His Love
The Billionaire's BBW
Book 2
* * *
Bella B. Wilde
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events reside solely in the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual people, alive or dead, is purely coincidental. All characters are eighteen years of age or older.
©2019, BELLA B. WILDE. No portion of this work can be reproduced in any way without the prior written consent fron the author with the exception for a fair use excerpt for review and editorial purposes.
This title is for adults only. It contains explicit sex acts, adult themes, and material some folks might find offensive.
For permissions, complaints, or just queries, contact: [email protected]
Contents
* * *
1 | Blake
2 | Zoe
3 | Blake
4 | Zoe
5 | Blake
6 | Zoe
7 | Blake
8 | Zoe
9 | Blake
10 | Zoe
Friday Night | Blake
One Year Later | Zoe
Before You Go...
Also by Bella B. Wilde
1
Blake
* * *
It’s pretty easy to spot Eric and his wife the moment I step into the restaurant. They’re the couple so in love, so wrapped up in each other, that the whole place could empty and they wouldn’t even notice.
“Sorry to interrupt, the third wheel has arrived,” I interject, having to pull Eric’s attention away from his wife's phone as she flicks through pictures of nurseries, his hand resting on her pregnant stomach.
“Oh, Blake, sorry,” he laughs, getting up for us to share a handshake and a hug. “It’s been so long, I didn’t even see you walk in.”
“I’m not surprised,” I say as I nod to his wife, Jessa, shaking her hand.
“Sit, sit, it's going to be good to catch up!” Eric ushers me into a seat as he sits. It’s been a while since Eric and I have even been in the same city long enough to catch up. While he’s spent most of his adult life crisscrossing the world in search of the next big business opportunity, I’ve been settled in New York, building my brand and working on my magazine, Substyle.
But now Eric has found a reason to come back home again, and honestly, I couldn’t be happier for the guy. The two of them spend every spare second looking at one another, touching, holding hands. It’s almost too adorable.
As dinner arrives and the conversation meanders back and forth between work, life, work, and life, Eric finally settles on the question I can tell he’s been dying to ask all night. “So, come on Blake, what’s going on with you? Still no girlfriend yet?”
I scoff, dismissing his comment away. “Ah, come on Eric, you know what it’s like. You and I were always the same with this kind of thing – work comes first.”
He settles back into his seat, placing his hand on his wife's stomach again. “Yeah, maybe, before I met the right girl.” They share another loved–up smile. “You just gotta open yourself up. Take some time away from work. I mean, I got lucky. Found this one waiting for me behind the bar.” He points towards Jessa with his thumb, and she gives him a quick elbow in the ribs.
“No, it’s not that,” I shake my head, “I just don’t want to meet the right girl right now. If settling down was a priority, then yeah, no problem. I’ve just got too much going on right now. And unlike you, I don’t have girls who are just my type waiting for me back at work.”
“Oh please,” Eric returns the gesture, shaking his head too and laughing. “You’re so focused on that magazine that the right girl could be sitting under your nose and you wouldn’t even notice. I bet there is someone in your life already and you’re just too stubborn to admit it.” He never could back down from winning an argument. It was one of the things we clashed over that ultimately brought us to be such good friends in college.
I take a moment to roll my eyes and think over my response as I take a drink, but Eric has come up with an idea before I get a chance. I know that look on his face. He’s about to drag me into trouble again.
“Actually… There’s an idea. Why don’t we make it a bet? If you say you could meet the right girl if you wanted to, then why not? I bet you can’t find yourself a real, genuine date by Friday night.”
I scoff. There he goes again. “You hearing this, Jessa?” I motion towards his wife, who just laughs. “You want me to find a girl and fall in love by Friday night?”
Eric holds his hands up defensively. “I didn’t say ‘fall in love’, did I? No, I just mean you find yourself a girl who likes you, who actually knows you, not just some random hook–up. You claim it’s so easy, so do it.”
I chew over the proposition in my mind for a moment, a plan already beginning to form. “Okay… Okay then. Say I do find a date, what do I get out of it?”
“A week – better yet, a month – in any hotel of your choosing. Everything paid for, the penthouse suite, the whole package.” Despite both of us becoming billionaire’s in our own right, it always came down to something monetary for Eric. He would always wager a little bit of what he’d worked for.
I nod to myself, unable to resist smirking as I think of how easy this will be. “Okay then. You’ve got yourself a deal. Maybe I’ll use it for my honeymoon with this great girl I’m gonna bring to dinner.”
“Please, be my guest. I can’t wait to meet her.”
2
Zoe
* * *
I know I should be focused on work. I know I shouldn’t be wondering where my boss might have gone for dinner. A silly, jealous part of me imagines him sat on a romantic lunch date, some tall blonde with legs for days all over him as he whispers sweet nothings in her ear.
Sigh.
Five years of working for Blake Argent hasn’t exactly done anything to help my little crush – if it’s even fair to call it that, at this point. It’s silly, and I should learn to move on unless I want to end up married to my job like he is. There’s never been anything romantic between us; never even been hinted at. He held my hand, once, at a New Year’s Eve party almost five years ago as a gesture of friendship and comfort, and I’ve obsessed over what I can remember of that night ever since. Getting drunk probably didn’t help my cause, not that I had a chance in the first place.
We’re so different, for starters. I know most people see me as one of the quiet girls; the straight–laced, buttoned–up type. Because I wear glasses, have curves, and keep my hair in a top knot, they think they know me. And Blake is the tall, handsome, confident guy. He can command any room he walks into and has people tripping over themselves to please him. Combine that with getting to know the side of him that few people do, and I know it would be impossible for me to move on while still working here.
Not that I even want to. Landing the job at Substyle was a dream come true. I majored in Journalism and always had this one magazine in mind. Since I was 15, I’ve poured over the glossy pages, the clean and stylish magazine spreads, and I’ve always admired Blake’s artistic direction and strict adherence to his tagline, ‘style and substance, together’.
Which is why I would never dream of letting my feelings for my boss get in the way of work. I’ve come to earn his trust, and I feel confident knowing how much Blake values me as his secretary. He’s always said that the job was different before I came along, but I know he’s just trying to stay in my good books.
“Oh, come on!” The voice from in front of me startles me from my daydream as I lift my head from resting on my hand. “How many times have I told you, Zoe? You need to get over it, it’s never going to happen.”
I roll my eyes at Samantha as she hands me a portfolio for Blake to see. She�
�s become my only other real friend in the office, and she’s the only person who knows about my all–consuming–crush on Blake, and she never shies away from telling me how much she disapproves. “I wasn’t! I was just tired. There hasn’t been much to do around here this afternoon.
“Oh, please. I know that look,” she wags her finger in my face. She loves it when she’s right. “You know what Blake is like. He’s too private, too dedicated to his job to take the time out to date. Which is why you should come with me on Friday night. Speed–dating. It’ll help take your mind of Mr. Emotionally Unavailable.”
I shake my head with a laugh, but she doesn’t budge. “Okay, fine. If I agree, does that mean you’ll leave me alone and go back to your job?”
She squeals and claps her hands together. I know inviting me speed–dating is just an excuse for her to have a back up if things end in disaster, which, with Sam, they usually do. “Oh, I knew you wouldn’t let me down. I’ll pick you up. And dress nice!” She motions up and down towards my outfit as she walks away.
“This is office wear, Sam! You ought to try it some time!” She gives me the finger without turning back, and I groan as I lean into my chair. Speed–dating? Really? I’m already dreading it.
3
Blake
* * *
I’m not exactly looking forward to the idea of telling Zoe she needs to come on a fake date with me. I’ve always made sure to keep some distance between us, emotionally. Though she’s easily my closest confidant and one of my best friends, I promised not to make things awkward between us years ago, and have since stuck to my promise.
“Zo, could I talk to you for a minute?” I quietly poked my head around my door, not wanting to attract anyone else’s attention. She nods with wide eyes, following me into my office, already begging to rattle off a list of calls, emails, and meetings I have to attend to.
I shake my head, holding a hand up. “No, it’s not a work thing. I… need a favor. A personal favor.”
She stops, narrowing her eyes as she eyes me suspiciously. “This better not be another uncle thing. I am not helping any more nieces with art projects. I swear I was picking glitter out of my hair for months.”
I laugh as I remember the incident in question. It only serves to remind me how loyal she is, that nothing is ever too much trouble, and it eases my worrying over what I’m about to ask. “I would like to ask you on a date.”
Her head pulls back with surprise, eyes widening. “A date? Like, a date–date?”
“No! Oh, god, let me explain,” I bury my head in my hands when I see that almost horrified look on her face. “It’s stupid, I know… But a friend, an old college friend, we go way back… He bet me that I couldn’t find a date by Friday night. We have this stupid competitive thing, always have done. It would just be for one night, and it wouldn’t mean anything, I promise. And you’re welcome to say no, of course…”
Zoe cuts off my rambling as she laughs, shaking her head. “Okay.” She says, simply.
“Oh, I knew I could rely on you!” I give an exaggerated sigh of relief, planting a playful kiss on the top of her head. “It’s Eric, he’s an idiot. He thinks I’m going to end up completely alone and that I’m incapable of loving.”
Zoe looks me up and down slowly, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “But, I mean, he’s right…” She shrugs, and I laugh. She’s the only one around here comfortable enough to talk to me like that to my face, and it’s one of the many things I treasure about her. “But how do you expect to pull this off? Given that, you know, we aren’t dating.”
“Well, we’ll need to sort out your look, first of all.” I’m only teasing her, of course. There’s nothing wrong with the way Zoe looks, but I know that if I take her in her usual attire, Eric’s going to be able to tell I’ve just dragged my secretary along.
“What’s wrong with my look?” She asks, folding her arms across her chest.
“Nothing, nothing. It’s just… you kinda look like a secretary. Not going to lie.” She looks down over herself as she chews the corner of her lip, and I have to avoid doing the same. Zoe’s a good looking girl, that’s for sure, but I don’t want to be a creep about it.
“Fine. You can take me shopping. And yes, you – you’re palming this job off on some paid stylist or whatever. If you want this date, Mr. Argent, you’re going to have to earn it. I want this done properly.”
“Then it looks like it’s a date.” She sets a folder down on my desk, rolling her eyes as she walks away, before turning back at the last second.
She puts on a fake seductive voice, running her hand up the door frame as I try to keep from laughing. I love how I’m the only one she acts silly around at work. “Oh, and, Blake…” She bats her eyelids slowly. “You should know, I don’t sleep with guys on the first date.”
Suddenly, something shifts in my pants, and there’s a lump in my throat when she puts that idea in my head. God, what am I letting myself in for?
4
Zoe
* * *
Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.
Why did I just do that?
I slump down with my head in my hands when I reach my desk. Sure, on the one hand, I always feel comfortable around Blake. But pretending to seduce my boss while telling him I won’t sleep with him – that’s perhaps a little too comfortable.
The whole thing is a bad idea. A fake date so that he can win a bet? I should know better by now. I should know not to put my heart in harm's way like that. But when Blake asks me to do something, I just can’t say no. Besides, what do I have to worry about? I know nothing is going to happen. He knows nothing is going to happen. So why does the thought of spending an evening with him send a shiver down my spine?
But the shopping trip, too. I’ve never been much of a girly girl, and I’m still worrying over the thought of having to try on dresses and heels when Blake emerges from his office hours later.
“So, ready to go all Pretty Woman on New York?” He says, having ditched his tie and swapped out his suit and shirt for a clean looking leather jacket and a black cotton t–shirt. How does he manage to look so good in just about everything?
I give him a puzzled look though as I grab my purse and stand. “Pretty Woman?”
“You know, like in the film. When she’s trying on all the outfits for Richard Gere?” I shake my head at him, still clueless. “Julia Roberts is a prostitute and they fall in love? No?”
“No,” I laugh, as he walks me to the elevator. “Romance films aren’t my sort of thing.”
“Well, don’t worry,” he leans in, lowering his voice since we’re not alone in the elevator. “I’ve got more money than him, so I can promise you’ll end up looking better than an ex–hooker.”
I have to cover my mouth to keep from laughing too loud, and I can see Blake’s shoulders bouncing up and down as he chuckles to himself, much to the annoyance of our company.
And just like that, I’m not so worried about our trip anymore.
***
Our first stop is a salon, and I can see the girl inside practically jumps up from her desk when she sees Blake approaching through the glass storefront. It’s the kind of place I would never dream of visiting, with white marble floors and counters throughout, and each stylist sporting a wildly different, yet equally flattering haircut.
“I already called ahead, they know you’re with me.” He says as he begins undoing the bun on top of my head, before flicking the hairband into the street. “No more top knots. These people will take good care of you. I’ve just got some calls to make.”
“Uh, excuse me, I thought you were coming with me?”
“I am,” he says, matter–of–factly. “I’m coming back. But I’ve got things to sort out while you get your hair done.” He kisses me on top of the head again before waving me into the store, a little thing he always does that he knows will help him get his way.
I have stylists fluttering around me and a glass of champagne thrust into my hand the
second I’m in the salon. I have to admit, it feels nice to get this sort of treatment for a change. They sit me down and quickly get to work fanning my hair across my back, lifting strands here and there as they whisper between themselves.
“Don’t worry, honey. Blake’s a good friend of ours. And you’ve got beautiful hair, so you’re definitely in the right place.”
“How, uh, how do you know him?” I ask, admittedly a little jealous. The woman stood behind me in the mirror is a tall, sophisticated brunette, definitely a lot closer to Blake’s age than I am, so I can’t help wondering if she’s an ex.
“Oh, Blake’s a sweetheart. We know each other from way back. He featured this place in his magazine when we were struggling, and well,” she gestures around the salon, which honestly could just as easily pass for an art gallery, “Look at us now.”
I smile and sigh as she puts my mind at ease. “It is gorgeous in here. I could never afford this kind of place myself.”
“Well, you don’t gotta worry now, with a man like Blake to take care of you.” My cheeks grow bright red as I press my lips together, stuck for what to say. Thankfully, I needn’t worry, as she’s soon lost in thought, and all I’m left to do is relax and be pampered.
Maybe this fake date wasn’t such a bad idea after all. At least I’ll get a little make–over out of it, even if the evening itself does turn out to be a total disaster.
5
Blake
* * *
I’m stood just inside the entrance to the salon for a full minute, focused on my phone, before I get a tap on the shoulder and find myself doing a real–life doubletake. There is Zoe, stood in front of me, and I hardly even recognize her at first.
“Wow, Zo…” It’s the best I can muster as she gives me a twirl, brushing her hair over one shoulder. Her red hair is lifted with some natural–looking and well–placed highlights, cut just right to frame her face and highlight her cheekbones.
His Love Page 1