A Fake_A Pretend Girlfriend Billionaire Romance

by Charlotte Byrd

  A Fake

  A Pretend Girlfriend Billionaire Romance

  Charlotte Byrd

  Byrd Books

  Contents

  Copyright

  About A Fake

  Chapter 1 - Tyler

  Chapter 2 - Maya

  Chapter 3 - Maya

  Chapter 4 - Maya

  Chapter 5 - Tyler

  Chapter 6 - Maya

  Chapter 7 - Tyler

  Chapter 8 - Maya

  Chapter 9 - Tyler

  Chapter 10 - Maya

  Chapter 11 - Maya

  Chapter 12 - Tyler

  Chapter 13 - Maya

  Chapter 14 - Maya

  Chapter 15 - Maya

  Chapter 16 - Tyler

  Chapter 17 - Maya

  Chapter 18 - Tyler

  Chapter 19 - Maya

  Chapter 20 - Tyler

  Chapter 21 - Tyler

  Chapter 22 - Maya

  Chapter 23 - Maya

  FREE BONUS Book! Auctioned to Him

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Get the Auctioned to Him - Deleted Scene!

  The rest of the Auctioned to Him Series

  Enjoy this book? Make a Difference!

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2017 by Charlotte Byrd

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  About A Fake

  You'll think I'm an a$$hole. I'm rich and hot and I say exactly what's on my mind. Oh yeah, I also have a huge c%ck, and I'm not afraid to use it. But after my last sex scandal hit the tabloids, the board is concerned. Most of them don't think I'm a good fit as the CEO, even though I've made them more money than they have ever dreamed of.

  * * *

  That's why when Maya Blake walked into my office and gave her clumsy presentation, I knew she'd be perfect for the job. She's quiet, curvy and polite. The opposite of every celebrity and heiress I've ever f&@cked.

  * * *

  I agree to give her the contract for doing all the interior decor for my new hotel under one condition: she comes to Vegas with me for a long weekend and pretends to be my girlfriend. No sex. Business only. Or so I thought. Little did I know that I'd start to fall for her. But am I actually capable of true love?

  Chapter 1 - Tyler

  A family friend of mine was talking about how she would never get remarried if her husband died. She said she’s had many wonderful years of being married, and is grateful for what she has. I just couldn’t understand her point of view. I found it baffling.

  I couldn’t imagine life without sex, just accepting that such an important part of my life is over. But then again, I didn’t think I could handle being married. For the same reason.

  “Take care, sexy mommas. I’ll be back in town soon” I said as I kissed Lila, and her friend on the cheek. Lila had lip gloss that had a little sweetness to it. The other woman was just plain hot and I never saw her with any makeup on.

  It was 3 a.m. and I still wasn’t tired. When I walked back into my posh apartment, it was eerily quiet. I sighed as I went over to my tall, stainless steel refrigerator and cracked open a bottle of water. I sipped as I got back to my leather couch and plopped down.

  My face was a little sore. I’m not surprised though. I spent much of the evening with one girl riding my face and the other riding my cock. God, what a night!

  I gulped some more water and thought about it some more. I took about three months before I ever asked Lila if she ever partied with other girls. Man, was I glad I did.

  I chugged the last of the water in the bottle and hurled it to my side. “I’ll just let the maid get it” I said quietly. That’s what I pay her for. I pay her well, too. She might as well earn her money.

  I padded back into my kitchen and grabbed another bottle of water. It was cool, and would be a great refresher. Now, here’s something to know about drinking. If you drink two large servings of water after drunkenness, you won’t have a hangover the next day. A hangover is essentially massive dehydration from ingesting too much alcohol, and drinking a lot of water cures that.

  I sat back down and tried to decide whether or not to go to sleep. One thing about successful business people, is that it becomes our identity. We don’t just hit an ‘off’ button at 5 p.m. and resume work the next day. Business is very cutthroat, and requires round-the-clock attention and diligence.

  I pulled out my iPhone and punched some of the buttons. Is 3 a.m. too late to focus on business? Not for me. If God didn’t program the human body to need sleep, it would never stop. Then, I could make even more money.

  I had three new emails that came in while I was…having fun. The blonde Lila took the phone away from me while we were having sex. She said she wouldn’t allow me to have distractions because I needed to orgasm. God, what a woman!

  I clicked on the envelope icon on my phone and read the first message. It was about the company, of course. My company never slept. I made it clear to my employees that I was their number one priority, and not their families. They steamrolled everything just to serve me.

  That’s how I became CEO of my company – Taylor Realty Trust. To put it in simple terms, we make and buy huge properties, and sell them at huge profits. That’s it. In many ways, it’s not hard.

  We have our strategies, of course. One of the things we do is we announce to our competitors that we’re going to be bidding on a property. We sternly warn them if they bid against us, we’ll tangle up the deal with months or even years of litigation. Then, after months of fighting and not making money, they usually either give up or lose the case.

  In return, we promise that we won’t bid on any other project in the immediate area for a year. That’s easy. There are lots of places to build in the United States, and we can wait a year to go back and bid in that city.

  And guess what? Many of our projects were put through with no competing bids. That meant that the seller of the lot would have to sit and watch the grass grow on it, or take a huge blow about a low price and still make at least some money. Guess which one they did?

  The first email that I saw was from my head accountant, Cheryl.

  The IRS is asking for our accounts receivable invoices. They said that this is their third request, and if they don’t get the documents, they will issue a subpoena. What do we do?

  I rolled my eyes as I read the brief email. I could see my bloodshot eyes in the reflection of the Apple screen. I gargled a nasty cough and wrote back to her.

  Send the IRS the account statements that the money goes into. Don’t send them anything else. If they write back and request more information, make them request it another three times. At that point, follow up with me.

  I can hide money, too. Often times, I channel and reroute it so many times that it’s nearly impossible to figure out what is going on. I’ll give an example to illustrate how it works.

  We contract to do a job, with ABC electric. I instruct the electric company they will not get paid unless they submit the invoice to the general contractor. The general contractor is then billed, and submits the invoice to me. I
then accept payments through an account linked to a dummy corporation. Then I electronically submit the funds to a bank that has a lot of CD’s for me. I open a new CD, and deposit the funds. Then, I withdraw the funds from a different CD when it matures in a month. Then I transfer the funds into my business account at a different bank.

  Now, does that sound lengthy and confusing? It sure as hell is. Now, imagine trying to trace the paper trail as a third party who needs subpoenas for multiples banks, multiple businesses, multiple transactions, through multiple vendors. It’s a nightmare. I’ve been doing it for years. I say this with perhaps some arrogance, but the IRS is never going to catch me.

  I tapped on the next email and it was about my business, but for a different matter. This one was about a lawsuit that was pending against us. Here’s one tip I would give every business owner – never settle a case. Once a case is settled, all the people who live in ‘Lawyerland USA’ will talk to each other, and look for more settlements. If the cases aren’t settled and they know they will have to fight for months or years, it weeds out a lot of ambulance chasers.

  Holmes – the plaintiff’s attorney in the Glatz case – said that he would settle the case for $100,000, and in return, you would not have to admit any liability or wrongdoing. He said that if you don’t agree to settle, he’s going to file a suit next week. He claims he’s got enough evidence to make a strong case against us. Get in touch with me and advise me about what you want to do – James Welker, CFO

  I wrote back quickly.

  Tell Holmes to get ready for trial. If he wants, a friend of mind has a tailoring business and sells really nice suits. Just to piss him off, mention that to him and that we’ve got the address and phone number if he wants to follow up.

  I smirked and clicked the ‘send’ icon. Now it was time for the third message. After that, I could go to bed, or maybe pack for my upcoming trip. I would probably do the latter, since I had to leave in the morning.

  This message had the word ‘urgent’ in capital letters with asterisks. When I saw who it was from, I initially dismissed the urgency of the message. It was from Cathy.

  She always operates on ‘Code Red’ and everything is urgent. Bless her heart, but she’s one of those women that gets rattled really easily and lets things get to her. This time around, when I read it, I knew it was serious.

  A damning video has just been sent to the Board of Directors. Two months ago, it shows you at the Blitz Hotel, and you are having sex with the hotel heiress and two prostitutes. This video made its way to the board because it showed up in TMZ and Page Six. In a matter of hours, I suspect it will be all over the media. Also, I found out through a confidential source that the board is seeking to replace you after the convention. In other words, the shit has hit the fan. Just wanted to let you know.

  I didn’t reply and didn’t want to say a word to her in the meantime. When a sex scandal erupts, it is better to remain silent through text that can easily be retrieved and used to incriminate. In such a situation, an unrecorded telephone call is better, and anything incriminating that is said can be chalked up as being a ‘misunderstanding’ of fact or circumstance.

  Mary, mother of God. I knew I was in trouble though. See, that’s the bad thing about a company being public. A huge amount of control to the CEO is lost. In that respect, it sucks.

  When my company went public and started selling stock, I became a multimillionaire overnight. After just one day of trading, millions of dollars were added to my name. My many years of hard work and persistence paid off.

  Now, here’s the part that sucks about being a public company – accountability. The board can fire me if they want. My investors can pull their money if they want. Every decision that I make is put under the microscope. I can’t live or breathe without someone watching or tracing it.

  Cathy did her job, though. I threw her a couple of extra dollars to dig up gossip and monitor business activity. I was incensed that the board was thinking of replacing me, but she at least found out about it. I would then have a little time to prepare.

  In my opinion, I don’t think the board should care about my personal life since I make them millions of dollars and do well. I guess it was more important for them to please the shareholders or business partners who would see my actions as ‘immoral’.

  Please. The difference between me, and say, Enron is that I didn’t run my company into the ground and put lots of people out of work. They depended on me for a job, and I gave it to them. They needed money to support their families, and they earned it. Okay, I bent the rules and played rough, but what successful businessman doesn’t do that?

  I grunted as I flung my large luggage bag onto the bed. No powernap for me. How the hell could I take a powernap when I might end up losing my job, and the millions that I earn because of it? In a few hours, I would be getting onto a plane – my private jet – and go out to Seattle.

  We have a new project that we’re working on out there. I would call it a boutique hotel. The property would have modern design and would be roomy. Call me fanatical, but I loved to fly out and see new properties being built for the company. I guess it gave me pride and satisfaction. If nothing else, it also gave me a legitimate excuse for being out of the office.

  “Socks, underwear, pants, shirts” I mumbled to myself as I neatly folded my laundry into the bag.

  My closet is huge and I’ve got tons of choices about what to wear. I spent a few minutes after I walked in, to browse and pick through the stuff I had. I needed to look professional – at least out in public. When I was done for the day, I could always get naked and fuck whatever bimbos were willing.

  And that, was my problem as to why I got in trouble. Sex. Sex controlled my every thought and deed. I thought it was unfair for a variety of reasons. How was I supposed to know that the two women from the video were prostitutes? Should I ask for ID every time I get laid, and then ask if they are prostitutes? And, how would I verify if they were being truthful or not?

  I angrily zippered the large pocket on my bag and slammed my fist on top of it. It made a soft thud against the black, hard fiber. Prostitutes, really? I’m not the physical, boxer type – but I punched it pretty hard.

  I sat down on my bed and tried to think. I knew that I needed a plan of action. First, I focused on the problem. The problem was that the board saw me as an immoral degenerate who would damage the public perception of my business. Yes, it was still my business.

  So, I needed something that would make me look normal and likeable. Okay. What do most normal people have that differs from what I have? That was the real question.

  I thought about it, and saw one glaring difference. Most normal men don’t clap their hands and get women to spread their legs for sex. Most normal men would have just one woman. Ugh! I hated that idea. I’m only twenty eight years old, so I’ve still got a young and wild mind.

  So, I needed to find a way to get just one woman – or at least look that way. Would they be able to tell that it was bullshit? Maybe. At the end of the day, I didn’t have a choice. I needed to at least give the appearance that I was in a normal, loving relationship.

  I guess the easy part that I could remember is that money talks. It makes the whole world go around in circles. What do I mean? I could just bribe someone to be my girlfriend for a while. I could jazz it up real nice, too. Maybe buy her some flowers, hold hands, and so on.

  If it would be enough to please the board, then the job was done, and I accomplished my goal. If they reaffirmed trust in me, then I could keep going and weave my way back into trust with them, and my business staff.

  So, who was I supposed to have to pretend to be my girlfriend? I’m a chauvinist sometimes, so that played a role in who I might choose. I didn’t need someone as hot as Jessica Simpson, but I needed lustful beauty. She had to have a good personality and be likeable. In fact, it wouldn’t hurt if the board already knew her and liked her.

  Then again, that might not work well. If the board kn
ew and liked her, they would be able to determine when exactly we got together. They might be able to put one and one together and determine that this was a scheme from me that was too conveniently timed to be real. Damn.

  I ran my fingers through my hair and groaned loudly. I arched my back for a second just to give it a little stretch. My beige shirt was a little damp around the armpits, and it was wrinkled, too. Then I shot open my eyes and came up with the perfect person, I think. Okay, maybe not perfect – but she would be a good fit.

  Chapter 2 - Maya

  “James? Can I get your help in the kitchen?” I half-hollered. I was annoyed because our sink drain was clogged. It happens all the time and, of course, the landlord wouldn’t fix it. It was such a frequent occurrence that I didn’t even have to tell James what the problem was.

  I heard him walk into the kitchen as he made a dismissive wave at the sink. “Just leave it. You’re running late for work. Besides, I need to finish my cereal before it gets soggy and ends up tasting like recycled frog turd. Seriously, why can’t you just get up ten minutes earlier every day? It would save you so many headaches.”

  I hate to admit it, but I’ve been late my entire life. Even if I got up really early, I would lollygag and still end up late no matter what I had to do. Sometimes when I was late for work, my coworkers would hear my thudding footsteps and laugh because they knew it was me before I even entered the room. Embarrassing, I know.