Mr. Hired Boss (Alphalicious Billionaires Boss Book 4)

by Lindsey Hart

  Great, not great. This is a shit way to start this talk. I summon up what little courage and fortitude I have left and walk into the room like I don’t just have a massive burden I want to get off my chest (maybe burden isn’t the right word). There’s something there. Something huge and heavy. It felt good in the car. It felt right. Now, it just feels scary. I’m going to be putting myself out there in a big way, and I’ve learned from past experiences just how much rejection can hurt.

  “Uh…” I drop down hard on the couch. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about. Sorry I just disappeared. I needed to go for a drive. Think about things. Make sure I knew what I wanted to say.”

  “Alright.”

  There’s something wrong with Gabriel’s face. It’s his eyes or something. I don’t know. He just looks different—anything but receptive. My gut is telling me it’s not the right time to ask this, but I’m not sure if there’s ever going to be a right time, or if I’ll get another chance if I don’t take this one, so I blurt out what I need to say.

  “I know we said no strings. I…I know this wasn’t supposed to go like this, but it wasn’t just the sex. Let me be clear about that.” So, so smooth. “Uh, yeah. No. It wasn’t just that. It’s everything. I’ve just felt weird since the first time I met you, and I know I said I want to stay single, and you want to stay single, but I just keep feeling like there’s something there. I know there’s something there. Chemistry or whatever. I don’t know what it’s called. God, I suck at this. At romance. At all of it. But I need you to know how I feel. I feel like taking a chance on this would be worth it. I feel like we’re good together, and I want more time. I don’t want to let you go tomorrow. I want to see you again. I know it makes me sound crazy and needy and everything, but I…I mean it.”

  And my outpouring is met with some pretty heavy silence.

  And more silence.

  Still more.

  “Are you going to say something?” I choke. “I’m sorry. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I just…it’s how I feel. I get it if you don’t want to. I…I just had to tell you, or I’d regret it. I couldn’t just let you walk away without seeing first if maybe you felt something too.”

  “Felt something? Yeah.” Gabriel nods, but he doesn’t look happy. “I felt something.” He looks annoyed. This wasn’t exactly the reaction I was expecting. I’ll admit that in my mind, I’d convinced myself that he’d be for this. That he’d say he felt it too, and he’d give us a chance. Or that he’d at least want to hang out.

  I know that just a few days ago, I had convinced myself that I wanted to be single for life, but I guess when I make up my mind about something, one way or the other, I guess I really make it up. Because now I’m convinced about the exact opposite. That I want this chance, I want Gabriel. It’s not just my brain telling me this. It’s the soft, sappy spot in my chest that I’ve tried very hard to tamp down these past few years. Apparently, it survived—big time.

  “I…you did?”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “But you don’t want to give it a chance? Because of what happened in the past? I get it. I’ve been cheated on. God, I’ve been used too. I’ve had such shitty experiences that it ruined me on giving it a try again. I thought it did. But then I met you, and now I know I’m not wrecked. I know this is a lot. I know I probably seem extra crazy, given that you’re here because I basically hired you to be my fake boyfriend, but—”

  “But you want to try. You want to see where this could go because you feel the connection you were talking about.”

  I nod slowly. “Yes. That’s…I…okay, you don’t look normal. I can tell you’re angry about it. I…if you don’t want to, I understand. I know I’m constantly changing my mind, and it must be seriously annoying.”

  “And when did you first start feeling this way?”

  “I…I don’t know. I guess from when we went for coffee? Or…I…maybe it was from the first word we spoke to each other. Maybe it was the car ride here, or that first day together, or that first night. Or today? I can’t just pick a time. I just, I just know.”

  “That’s very convenient.”

  “Excuse me?” This is so not going in the right direction. Gabriel is looking more and more pissed, but the tight, constipated look on his face is completely at odds with the actual words coming out of his mouth.

  “Did you feel that way before or after you found out who I am?” He shifts slightly and produces my phone from the back pocket of his jeans. “I came downstairs, and you weren’t in the house. Your phone was on the table. I wasn’t trying to be weird and check up on you, but I thought maybe there was an emergency, and you’d run out. I thought if there really was an emergency, there’d be a call or a text that recently came in. I was worried. That was it. Instead, when I flicked open the screen, I found an article. About. Me.”

  Shit. Fuck. No.

  “I…I did find out. But so what? It did freak me out, and I called Dean because I needed to talk to someone. He was in on this plan with me, so I needed to tell him. It did scare me because I thought who the hell would agree to this plan if they have tons of money and don’t need anymore. I don’t know—I kind of panicked. I talked with Dean, dropped him off at his house, and came back here. He calmed me down. I guess I was really freaking out because I came downstairs to think. After…we…well, anyway. I came down to think about what I was feeling Because I wasn’t feeling normal. I didn’t feel like I wanted this to end. And then I looked you up. I don’t know why. Maybe because I wanted to creep you on social media. I don’t know. People look up people they’re into. That’s all it was. When I found out about who you were, which was the last thing I was expecting, yeah, I panicked. So I talked to Dean. I got it sorted out. Even he could tell that I was…argh…god. I don’t want to say falling for you because it sounds so stupid, but it’s true. I am. And it has nothing to do with that.” I point at my phone. My finger is shaking, but I keep it extended.

  Gabriel makes no move to hand it back, and I don’t make a move to take it back.

  We stare each other down in some freaking staring contest I’d rather not be involved in.

  “You don’t believe me?” I feel like I’m going to suffocate just asking that question. My lungs are on fire even though I’m currently forcing air into them.

  “Honestly, no. But it’s not your fault. Other people poisoned the well long before you arrived. I’m sorry, I just can’t. I can’t take that chance. I can’t risk it because it’s not just me who would suffer. It’s my businesses, my assets, my employees, my family, and other people who are connected to me. It’s a big chain, and I’m not going down that road again.”

  “I’d sign something. Anything. A contract that says I couldn’t touch any of it. Ever. What are those things called? A prenup? Wait, no, that’s for weddings. But there must be something for just regular dating.”

  Gabriel sighs. He looks like he wants to believe me now, but there’s this hard edge to his face that is also saying he just can’t get there.

  “And I’d pay my own way. You wouldn’t have to give me a single cent. I would never expect you to take me places, and you wouldn’t even have to buy me dinner. I have my own business. I might be self-employed, but I’m doing okay. I’m proud to be able to support myself, and I don’t need a guy to pay my way. That’s not what this is about.”

  “Pearl—”

  “No! I know what you’re feeling. I know it sucks to be hurt. I know exactly what it feels like and how long it takes to get over it and how it makes you never want to take a chance on anything again. Dean told me that by not telling you how I felt, I’d be letting them win—all the assholes who hurt me, who decided to just walk all over me. He made me see that some risks are worth taking.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “I know. No one can, but not taking a risk isn’t really living at all, is it?”

  “Unless you’re happy living the way you are, which I am. I’ve made my peace with it.
Having money makes you different. It makes you a target for most people. My brother dragged me to the club because he said I never had any fun. He was right. I’ve had a great time here. With you. With your family. I could just be me, and no one thought any different. But now that you know, it would be different. It would be very different, and I just can’t deal with that.”

  “Different how?”

  “I just can’t.”

  “Don’t you feel like you’re taking the easy way out?”

  “This isn’t easy.” Gabriel leans forward and sets my phone on the coffee table.

  I whirl around so he can’t see my face. I’m going to lose it. God, I’m going to freaking lose it. The tears are going to come out. My throat is burning, and my nose is twitching. Maybe the ugly crying will come out too.

  The only way things could get any worse is if my parents were here.

  Which, right on cue, they are. The front door creaks open, and my mom’s laughter floods the house. I brace for impact because they’re only a few steps away. The seconds tick by. Agonizing, too long, yet somehow not long enough at all. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

  “Pearl?” It’s Dad.

  “What’s wrong?” That’s from my Mom.

  Because yeah, the tears started before they even opened the door. I study my feet, hoping they’ll just walk on by, but of course, they don’t. I imagine they take in Gabriel’s face or posture or whatever before they look at me.

  “Did you guys have a fight?” Mom asks. “We can go…let you work it out. Come on, Fred.”

  “No!” I swipe at my tears and lift my head. God, both my parents look so horrified. So worried. So destroyed for me. “No, don’t go. You might as well know. I planned this—the whole thing. I paid him to pretend to be my boyfriend because I was so tired of being pestered about it. I thought if I could just make you happy for this weekend, Susan could have her big day, and then I would say we broke up, and it would be disappointing for you both, but you’d accept that I was going to be okay and stop asking me about being single every single time you called or texted. I was just so exhausted. I was desperate. So, I did this. And yeah, that’s it. All of it. So right now, I’m going to pack my stuff, and I’m going home. To Seattle. And I’m taking him with me because there’s no way we can stay here for another minute.”

  “What? Baby…”

  “No. Mom, please. Just…just…can we talk about this some other time? Right now, I really just need to get changed and get my stuff and go.”

  “You don’t have to drive me,” Gabriel says softly. Kind of broken. Embarrassed. Hurt. Choked. “I can find another ride.”

  “Out of here?” I snort. “With who? Dean? There aren’t any cabs or planes or even a bus. So you’re not getting out of here unless it’s with me.”

  “Maybe it would be better if I just left, and you stayed here. You’re upset. I don’t think you should drive like this.”

  “He’s right,” Dad says. Up until now, he’d been pretty silent. His face is a mask of confusion, hurt, worry, and disappointment. “You shouldn’t drive when you’re upset like this. Let Gabriel drive your car, or I can drive it. Mom will follow behind us.”

  “Seattle’s two hours away!”

  “I don’t care. We love you,” Dad says. He’s basically begging me to believe him, and it breaks my heart. “We’re sorry you felt you had to do this. We’re sorry you’re upset. We don’t want this for you. We never meant for any of this to happen.”

  “I know,” I sniff. “I know.”

  “Then stay,” Mom pleads.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t. I just can’t.” You know what else I can’t do? Look at Gabriel. I think if I do, I’ll never be able to stop crying. It’s only been a few days. Should this hurt so freaking bad?

  “I’m taking you then.” Dad’s voice brooks no room for argument. “I’ll get changed too, and we’ll go together—you and me. Gabriel can ride with Mom. We’ll make sure he gets home.”

  I want to be snarky and remind Gabriel that I still need to pay him, but that’s a low blow, and he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve for me to be mean to him or lash out at him just because he doesn’t want to change his mind. I should just grow a pair of balls big enough to accept it, not act like a child and throw a fit. This includes not telling my parents who he really is. Ever. I won’t ever tell them his last name. They’ll never know. They’ll never know how much I feel for him either—the surprising depth of it or the level of my pain. They won’t know any of it. After tonight, I won’t talk about it again.

  “Okay.” No one follows me when I leave the room.

  I’m all alone again. But then, that’s the way I wanted it, wasn’t it?

  CHAPTER 22

  Gabriel

  “You, big brother, are an idiot.”

  “That’s not very nice.” I set my beer down with a loud clunk on Sebastien’s coffee table.

  He frowns at me because the coffee table is glass. He finally convinced me to pull myself out of my own den of misery—namely, my basement—and drag my ass over to his condo. The place is a new construction. He picked it out when I offered to buy him his own place and told him he could have just about anything. It’s not my taste, but it is nice. The view is astounding, but then again, his unit happens to be just about near the top floor of a twenty-something story building. The place has some floor to ceiling glass windows that look toward downtown, and a big balcony with a glass railing beyond that.

  “It might not be, but it’s true. How could you just let her go like that?”

  “I shouldn’t have said anything.” I look longingly at the empty beer bottle, but Sebastien doesn’t offer another even though it’s hot, late, and I didn’t drive over here, anticipating that I could have a few drinks and forget about the internal cesspit I’ve had going on for the past few weeks.

  “You should have! I’m glad you told me. We’ve all been wondering why you’re even moodier and less friendly than usual. You haven’t returned any calls or texts. Mom was worried you’d freaking died. Dad kept telling her you were fine, that everyone goes through stuff once in a while. I knew it had to do with that weekend. You’ve been like that ever since, and it’s going on three weeks.”

  “It’s only been two.”

  “Two weeks and five days. It’s almost three.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Not whatever! I can’t believe her mom drove you back. She should have bitten your head off for treating her daughter like that.”

  “She didn’t know. The last thing she heard, that night at least, was how it was all fake. She was pretty quiet after that. I don’t think she knew what to say, and I wasn’t going to volunteer anything. Anyway, they drove us back instead of helping people get home to their hotels after the wedding, so they all had to stay in the hall and the house. Marnie kept getting phone calls, and she had someone organizing everyone so they could ferry them back after. They found a few other DD’s, thank god.”

  “Jesus. You fucked everything up, royally. With that girl and her family.”

  “Stop.”

  “Just saying. It’s true.”

  “You know what, Sebastien? Sometimes, things aren’t that easy. Sometimes, when someone says they’re into you, they just want a piece of you like everyone else. Sometimes, even if they don’t, and you think they might be genuine, there’s still a chance it probably won’t work out because these things just tend to go that way. You know that. Probably better than anyone else.”

  “And yet, I still keep trucking along, hoping that one day, magically, something just might be different.”

  “But, it’s usually not.”

  “No. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to give up and just stay single forever. What fun is that? Being like how you are now, all old and bitter, it’s gross. I don’t want to turn into that.”

  “I’m not old, and I’m not bitter.”

  “Says you.”

  “Thirty-two isn’t old, and if I’m war
y and cautious, I have every right to be.”

  “She was trying to tell you that she was into you. She seemed nice. She was even willing to sign whatever it took to say she couldn’t touch you or your money and everything else, so what’s the problem? It sounds like a bitterness issue to me.”

  “I’m not bitter.”

  “You have so much baggage that it’s a wonder you don’t collapse carrying it all around.”

  “We can’t all be like you and pretend that getting burned doesn’t suck, and just move on.”

  “It sucks. I never said it didn’t. And sometimes it sucks even more to move on, but what’s the alternative? Right, be like you are now. No, thanks.”

  “Can I please get another beer?” I indicate the empty bottle.

  “Nope.” Sebastien shakes his head. “It took an hour and a half to get the story about what happened out of you. Not going to give you another beer until you come up with a plan on how you’re going to fix this with Pearl. That’s a nice name, by the way. And she’s beautiful. She’d make nice babies. She’s nice too, which makes her different from anyone else you’ve dated. I really don’t think she was after your cash. She offered to pay you for the weekend charade, remember?”

  “That was before she found out I was rich.”

  “So what? If you can’t tell when people are being genuine versus when they’re being an asshat, you might be way further far gone than I thought you were.”

  “You know what? I think this was a bad idea. I’m just going to go back to moping in the basement. Thanks for the beer. And the talk. Good to see you.”

  “No way!” Sebastien leaps off the other end of the black leather couch we’ve both been sitting on. “You are not walking out of here like this! You should at least apologize to the poor girl. Or just man up and give her a chance.”

  “It’s not about manning up.”

  “I think it is. The thing is, you really are carrying around a bunch of baggage, and you need to stop. It’s not good for you, and it’s a lot of pressure on us to have to pull you out of whatever funk you get yourself into. It’s not awesome watching your brother waste his life rotting away in a basement playing around with technology because his computer is the only one who can stand him. You’re rich. You’re a billionaire. That’s great. Now start living your life and stop treating your money like it was the worst thing that happened to you. You’re the worst thing that happened to you. It’s your own fears and ego getting in the way of you being happy, not the money. People can still use you without money. Some people are dicks. It’s just that simple. Other people find a way to be happy. Mom and Dad have been together for years, and they’re happy. They make it work.”