Lucky Charm: A St. Patrick's Day Irish Billionaire Fake Fiance Romance

by Eva Luxe

  Grant Carter was a walking stick of sin and sex. No wonder he was rich.

  “Yup, Darien is a good friend of his,” Willow said, mentioning her husband, “and he just had a position open up for a personal assistant. He was asking us if we knew anyone who could fill it so I was actually going to ask you. But I figured you’d just say it didn’t pay enough compared to dancing, or whatever excuse you always give me to keep doing it.”

  I laughed, because she was right. Had I not been forced to find a job due to the fact that Bar Seven closed down, who knows how long I would have stayed there, telling myself that one day I would leave, and with Willow continually prodding me, or giving up because it was futile. But still, Grant Carter was so gorgeous—how could I not be interested in working for him?

  I swallowed a lump in my throat. Being a personal assistant to Grant Carter? I wasn’t good enough for that. I had no experience. But the money… the money associated with this had to be good. Maybe not Bar Seven good, but better than flipping burgers.

  And I wasn’t in the position to be picky. Plus, this was considered a legit job; hell, I could brag about it anywhere I went without that black cloud of shame that seemed to hang over me whenever I had to tell people what I did.

  No more old ladies shaking their heads, no more lies that I couldn’t keep up with. No more thinking no one would ever want to marry me or have kids with me, or, if they did, that I’d have to skip out on making dinner because my shift at the only nudie club in town that accepted older ladies started in half an hour.

  Just a simple everyday job and the possibility for an actually “normal” future. Nice. Even though it seemed like a very big change.

  “Sure, I’ll give it a shot,” I said, my voice breaking with uncertainty.

  “Great,” Willow chirped. “I’m so glad you’re going to take this position!”

  “Wait, don’t I have to go to an interview? I mean, it’s not guaranteed, right?” The bubbles in my bath had faded out, and I could see my bare legs under the milky water.

  My nerves were achy from being wound up so tight.

  “Of course it’s guaranteed. This isn’t an open public position. Referral only, and I know for a fact he has none so far.”

  Willow was confident in her words. Darien and his constant swagger must’ve rubbed off on her big time in the business world.

  “Okay, Willow, I’ll go for it then. Thank you so much, I really needed this.” I leaned my head back on the bathroom tiled wall and swished my feet around in the warm water.

  “No problem, let me get everything setup. I can have you in there tomorrow! I’ll call you in the morning with more info. But make sure you pick out something professional to wear. Probably couldn’t hurt if it’s a little sexy. That would probably impress Grant.”

  “Sure thing. Really, thanks again, Willow.”

  We hung up and I managed to squeeze enough energy to soap up my wash cloth and wash myself down.

  Grant Carter Enterprises. I couldn’t believe I’d be the personal assistant to someone who had started such a successful company. That right there was enough to put on a resume and go anywhere.

  But would I want to go anywhere? Not while I had the opportunity to work for a gorgeous billionaire…

  I couldn’t help letting my fingers find their way to my naked pussy because it got so wet just thinking about Grant Carter and the fact that I’d get to be near him soon. Willow had said to wear something sexy. I imagined him ripping my clothes off and bending me over the desk in his office.

  I wished a guy like Grant could take me for my very first time. Most guys were intimidated, being with a stripper. They didn’t get that a woman could show off her body for money but still be quite naïve when it came to actually having physical contact with a man.

  It was easy, up there on stage, with many eyes on me from a distance. One on one was a completely different thing. I had to admit I was scared to open myself up emotionally as well as physically. Scared to be vulnerable.

  I rubbed my clit, wishing that Grant could be doing it instead. I bet he had a big cock. I bet he knew what to do with it.

  A rush filled my body as I was close to climax. One more thought of Grant thrusting his big cock inside me was all it took to come. I let out a gasp as I felt the sweet release. It was a welcome distraction after a crazy day.

  At least it had turned out to have a happy ending. And a new beginning.

  Chapter 4 – Stacy

  After my bath, I sunk back into my bed and turned on my iPad. The rush of bright lights in my now dark studio made my eyes wince for a moment. Life was lonely; I didn’t even have a boyfriend.

  I also thought I didn’t need one. All that love and relationship stuff just got in the way of everything. Love didn’t pay bills; it made them worse. Although I imagined a distant future in which I was married, I had never met the kind of man I would want to marry or even seriously date.

  So far, my “relationships” with men had been a series of economic transactions. And that had suited both parties just fine. I always thought that maybe later, after I finished school and had a “real” career, I’d find the right guy.

  That reminded me. The day had been so busy that I had forgotten to check my school email.

  Touching the screen to open a tab, I loaded the email platform for my school and checked it. There was an email from financial aid. It was probably just one of those regular emails they sent out, but I always made it a habit to check anyway.

  The beginning of the email was addressed to me. That was odd. I had never seen that before.

  Dear Stacy Endow,

  We regret to inform you that Worshot University has risen our tuition price and the new amount exceeds that of your loans. Please consult us further in the financial aid office to learn what other options might be available for you.

  I had stopped breathing for the entire time it took to read the email. Fuck me, why the hell did this have to happen now? I couldn’t afford to pull out of school at this time. If I didn’t complete next semester, then I’d have to wait another year to get into the economics class I needed for graduation.

  And financial aid had already told me I had a limited time to complete my degree before they would stop funding me. They had no mercy for students who had to take the slow route on their educational path due to also needing to work for a living.

  That was one reason I had always been grateful for exotic dancing; at least I could attend school during the day and work at night. I hadn’t thought about how changing to a daytime position as Grant Carter’s assistant would hurt me academically, especially in combination with this new information about my student aid.

  Well, crap.

  Had I really thought I could get off so easily, by having Willow hook me up with a job through her rich husband? Sure, it seemed like the perfect gig, with a hot billionaire to whom I’d just masturbated less than half an hour ago, back when things had seemed great. But I should have known it was all too good to be true. I was used to having a difficult life, and that wasn’t going to change in one day just because Willow’s life had turned out to be so peachy keen.

  I knew I had to get to sleep but I was hoping I’d be able to do it without tossing and turning forever. I tried to tell myself that maybe I wouldn’t need my degree after all; maybe I could just be Grant Carter’s assistant for good, even though that sounded rather unrealistic. It was something I focused on to try to drift off to sleep while forgetting my problems.

  Just when things had been starting to look up, they were more dire than ever. I was really at my rope’s end now.

  Chapter 5 – Stacy

  Damn it, what in the world should I wear today? I should have been figuring that out last night instead of fantasizing about my new boss.

  I stared at my face in my bathroom mirror. I had such a doll face, innocent and pure, and it made me look even younger than my twenty years of age.

  That kind of look worked well at the clubs—customers c
ouldn’t believe I’d be in the industry and they were always eager to hand over money to try to corrupt me. But now that I was about to start a professional job, I wanted to look more mature than some silly cute young thing.

  I picked up some neutral foundation and prettied my face up from the slightly dark rims under my eyes, due to my restless night. They were a step away from puffy. Which wasn’t gonna cut it in this situation.

  After I was done applying “normal looking” makeup— which is quite different from “exotic dancer” makeup— I left my bathroom and braced myself for the craziness that was my bedroom closet. I dug around through the frilly strings and lace that adorned it. Much to my non-surprise, I seemed to own nothing but sexy stuff that was way too unprofessional for my first day of work.

  I kept digging around. I knew there had to be something in here I could pull off. To my relief, I finally found it. There, in the back of my closet was a cute business get up. I really had always planned to go to a job interview one day, so at some point I had bought this suit and stashed it in the back of my closet, where it had gotten lost behind all the lingerie I had bought since then.

  This will work, I said to myself, holding up the pencil skirt, matching suit jacket and frilly, pastel pink Victorian blouse. I added the finishing touches of a neatly wrapped bun, subtly sexy stockings, and black pointed heels.

  Damn, I looked good.

  I’d almost think I looked too good, for a girl who hoped to leave the stripping world behind her and head to the professional world, but Willow had told me it would help if I looked sexy. Therefore, her wish was my command.

  I had to remind myself to breathe. This was a major step in the right direction. No more exotic dancing for me, and luckily I had a good friend to make sure I didn’t have to try to dip back into that life. It may have taken fate to get me to this point, but at least I was on my way, and nothing could stop me now.

  Phone, check.

  I.D, check.

  I had everything in my small black purse, ready to go.

  My phone rang, blasting the White Stripes’ song “We’re Going to Be Friends,” which I had programmed as Willow’s ring tune.

  “Hey Willow, ‘morning! How’re the girls?”

  Willow and Darien had a newborn baby together, named Dahlia, and Willow had adopted Darien’s daughter, Ariel, so now they were a happy family of four. Willow was very lucky in the love department. Very lucky. Stories like her were rare, and I was happy for them. If not a tad bit jealous, sometimes, but I guessed that was only natural.

  “Good, except for the fact that Dahlia is a big bundle of spit up most of the time and she manages to get a bunch of it on me as well! But, Ariel is still her strong-willed, usually pleasant self, at least.”

  We both laughed and then she continued.

  “I’m gonna text you the address; Grant’s expecting you.” Willow yawned; she must’ve been up all night tending to Dahlia. The long nights— and the spit up— were things I wasn’t jealous of.

  I still remembered her last day at the club we used to work at, when she was whisked off by Darien like he was her knight in shining armor. Just when she had thought things weren’t going to work out between them, he had moved heaven and earth to be with her. And that’s how things really should be between a couple who is now spending the rest of their lives together. A happy ending to their storybook romance.

  I used to joke with her that she needed to “gag me with a spoon,” with my perfect 80’s Valley Girl accent— we liked to watch old reruns of California Dreams together, which, sadly, aired way before our time— but in all seriousness, it was great how everything had turned out for her and Darien.

  “Okay, I’m about to leave now,” I told her. “Thanks again, Willow.”

  “Not a problem. I owe you after you showed me the ropes at the club years ago. Without your help, I wouldn’t have met—”

  “No, crashed onto,” I corrected, tapping my heel on the floor with a huge grin splashed across my face. That moment was another one that was impossible to forget about.

  “Right, crashed into my husband. Relax. You’ll do fine.” In the background I heard the faint cries of a baby, which quickly rose into a crescendo of a loud wail. “Oops, gotta go. The little one is calling for me. Good luck, Stacy.”

  “Right back at you. Sounds like you’ll need it more than I do, with those powerful lungs.”

  We both laughed and after I hung up I saw the text that Willow had sent me while we were on the phone. I checked my Uber app but it would cost twenty bucks to take an Uber there, and I needed all the cash I had. So instead of the uber, I decided to take the bus.

  With one last glance at the mirror, I readjust my glasses (which are fake, but I want to look the part of an eager and studious young professional) and tuck in a strand of hair. I was ready to go. Or as ready as I’d ever be, at least.

  Chapter 6 – Stacy

  The sun shone brilliantly in the blue sky, this time without its bludgeoning heat. Today felt new, fresh— straight out of the shower fresh.

  I made my way over to the bus stop that was two blocks up from my apartment building and sat down.

  A lone guy straggled over and leaned on the side of the bus shelter.

  At first I didn’t pay him any attention, but he waved and gave me a crooked smile. God, did this guy even know what toothpaste was?

  “May I help you?” I asked.

  “Yeah, Babe. I got some money that’s begging to be spent.” He leaned in and I stood up. What the hell was this freak talking about?

  “Excuse me?”

  “No need to be shy, Baby. I know how well you can dance. Been a fan of yours for a while now.” He inched over towards me. Wait, he said he was a fan? He knew me from the bar. But how?

  “How did you find me?” I asked, folding my arms. I glanced past him, praying to the universe the bus would magically arrive from around the corner.

  “Baby, I had to follow you home,” he got closer and I moved to the side. “To make sure you were okay, in case someone else had been following you, too. A lot of us guys are really sad we won’t be able to see you up on stage anymore.”

  Oh shit, looks like rent was going to be the least of my concern. I’d have to shell out moving costs now. There was no way I wanted to keep living there now that he knew where I lived. If this creep had followed me when he found out Bar Seven had closed down, then there was no promise that others didn’t, either.

  “Look, I’m not a dancer anymore. So get lost.”

  He sneered and grabbed my hand. I jerked away, but he pulled me into him. The gross odor of alcohol fumed off of him. Time to get serious. This dude obviously wasn’t taking the hint.

  “You don’t mean that, Baby.”

  I lifted up my leg and then brought it back down, stabbing my heel straight through his sneaker.

  “Ahh! Fuck!” he shouted, doubling over and releasing me out of his grip.

  “Yes I do,” I said, bending down to get a good look at him. It was clear he was in pain and wasn’t getting up to follow me any further.

  “Ooow! Ooow!” he moaned. “What’d you go and do that for? It was a compliment. I was trying to protect you. You ungrateful bitch.”

  This bitch was certainly grateful for one thing— her office appropriate shoes with heels. But I wasn’t about to waste my breath telling him that.

  The bus came roaring around the corner and I waved it down. Once it stopped, the driver looked over my shoulder at the guy cradled on the ground holding his foot.

  “You nasty bitch!” he cried, while I boarded the bus.

  “That’s right, I’m really nasty. So nasty you don’t want to be around me. You never know what you might catch. Maybe a heel to your foot. Or next time, it might be your face if you mess with me again.”

  The bus doors closed and I paid my fare.

  Lindsey was right, martial arts was a mandatory skill for us dancers, especially with perverts like that around. But I couldn’t think
about that any more for now. I was about to become an administrative assistant for a rich and powerful man. I was ready to leave my street skills behind for the time being, and brush up on my office ones.

  Chapter 7 – Stacy

  After a thirty minute bus ride, during which some looky loos had asked me what had happened with the guy on the ground and I proceeded to shrug off their congratulatory responses with comments like, “It really was no big deal; he was a weakling when it came down to it,” I finally reached my destination. I was standing face to face with the Carter building where all the magic happened. This company provided funding to startups and was behind the genius minds at Flossline Tech.

  My mood had returned to being positive and full of life. I wasn’t going to let the stranger get me down. It was a beautiful day, despite that encounter.

  In fact, if I weren’t me, I’d be jealous of me, today.

  I walked towards the entrance of the building, excited to make my first impression on Grant Carter or whomever might be greeting me. I was skipping up the stairs when something caught the tip of my heel and tripped me up. So much for feeling confident and trying to look cute.

  I turned around to sit on my ass and take in what just happened.

  Damn shoe.

  Or, more like, damn creep from the bus stop.

  My stomp to his sneaker must have caused a small chip in my heel. It wasn’t enough to have made any difference while I was on flat surfaces but walking up the stairs had created an issue.

  What an asshole that guy was. These were expensive heels and I have no idea when I’ll get my first paycheck.

  Suddenly, a hand reached at me, right in front of my face. My initial reaction was to block it and scream, because I had been thinking about the bus stop encounter. But, when I looked up, I thought better of it, luckily. Because, lo and behold, it was him.

  Grant Carter.