew it.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Look, I love you rekindling shit with your dad and all, but he’s your dad. You know, the shithead from your childhood? I get that Paige wants to think he’s changed, and I’m sure he’s good with Blithe, but something about him still gives me the creeps.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Really. Always swooping in and paying for shit. Like opening night here, and yours and Paige’s wedding.”

  “You think he has ulterior motives because he’s paying for shit?” I asked.

  “I think that people can bury parts of themselves, but not change.”

  “Gotcha,” I said. “Well, wanna know the bomb?”

  “Oh, yeah. That. What was it?”

  “He wants to buy us a house.”

  My words silenced Caden before he started laughing. “You’re fucking serious.”

  “As a heart attack,” I said.

  “Your father— the man who spent most of your life being an abusive dick— wants to buy you a house?”

  “Well, when you put it that way…”

  “Dude. Zach. Okay. I love you, man. I’ve known you for years. I watched your mother swim through some serious shit. I think maybe you’ve lost sight of who this man really is.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “For years, Zach— years— you blamed this man for your mother’s death. It took you years to swallow your anger and keep going.”

  “But according to you, I only buried it. I didn’t change.”

  He snorted. “You’re different.”

  “Because I’m not abusive?” I asked.

  “I see Paige’s logical thought processes have rubbed off on you,” he said. “Look, I just think your father has ulterior motives. He’s a businessman. He doesn’t do anything without looking to cash in eventually. Maybe it’s something harmless like writing this shit off on his taxes, or maybe it’s something massive, like wanting you to participate in a mob hit.”

  “A mob hit?” I asked.

  “It’s just an example, but it’s a prime one. Taking charity is a slippery slope. You know this.”

  “I know,” I said.

  “And if you take something from someone you can’t pay back, then in their eyes, you owe them. Always.”

  His words hit hard. I took another pull from my beer. “You think that’s what he’s doing?”

  “Can you really take the chance with Paige and Blithe in the picture?”

  “I don’t feel that he’s got an ulterior motive,” I said.

  “And that’s fine. Until you take the house, get settled in, and he comes knocking to cash in. Then what are your feelings going to do to help?”

  “You’d be an entertaining lawyer, you know that?”

  “I’m apparently an entertaining business owner, too. My chef is constantly laughing with me.”

  “You sure it’s not at you?” I asked, grinning.

  “Can I ask why you’re considering taking the house?”

  “I’m not considering it,” I said.

  “You wouldn’t be seeking advice if you had already turned your father down. What’s going on? Is something wrong with the place you guys are in now?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with it. It’s just that we’ll outgrow it eventually. Blithe will get older, and Paige and I are talking about having a child someday.”

  Caden smiled. “Oh, shit. Are you serious? Congratulations. Another round of beers for the table!”

  “No, it’s nothing that’s happening anytime soon,” I said. “And no more of that beer. It’s strong. I’ll have to eat just to soak up the alcohol so I can drive myself home.”

  “Then get yourself some food. Come on. I haven’t really seen you in almost two months.”

  “Dude, I can’t eat here. Paige is cooking dinner.”

  “You can’t eat here, or you don’t have the ability to?”

  I clenched my jaw and sat back in the booth, saying nothing.

  “You know all you have to do is come here,” Caden said. “I’ll pay you whatever the fuck it takes. I’ve got the money, and you’re a superb cook. I’ve been looking to branch out in the to-go realm of things, but I’d need to take on another chef.”

  “I’m good, Caden.”

  “Zach.”

  “I said I’m good, okay? I’m fine at the lumber company and Paige’s artwork is good. It’s fine.”

  “But you could be great,” he said. “Or wonderful. Or fantastic.”

  “Would you fucking drop it?”

  Another beer was set in front of me. I sighed and closed my eyes. “I don’t think my father has ulterior motives, but I also know you could be right. Especially with my father’s shady past. Maybe I could just take more money from my inheritance, so that I’m only taking what is rightfully mine, and I don’t feel beholden to him for always buying us
stuff.”

  Caden nodded. “I know you want what’s best for your girls, and right now, you’re probably thinking you don’t care about how you acquire it. But I care about keeping you guys safe. Sometimes, safety’s more important than just having the best.”

  A sizzling plate of appetizers was slid onto the table, sending my saliva glands into overdrive.

  “On the house,” Caden said as he slid out of the booth.

  “Thanks, man.”

  “And Zach?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “All you gotta do is say the word.”

  I ate the delectable appetizers and polished off my second beer before I left. I took my time so I wasn’t tipsy. I wanted to do some riding before I went back home. Paige wasn’t really expecting me for dinner. That had been a lie because I didn’t want to stay too long or drink too much.

  Blithe was at a sleepover with a friend, and I was hoping it would give Paige the space she needed to do some painting. I knew she was stressed, and I knew she was worried about the sales of her artwork. I also knew that painting was her lifeline. It was how she centered herself when the world around her was in upheaval.

  I didn’t want her to paint for money. Tonight, I wanted her to paint for pleasure.

  I rode along the coast and breathed the salty air in deep. My soul was in turmoil. Our pockets were as strained as they could get. We were now at a point where dropping excess luxuries would need to take place in order to free up funds.

  Streaming services Paige used and the unlimited data on my phone would have to disappear. We would have to find ways to start saving energy so we could slowly roll back the dollar amount of our bills, and part of me was ready to start looking at apartments to live in if we sold the brownstone.

  And to think, I was actually a billionaire, if only I’d let myself access the money. But it felt so tied up with my dad and my past that I kept letting it hold me back.

  How the fuck had things spiraled so far out of control? How the hell did they get so messed up? Why was Paige’s artwork no longer selling? Why the fuck had we been so stupid with our taxes? Why was the lumber yard no longer asking me if I wanted overtime hours?

  It was like life was trying to scream something at me, but I couldn’t hear the words.

  I parked alongside the beach and took a stroll out to the water. I raised my face up to the stars and allowed the wind to wrap around my body. Every time the wind kicked up, I smiled.

  It made me feel like my mom was still here. It always made me feel like she was still trying to wrap her arms around me and hold me close to her like she had when I was younger. I felt the waves lapping at my boots as the cold wind sent shivers down my spine.

  As I thought about my mother, I noticed something. It was the first time I was thinking about my mother without any anger in my system.

  Usually, thoughts of my mother brought untamed hatred for my father. It would spur thoughts of my father, which would make me angry and make me curse his existence.

  This time, though, her memory wasn’t tainted with anger. I could see her chasing after me on the lawn, but there was no frustration. I could hear her voice in my ear, but there was no anger at the fact that she was gone. I could feel her holding me close as we swung on the porch swing of our home here in Brookings, but there was no hatred toward my father.

  That was when it hit me. Maybe Caden was wrong. Maybe people could change.

  Chapter 10- Paige

  I laid Blithe down for a nap. We had played hard all day long, and she was exhausted. She wanted to help with breakfast that morning, which resulted in a tea party she wanted to throw with all her favorite stuffed animals. We played dress up and did each other’s makeup, and then I took her out window shopping.

  We went into stores and tried on all sorts of dresses, and I committed some to memory. I was hoping to sell a couple of paintings today. Then I could go back to the stores later and get them for her.

  I was tucking Blithe in for her nap when a knock came from the door.

  Furrowing my brow, I peeked out the window beside the door. I couldn’t believe who was standing there. I threw the door open and wrapped my arms around her neck, trying to stifle my squeal of delight as I jumped up and down.

  “Kami, what the hell are you doing here?” I asked.

  She shrugged, playing it cool. “I was in the neighborhood. I figured I’d stop by.”

  I laughed. “You were not in the neighborhood. Cut the shit. What are you doing here?”

  “Let go of me, and I’ll tell you.”

  I stepped back. “Sorry. Yes, come in.”

  “Where’s Blithe?” she asked.

  “She just went down for a nap.”

  “A nap? I thought she wasn’t doing those anymore?”

  “Most of the time, no,” I said. “But we played hard this morning and she was practically falling asleep in her lunch.”

  “Speaking of, what’s for lunch? You want Chinese, pizza, or Italian?”

  “Pizza is Italian,” I said. “And I could just make something here.”

  “Girl, we’re ordering takeout, and you’re not paying. You know you never pay when I’m in town.”

  “And I don’t know why you insist on that. I guess get pizza. That way, Blithe can have some when she wakes up.”

  “I’ll get her a pizza just for her,” Kami said.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I said.

  “I know, but I’m gonna because I want to.”

  I grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and tossed one to her. Kami flopped down on the couch as she ordered the pizza, her nose stuck in her phone as her fingers flew across her screen. I was elated she was here, but I was curious as to what brought her into town.

  As if she could read my mind, she blurted it out. “Matt and I are on a vacation.”

  “Wait, you’re still with Matt?” I asked.

  “Can you believe that shit?”

  “I still can’t believe you’re dating your employee.”

  “Well, he needed the job!” she said. “It’s not my fault he’s also hot as hell.”

  “You know if you fuck this up, he could sue your ass for everything.”

  She waved my comment away. “Don’t worry. There’s paperwork in place to protect against that.”

  “I have no idea if you’re joking,” I said.

  “I don’t joke when it comes to my business.”

  “You made that poor boy sign paperwork?” I asked.

  “He’s fucking his boss! His friends are probably drooling over his job right now. Full-time pay to be a cashier, take orders, and help me cater shit? And he gets to fuck me in the delivery truck?”

  “I hope you disinfect it,” I said.

  “I make him do it,” she said, winking.

  “You’re terrible.”

  “And we’ve been together for seven months, thank you very much. He wanted us to take a weekend together, so I cleared our schedule and told him we should go to Brookings.”

  “He doesn’t know you’re here right now, does he?” I asked.

  “I told him I was getting a bikini wax for our date tonight. I just didn’t tell him what time the waxing was.”

  “And you wonder why you’re not married,” I said.

  “Oh, he’ll be fine. He knows I wear the pants. Anyway, what’s going on with you? I’m pissed you didn’t visit when you were at Kent’s.”

  “I didn’t really have time. Zach and I made the best of the alone time, and the one evening I would’ve visited you, he took me out for a date night type thing.”

  “Well, at least he’s treating you well,” she said. “I still can’t believe you married into that dysfunctional family.”

  “It’s really getting a lot better. I know Zach was hesitant about patching things up with Kent, but things really seem to have turned out well.”

  “And the artwork? The sales? How are those?”

  “Not wonderful,” I said.

  �
��Uh oh. What happened?”

  “I’m not really sure, to be honest. They sold like hot cakes there for a while, and then everything just stopped.”

  “Did the market trend change?” Kami asked.

  “The what?” I asked.

  “Seriously? You’re selling your artwork and don’t keep up with the market trend changes?”

  “What are you those?” I asked.

  “Sweetheart, starving artists create what they want. Successful artists create what people want.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Art, like food, is devoured and enjoyed in viral little chunks. Like last year, there was a wave of unicorn-based foods, then a wave of emoji-based foods, then a wave of nutritious, vegan-friendly foods.”

  “What does that have to do with art?” I asked.

  “Art has those same trends. Things and concepts that go viral that people want to devour. Your particular brand of art was trendy for a while, and then it stopped being trendy. It’s why you stopped selling. Why aren’t you doing any of this research?”

  “I figured if I just painted and enjoyed what I was doing, people would buy them,” I said.

  “You’re an idiot. Okay, this is what we’re doing while Blithe is sleeping. We’re gonna look up artistic trends of last year and see where your artwork fit in. Then, we’re gonna figure out where the trend is going so you can hop back on that wagon and get to selling some shit!”

  “Kent offered to buy us a house!” I blurted it out so quickly I wasn’t even sure Kami understood me.

  “Come again?” she asked.

  “When we were at Kent’s house, he offered to buy us a home.”

  “So, when’s the move-in date?”

  “What?”

  “When the hell are you guys moving so Matt and I can come help? Because I know you aren’t stupid enough to turn down a house.”

  The look I gave her caused her to groan, and she sank back into the couch.

  “Are you serious? Paige, it’s a fucking house. I know that would help you guys out financially. This place is probably robbing you blind because of its location alone, and I know you want a family.”

  “So, you think we should take the house?” I asked.

  “Are you seriously asking me that question? Of course, you should take the house. A mortgage is the single greatest income sucker of any family’s life. Someone’s offering to alleviate that for you. What’s the issue?”