The Billionaire's Fake Fiancée

by Simone Rivers

  “How are you two lovebirds doing today?”

  “Perfectly well,” Riker says as he wraps an arm around my shoulder. “I couldn’t ask for anything better.”

  “And how about you, Jane?” Dortha asks.

  “I’m doing well too,” I repeat, though my throat feels dry. Fortunately, there’s a glass of water on the table in between us, so I take a small sip from it.

  “Wonderful!” Dortha claps her hands. “Now tell me, Jane, how has life changed for you now that you’re with Riker Lord?”

  “It’s, well, pretty crazy,” I answer, and before I continue, Dortha cuts me off by saying, “I’m sure it is! How crazy do you think the wedding will be?”

  My cheeks heat up with the thought of that, and Riker takes over by saying, “It’s a bit early for that, but we definitely want it to be a splendid occasion.”

  “How many guests do you think you’ll have?” Dortha now asks.

  “Oh hundreds of course,” Riker says without hesitation. “The more, the merrier.”

  “Fabulous!” Dortha claps her hands again. “Now, I’d like to ask some fun questions if you don’t mind. First, what movie genres do you watch together?”

  Riker and I pass quick glances, we haven’t watched any movies together, but Riker answers,

  “Action and adventure…with porn, of course.”

  “Oooh,” Dortha squeals and taps her heels into the floor. I want to cover my face from embarrassment, but I keep a straight face.

  “Regular romance too,” I answer plainly.

  “Yeah, that too.” Riker nods.

  “You two have good tastes.” Dortha winks at us. “What do you two like to do in your spare time?”

  “Jane likes to bail me out of jail,” Riker chuckles and everyone laughs, especially Dortha. She laughs exactly like a hyena.

  “Yeah,” I say when the audience calms down, but Dortha takes about a minute or two to compose herself. She fans herself as if it has gotten hot, but I’m the one who’s sweating from nerves.

  “Alright,” Dortha clears her throat, “what do you two say to each other once you wake up in the morning?”

  “I tell her to make me coffee,” Riker jokes, and I pass him a brief look of annoyance. The audience laughs, and when they calm, Riker corrects himself by saying, “I’m kidding, I tell her ‘good morning, beautiful.’”

  The audience is floored by those words, and Dortha covers her mouth.

  “That is beautiful,” she breathes, “how about you, Jane?”

  I shrug. “I tell him ‘good morning’ and go back to sleep.”

  The audience laughs again, and Dortha nods with approval.

  “I did the same with my exes,” Dortha says and adds, “What do you two enjoy having for breakfast?”

  “I like eggs benedict with a side of turkey sausage and toast,” Riker answers.

  “Cereal for me,” I say briefly, I never have time for a big breakfast.

  “Mmm.” Dortha nods. “So, I know it’s still early, but any ideas for the honeymoon? Where might you be going?”

  “We haven’t thought of a place yet,” Riker says, “though I would love to go to Italy.”

  “Ah, Italy,” Dortha dreamily sighs, “one of my exes took me there once…and then left me. Anyways, what is your perfect Sunday?”

  A moment of awkward silence looms until Riker clears his throat and answers, “Lying in bed with the love of my life.” He pulls me closer to him, and my cheeks heat up.

  “And you, Jane?” Dortha leans in with excitement in her eyes. There’s excitement in everyone’s eyes, intensifying the tension in my body. So, I blurt out, “I like staying in with Riker too.”

  Everyone is once again floored by my words, and Dortha takes the opportunity to ask more questions than I think was intentional. I lose count of how many. At first, I thought I was getting the hang of this, but with all this attention as the questions keep coming and coming, I’m not sure how much I can handle it. Now my mind turns to Nia as I wonder when I can see her again.

  11

  Riker

  As soon as the cameras quite rolling, Jane is off the couch and running from the set. Her long legs move quickly, as if she’s being chased by a horde of brain-eating zombies. Her lips are pursed into a tense line, and her fists are clenched so tight I almost expect her bones to pop through the smooth, dark skin that’s stretched taut along her knuckles. My dick twitches just thinking about what those hands are capable, but I know this isn’t the time.

  “Jane, wait,” I run after her, hooking my fingers around her elbow and pulling gently. “What’s going on?” I’m genuinely confused. I thought the interview went great.

  “This is never going to work, Riker.” She’s shaking her head adamantly, as if the motion itself will make her words truer.

  “What are you talking about?” I place one hand on each of her shoulders and squeeze softly as I peer down into her warm chocolate gaze. “We did great.”

  “This isn’t a good idea. We know nothing about each other. Look at the way we answered those questions. We’re not compatible at all. How long do you honestly believe we can fool people for?” She lets out a frustrated breath.

  “What do you mean, not compatible? There’s so much chemistry sizzling between us that, if someone lit a match, we would probably both combust.” She starts to shake her head. “You can’t deny it.” My voice is determined. I’m not ready to let her walk away just yet.

  She sighs as if in defeat. “I won’t deny that there is something…physical between us, some kind of attraction. Perhaps under different circumstances, I might want to examine it closer, but physical attraction doesn’t make us compatible. It sure doesn’t mean that we know each other.”

  “Semantics,” I say.

  “Our lives are too different.” She insists. “You caused a scene in a casino by throwing an obscene amount of money in poker chips all over the place. You were arrested. You have no sense of responsibility. You just do and say whatever you want, whenever you want.”

  “Wait a minute,” I try to cut in, but she’s on a roll, now.

  “I have responsibilities. I don’t have a lot of money, but I do well enough, and I work hard for what I have. I don’t have the luxury to just walk away whenever I feel like a change. I have...” She stops short, and a look crosses her face that I can’t quite understand. It’s almost like guilt or uncertainty, but I can’t be sure. Whatever it is, it only lasts a moment before she smooths out her features.

  “We just don’t know anything about each other,” she says flatly.

  I can feel her pulling away, and something inside me threatens to come loose. A deep ache churns in the center of my chest at the thought of not being with her. Whatever this is that’s simmering between us, every cell in my body is screaming at me to hold on to it.

  “I know one way we can fix that,” I say.

  “Ho…”

  My lips crash against hers before she can even finish the word. I take advantage of her mouth being open, mid “how,” and delve in, licking, caressing, tasting. She tastes like warm cookies on a cold winter day.

  She stands frozen, stunned, hands hanging slack at her sides. I wrap one hand low around her waist, pressing her lower half against my ever-growing erection. Moving my other hand up, I cup her cheek. And then…she comes alive.

  Her hands go around my neck and she angles her head, allowing me deeper access into the sweet warmth of her mouth. Her tongue moves against mine, twisting, tangling, fighting for control. She runs her fingers along the nape of my neck, her long nails sending a trail of desire surging down my spine. My dick throbs, growing thick and heavy.

  She slides her hands down my back and grips my ass, pressing me from behind as she grinds her pelvis against the hard length of my cock. I break from her mouth and trail wet steamy kisses down along her collarbone. Her breathing grows rapid, and her breasts rise and fall in quick succession.

  I wrap a hand around one swollen peak, kn
eading the firm mound. I can feel her nipple pebble into a hard nub through the thin fabric of her blouse. She moans deep in her throat, and the sound sends molten heat coursing through my veins. It pools deep at the base of my cock.

  I haven’t come from dry humping since I was a pimply teenager, and I’m not about to start doing it now. I need to find a place where I can get inside of her before the whole studio realizes what’s going on. I bring my mouth back to hers, kissing her deeply.

  “We need to take this somewhere more private,” I tell her through panting breaths.

  She looks up at me, and the desire in her eyes nearly breaks me. I have never wanted a woman as badly as I want Jane, right here, right now. I mold my mouth to hers, sucking and licking, positive that no amount of time with her will ever be enough.

  “Riker! Jane!” Someone calls.

  There’s a flurry of motion from one end of the hallway and flashing lights glare across the ceiling and walls. The press has found us.

  “Oh my god!” Jane exclaims as a splash of scarlet paints itself high across her cheeks. She buries her head against my chest, causing her black hair to brush across my chin. The scent of jasmine and honeysuckle wafts upward, tickling my nose.

  “No comment!” I shout, gripping on to Jane’s hand and pulling her down the hallway towards the studio exits. The press is hot on our heels, shouting questions and snapping pictures.

  We maneuver through the halls, past offices, and into the lobby. The security guards at the desk hear the commotion and rush over. They let us through and then block off the rest of the crowd so that we can make our escape. One guard leads us out a side entrance and into the alley next to the studio where it seems to be quiet, for now anyway.

  “Those pictures are going to be everywhere,” Jane shouts. “Pictures of you and me…oh my god! I need to get home to…I need to go.”

  “Everything is going to be fine,” I assure her. “We weren’t doing anything wrong. Everyone thinks we’re engaged. Getting caught in a hot and heavy make-out session, as an engaged couple, isn’t the end of the world.”

  “But,” she’s struggling for words. “People are going to see those pictures of us. You had your hand…you have a…” she looks pointedly at my still semi-hard cock.

  “Look,” I begin. “Go home, take a bath, think of me.”

  I smirk, “Relax. This will blow over. By tomorrow, the press will be too busy speculating on what designer will be making your wedding dress to remember what happened back there.” I toss a look towards the building we just rushed from.

  She doesn’t look convinced, but she lets me hail a cab for her, kiss her softly on the lips, and tell her that I’ll catch up with her later. As I watch the cab pull away from the curb, I can’t help feeling like there’s something that I’m missing, something that Jane isn’t telling me. I don’t understand why the press taking our picture is so upsetting to her.

  I know she isn’t used to that kind of attention, but the whole point of her pretending to be my fiancé is to clean up my reputation. Wouldn’t people question the story more if we weren’t caught displaying that kind of affection towards each other?

  12

  Jane

  I’m in the kitchen with Nia when my phone rings. “I have to take this call, sweetie, it’s my boss. Finish up your snack and then go brush your teeth.”

  “Okay, mom.” She looks at me suspiciously. She’s been watching me warily since I arrived home after the interview. She was at school during the initial airing time, but if she’s had the tv on at all today, it’s entirely possible that she heard something on replay.

  I’ve been waiting for her to bring it up, not wanting to divulge too much too soon. But if she doesn’t, I’ll have to be the one to broach the subject. She and I don’t keep secrets from each other. Of course, she’s so young, and I’ve never had anything like this that’s made me uncertain of what to say to her. A fake engagement! My God, how do you explain that to a child?

  Closing my bedroom door, I answer the call just before it clicks over to voicemail. I can only imagine the damage that would do to my career. “Good evening, Terry. How’s everything going?” I don’t even try to disguise the hesitancy in my voice.

  “Jane, this is a brilliant stroke of genius,” she exclaims, her voice spiking to shrill levels. I hold the phone away from my ear. Call me crazy, but I’m rather fond of my sense of hearing. “I don’t know how you managed to get Riker to propose to you, but it’s absolutely what was needed.”

  I cringe inwardly, because, of course, she would think someone like me would have had to convince Riker to agree to do this. I don’t try to correct her by telling her it was Riker’s idea. She would never believe it, anyway. “What do you mean,” I ask, unsure of why exactly she thinks this was such a good idea. “The interview was a mess.”

  “Oh no! Definitely not! It’s working perfectly! I just got off the phone with Harvey Harrison, Riker’s PR manager. The entire world is going crazy over this engagement! People love it!”

  “You’re kidding me?” I’m shocked. I know that Riker thought it went well, but really, how could anyone believe such nonsense?

  “This is a fabulous win for the firm. Keep it up, and you’ll be on the fast track to making partner,” she promises.

  All Terry cares about is winning. She doesn’t give a rat’s ass about my feelings or how this is affecting my life. She surely doesn’t care about how it will affect my daughter when she finds out. I can’t stop myself from voicing my opinion to her, even though common sense is demanding that I don’t.

  “Terry, I really don’t think this is going to work. Riker and I are just entirely too different. We’re not even on the same spectrum as far as lifestyles go, and his self-righteous holier than thou attitude…”

  “You are going to continue with this,” she cuts me off. “I don’t care if you actually have to marry the son of a bitch in a ceremony that’s broadcast to the entire world. This is exactly the kind of thing that we’re being paid to do.”

  She pauses and takes a deep breath before driving the nail into my coffin. “Riker is the most important client that Ellis and Partners has ever had. If you want to keep your reputation intact, and continue on with the firm, you will do this. Get him out of the trouble that he’s in, at any cost. If you can do that, I will make you partner. Do we understand one another?”

  I’m reluctant to agree, but can’t stop the words from forming across my tongue. “Yes, Terry.” I keep my voice steady as turmoil wars through me. I don’t want to continue with this absurd charade. I don’t want it to end in a public blow out of humility and pain or for Nia to be trapped in the wreckage when it finally comes to an excruciating end.

  Sinking onto the bed, my body feels heavy, weighted down by a responsibility that should never have been dropped so squarely on my shoulders. My phone slides from my fingers and makes a muffled thump as it hits the carpeted floor at my feet. I should have told her no, should have just let her fire me and walked away with my head held high.

  There are other jobs out there. Other firms that I’m more than qualified to join. But none of them hold the same power that Ellis and Partners does, and if I walk away, I can’t be certain that any of the other firms would be willing to take me.

  There’s no doubt in my mind that Terry would make sure that if I left, it would be with a questionable reputation trailing behind me. Inappropriate relationship with a client, refusing to keep the interest of the firm and the clients a priority. Even if it was just speculation, there wouldn’t be anyone willing to take that kind of chance on me.

  A soft knock sounds against the other side of my bedroom door just before the knob turns, and Nia peeks her head in. I smooth out my features and plaster a grin across my face. “What’s up, baby girl?”

  “Is there something going on, mom?” She doesn’t hesitate. “You’ve been acting kind of weird ever since you got home.”

  She’s definitely not holding anything back, now,
as she pushes the door all the way open and walks over to where I sit on the bed. I search her face for some sign that she knows what I’m hiding from her, but all I see is genuine concern. Maybe she actually didn’t watch TV today, or if she did, she must not have seen anything about Riker and me.

  “Just a rough day at the office.” I sigh. “Hey, guess what?” I ask, essentially deflecting her line of questioning.

  “What?” she asks.

  I pat the bed next to where I’m sitting. She hops up and snuggles warmly into my side. “I love you, so, so much! Did you know that?”

  “Yes,” she grins, “but really, how could you not? I’m, like, the perfect kid.”

  I tickle her side and she keels over in a fit of giggles. “You think so, do you?” I laugh.

  “Yes!” Her high-pitched squeals resonate through the room.

  “Maybe pretty close,” I say, pulling her into my lap and hugging her tight. I lean my face into the thick curls of her black hair, breathing in the scent of warm honey and sweet wisteria. She wraps her arms around me and hugs me back. How did I get so lucky to have such an awesome kid? I wonder.

  She slides off my lap, her breath coming in spurts from the excursion of our tickle session. “I love you, too, mom.” A sly grin spreads across her face. “You know,” she says cleverly, “I wasn’t kidding when I said you needed to date more men. You never go out.”

  “Maybe you should just let me worry about that,” I respond with a laugh. “You can just worry about being a kid. Besides, what would I need a man for, anyway? I’ve got you, that’s enough.”

  “Yeah, for now, but what happens when I go off to college, or when I get married and have a family of my own? I won’t always be here,” she says sagely. “You need some love in your life, so you won’t be alone when I’m gone.”

  “Since when did you become such a little grown-up?” I don’t want to let her see just how profoundly her words affect me. She’s too smart for her own good.