The Screwup: A Billionaire Fake Fiancée Romance (The Holbrook Cousins Saga Book 2)

by Alina Jacobs

  When she returned to the depressing studio she shared with Arnold, she distracted herself from the mess and Arnold's leer by reading everything she could about Carter and his family. Architectural Digest was doing a feature series on Nancy's home renovation, and there was a companion piece about her role in the New Cardiff clubhouse repairs.

  Allie was obsessed with reading about the renovations. One single chair cost five thousand dollars! She longed to be a part of that world, where you made decisions not on something's economic value, but simply on if you liked it or not.

  The tabloids also didn't seem to lose interest in writing about Carter Holbrook. There was always some new feature with pictures or links to an Instagram post. Even though she knew he had cut back on his partying—he hadn't come to work hungover in the last few weeks—Carter had created enough of a reputation for himself as a party boy that there was still a lot of buzz surrounding his actions.

  Allie sighed and tried to force herself to read the news or an industry journal article. She felt like Stacy. Her phone beeped with an incoming text. Speak of the devil.

  How is New York City?

  She grimaced. She did not want to deal with Stacy right now.

  It's fine

  What are you up to?

  Allie reached out to pet Margot. The dog didn't seem that happy to be living with Arnold.

  Bryce came by looking for you. I told him you left.

  Allie's heart skipped a beat. He's not going to come up here to find you, she reassured herself. Before she could reply, the phone buzzed with another message from Stacy.

  I’m thinking about moving up there!

  Do you need a roommate?

  Allie looked around. Yes she did, but…

  It's very expensive up here

  You need a lot of money to rent an apartment

  Cash up front

  She knew Stacy didn't have the savings for a New York City apartment. You had to pay first and last months’ rent plus broker fees. It was not cheap, unless you wanted to live in a situation like she had with Arnold.

  Well I shouldn't need one for long!

  I've got some leads for a husband up there

  What on earth? Allie thought as she furiously typed a series of question marks.

  I'm a sugar baby!

  Sugar baby? Wasn't that what Carter's grandfather had been going on about?

  I don't think those men marry their sugar babies

  She couldn't believe Stacy would have managed to find a New York husband unless she tricked some poor kid from the Bronx into thinking she was the love of his life.

  This one will

  The last message came with a string of emojis.

  Allie was cross. If Stacy did somehow manage to snag and marry a rich husband, Allie would… well, she didn't know what she would do. She would have to accept that life well and truly wasn’t fair.

  Of course life isn't fair, she thought. That Holbrook has ruined your perspective. You need to work harder—that will take your mind off of things.

  She checked her bank account. Carter had stopped sending her money for Margot. She wasn't sure if she should bring it up with him. The dog didn't eat that much, but she missed having that extra money coming in.

  You need to take control of your own future, the practical part of her thought. Carter won't save you. But she wanted him to! All they did was have sex in the print room, though, and she wasn't an expert or anything, but that did not sound like the beginnings of a real, serious relationship.

  The romantic part of her that hadn't yet been snuffed out by hard-earned cynicism wanted Carter to declare his love for her or at least take her out for a nice meal or something.

  The next morning in the print room, she was reminded once again about how much her dreams about Carter would never, ever come true.

  She relished the way his body curved around hers, the way his muscles rippled under his skin, and how much pleasure he took from her. Carter was sweaty from working out, and she inhaled the scent of him and tried to ignore the voice that told her this was an exercise in futility.

  Say something romantic, she thought.

  Carter stretched, yawned, kissed her, and then said, "I'm going to shower. I love having you as my reward after a good workout."

  Her heart sank as she watched him go.

  A few moments later, she walked back to the gym as well.

  She angrily combed out her hair after she got out of the shower after their clandestine tryst in the print closet.

  "And that's all it is to him," she muttered to herself, angrily yanking out a tangle. "You let him fuck you and get nothing in return. Not even the courtesy of being respected."

  Her original plan when she came to New York City had been to find a bartending job. She had been putting it off because she didn't want to give up her time with Carter. She supposed a part of her had been looking at it as… what? An investment in a relationship?

  She knew she needed to cut him off, but a part of her still held out hope that he would evolve and treat her like a proper girlfriend.

  Allie, you're an idiot, and you've been played.

  On her way home from work that night, Allie walked past an upscale bar with a HELP WANTED sign in the window.

  "Can’t hurt anything," she said to herself and went inside.

  The hostess took a look at her business suit and asked, "Are you expecting a date?"

  "No," Allie said. "I’m here about the job."

  "Let me find the manager."

  Allie looked around the room. There was a bartender moving very slowly, making some sort of craft cocktail.

  "You bartend?" he asked her as he put the finishing touches on the drink.

  "Yes. I have bartended at a more upscale establishment catering to officers as well as at fancy military balls, so I have a good repertoire of cocktails."

  An older man came out of the kitchen.

  "You don’t strike me as a bartender," he said after looking her up and down.

  "I'm here in the city completing an internship," she explained.

  "Can you handle all of that?"

  "I’m used to hard work," she said. "And I need more money to find a more suitable living situation."

  "I gotcha. Weirdo New Yorker roommate, huh?"

  "Something like that."

  "I’m Bob, and that's Niles," he said, gesturing to the bartender. "He’s newly married as of tomorrow, and he and his boyfriend are going on a honeymoon, so I desperately need someone. The previous two replacements didn’t last long."

  That isn't a good sign, Allie thought.

  "They were offered acting jobs, so they didn’t have time to bartend. It’s similar hours."

  "Right."

  "When can you start?"

  "Whenever you need me."

  "Tomorrow?"

  "Sure," she said.

  "Good. We need you here at five."

  She cringed.

  "Is that going to be a problem?" the manager asked.

  "Not at all."

  "Let me see what you can do," Niles said, gesturing to the bar.

  She took off her coat and washed her hands. Niles called out different drinks for her to make. She slung them out, relaxing as she sank into the familiar rhythm of working the bar.

  Niles gave her an approving nod then showed her the complicated craft cocktails they made. She quickly memorized the recipes and made the Lotus Blossom cocktail, the Lively Lady, and several others.

  The manager and the bartender tasted them.

  "Perfect. You’re hired."

  She smiled. "Fantastic. I’ll see you tomorrow. Is there a dress code?"

  "Black shirt, black slacks. Something tasteful but not obtrusive. Also, we do bartending for my sister's catering company, if you would be interested."

  She smiled and said, "Absolutely."

  After they shook hands and she signed a contract, she practically skipped back to Arnold's apartment.

  Maybe this was finally the
turning point; maybe things were starting to improve. Hard work paid off. She just had to keep plugging away at it. Maybe Carter would actually see that there was something worthwhile in her.

  Even the fruit fly infestation in Arnold's studio apartment didn't put a damper on her good mood. She clipped Margot's leash on and took her outside. While the dog poked around at the leaves and trash on the sidewalk, Allie scrolled through the gossip columns on her phone. There was a big fundraising party coming up for the Holbrook Foundation.

  Would Carter ask her? Could this be her moment?

  She fantasized about what it would be like—walking in on his arm, wearing a beautiful dress, music playing…

  Who was she kidding? Carter had never even asked her on a date. There was no way she was going to that party.

  30

  Carter

  Over the next few days, Carter noticed that Allie grew distant. He knew she had enjoyed their morning session—he certainly had—but she didn't stay and linger with him as she normally did, just dressed and said she was going to shower. And she hadn't even wanted to stay late that night. She said she had something else to do. What if she was seeing someone else?

  He arrived early the next morning, eager for his Allie fix. She didn't show, and Carter had to take a freezing-cold shower to be able to function.

  Allie and Liz were on conference calls the entire day. Carter could barely contain himself while he waited for the floor to clear.

  "So," he said, standing up and stretching while looking around to make sure they were alone.

  "You're not going out with Vance?" she asked him.

  "I've stopped going out," he told her.

  "Did you?" she said, not looking up from her screen.

  He came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her neck.

  "Stop it," she hissed, pushing him away. She looked around furtively. "Someone could see."

  Hurt, Carter backed off. But his dick only had one desire, and that was to be buried inside of Allie.

  Calm down, he told himself. Trying not to seem overeager, he said, "Do you want to…"

  She swiveled around in her chair to look at him. "Maybe we could go out instead," she said carefully.

  "For what?" Carter laughed. "Drinks? Dinner? Isn't this good enough? Why do we have to make everything so serious?"

  She couldn't be seriously suggesting a date, right? When he had suggested that they go to her apartment, she was so angry. She must have meant something else that was absolutely not a date, right?

  He didn't want to seem too needy. He wanted Allie to think of him as a competent, powerful man, not some punk who didn't have his life together. He desperately wanted to ask Grant's advice on how to handle Allie, but he didn't want Grant to tell the rest of his family. They were all so sure that she was going to try to kill him or ruin him.

  He would gladly tell them to eat dirt if he knew that it would mean he could be with Allie. But he wasn't so sure that that was what she wanted. She hadn't indicated that she wanted more.

  Carter liked what they had, but now that he thought about it, he did want more. He wasn’t going to beg, though, or twist her arm. He figured if she really wanted to go on a real date, he would get some sort of reaction from her to show that she cared. He wanted her to protest and yell at him.

  But she just said, "Fine," and stood up.

  I guess she really didn't mean a date, he thought, his ego stung. He had thought he meant something to her, but maybe not.

  "Also, I've been hired for a bartending job," she said curtly. "So we're cutting this thing, whatever this is, short."

  "Oh okay," Carter said. "Maybe just the weekends?"

  "Maybe," she replied and picked up her bags.

  "I'll see you tomorrow," he called after her as she practically ran to the elevator.

  Carter was left staring at his computer. He turned it off, packed up his laptop, and went upstairs.

  "Done already?" Grant asked when he saw Carter standing in the doorway of his office. "Normally, you stay later."

  "I think I have a better handle on things now," Carter replied.

  Grant smiled brightly. "Now you have more time to do more family stuff!"

  Carter sighed.

  "You need to be more involved in the Holbrook Foundation," Grant told him, packing up his computer.

  "I don't have time," Carter told him.

  "Excuse me? How much clubbing do you do?"

  "Not that much! I've cut back. I work a lot now."

  "What exactly are you doing?" Grant asked as they walked to the elevators.

  "Making new safety-check protocols that we can potentially use for every new plant or company we buy."

  Grant frowned. "It's not practical to have a standard safety procedure for every single company. They are all in different regions and produce drastically different products or services."

  "I'm not explaining it as well as Allie," Carter said, frustrated. "But it's not a standardized safety protocol. Basically, we aren't rewriting safety codes and making all the manufacturing plants abide by them because you're right… that doesn't make any sense. However, we do want to know that the plants' internal codes are being followed and that they, especially the ones not in the US, Western Europe, or Canada, are actually following some basic industry standards. This protocol would be a way for anyone with basic knowledge to review the codes and procedures for each new company and identify what's missing for new plants or manufacturers."

  "Interesting," Grant said and held the door for Carter, ushering him out of the lobby. "Once you guys are further along, we should talk with Walter about it."

  Carter let out a breath as he climbed into the waiting car. Allie would have been angry if he had screwed up her big idea. She would be happy that Grant liked it—he deflated. Except that she was angry with him.

  He tried to tune back in to what Grant was saying.

  "You don't have to man a project unless you really want to. Just show up and schmooze. Everyone who attends these things, especially the fundraising party, always wants to rub elbows with a Holbrook. The more Holbrooks, the easier it is on everyone else."

  "Okay."

  "So you'll come to the fundraising party?" Grant sounded a little surprised.

  "Sure," Carter said. "Just tell me where and when."

  Allie didn't respond to any of the text messages he sent that evening. His mind supplied images of her with someone else.

  "You really hate that steak," Kate remarked at dinner.

  "Oh," Carter said, easing his grip on his cutlery. "Just thinking."

  His phone buzzed, and he jumped and pulled it out of his pocket. Grant and Kate looked at him, amused.

  "It's Grandpa," he said, deflated.

  "Did he find a new wife?" Kate asked.

  Grant grimaced. "Every time I see Jack, that's all he complains about."

  "At least he's not complaining about me," Carter remarked as he finished the last few bites of his dinner.

  While they washed up and went to the living room to relax, Carter ignored the barrage of texts from his grandfather about his newest sugar baby.

  "I can't believe him," Carter grumbled. "He's a dirty old man."

  "I can't believe someone would accept money to be with him," Grant replied. They were lying on the floor, playing a video game.

  "Don't you two have a company to run?"

  "No," they said in unison.

  Over the next week leading up to the foundation fundraiser, Grant emailed him information on the latest initiatives, the guest list, and his duties at the party.

  "Encourage people to donate, but don't be crass about it. Explain our various initiatives and how we're helping," Grant drilled him over lunch in his office.

  "Also, if you bring a date, it better be someone legitimate. Don't show up with one of your club girls."

  He had a brief thought that he should bring Allie for laughs but knew his parents would have a fit.

  Plus he di
dn't think she actually liked him. Maybe he was just another dumb marine for her to sleep with without it impacting her precious work. She didn't even want to let him come to her apartment.

  His thoughts stewed in his head while he dressed in his tuxedo for the fundraiser.

  He winked at his reflection.

  "Looking good!" Kate said, standing in his doorway.

  "I hate these functions," Carter said to her, following her to the car.

  "Me, too, but it's my job."

  "I'm not being paid anything at all to be there," Carter said with a sigh as they met Grant in the lobby.

  The three of them arrived early at the event space.

  "Carter!" his mother said happily when she saw him. "You've reviewed the guest list?"

  He nodded.

  "Wonderful. Just be your charming self! We want people to feel good about spending five figures on a ticket!"

  Carter grabbed a drink off of a passing tray and positioned himself near the door. He felt miserable and wished Allie were here with him. She was so calm and aloof. She wouldn't have been intimidated by this party at all.

  As the guests arrived, he tried to be charming. The event was well-known in his parents' upper-class circles. Several of their friends were there. A few people brought their adult children, who didn't look any happier than Carter was to be there.

  "This is my daughter," one man said, introducing a pretty young woman. "Carter's been back from the Marines for a few months now. Out on the town, looking for a girlfriend, I hear. You could do worse than my daughter," the man joked.

  His daughter looked appalled. "Dad," she hissed and led the man away.

  It wasn't the first time that evening someone tried to introduce him to their single daughter. Carter tried to be as diplomatic as possible.

  As the guest arrival trickled off, Carter grabbed a bruschetta from a passing tray and roamed around the room. He saw a familiar face in the crowd.

  "Hi, Liz," Carter said.

  "Hi," she gushed at him. "You look handsome." She rubbed her hand over his bicep. He could tell she had been drinking.

  You could do worse than Liz, he thought. She was pretty, from a good family. He liked the Davenports and was friends with Eric, her brother. She also seemed excited to see him, unlike Allie.