Billionaire's Fake Fiancé (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (Billionaires - Book #10)

by Claire Adams

  “Don’t hold back, Mrs. Lasky,” I said dryly. “Tell me how you really feel.”

  “I think I’ve said all I need to say,” she said as she turned and moved toward the group of Bears players who seemed to have been thoroughly charmed by my grandmother. Mrs. Lasky looked at the group with narrowed eyes and then snapped her fingers as she icily addressed them, “Boys, your coach needs to see you out on the terrace. Now.”

  The young men nodded and bid my grandmother a fond farewell under the watchful eye of their owner before heading to the terrace. Gram watched them go with a smile and then turned to me as she said, “Nice boys, but their owner is a real bitch.”

  “Gram!” I scolded looking around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “You can’t say those kinds of things in public.”

  “Why not?” she pushed back. “I’m 85, for God’s sake. I don’t have to impress these people.”

  “I know, but I need them not to hate me any more than they already do,” I laughed as I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “You gotta help me out here.”

  “David, your generation is soft,” she said as she drained the last inch of beer from her glass and then set it on one of the tables. “Back in my day, we said what we thought and dealt with the consequences. We didn’t spend time pussy-footing around the truth trying to make sure we didn’t hurt anyone’s feelings.”

  “Gram, you know as well as I do, that’s not the issue here,” I said as I squeezed her shoulder. “It’s more complicated than that.”

  “More complicated than telling the truth?” she said looking around the room for one of the roaming servers who’d been carrying trays of drinks all evening. “Dammit, where’s my drink?”

  “Don’t you think you’ve had enough to drink?” I asked as I silently wished for the servers to steer clear of us. Gram wasn’t anything close to an alcoholic, but the more she drank, the more honest she tended to get.

  “You’re a real pain in my ass, kid,” Gram said with a grin. “But I love ya anyway.”

  I laughed aloud as I steered her toward the exit and my waiting limo. I’d gotten what I’d come for, and now I wanted to go home and contemplate my next move in the silence of my own space. I hated these kinds of events, but over the years, I’d learned that they were a necessary evil if I wanted people to support my projects, so I gritted my teeth and endured them. I scanned the room one more time hoping to see my small, wiry redheaded friend, but Finn was nowhere to be found.

  “Did you say goodbye to everyone?” Gram asked as I helped her into the Lincoln.

  “Gram, no one cares whether I’m there or not,” I sighed as I climbed in behind her. “All they care about is that my money is there.”

  “I think you underestimate your importance, David,” Gram said shaking her head slowly. “Your father did the same thing, and it was his undoing.”

  “I don’t underestimate myself, Gram,” I replied. “I just don’t care about the accolades from people who don’t know me, and I don’t give a shit about impressing them. I wanted the team. I got the team. End of story.”

  “You’re not fooling me one bit, David,” Gram said as she patted my hand. “You care. Now Finn, maybe not so much, but you just don’t want anyone to know you care. You think they’ll see you as weak.”

  “It’s Dax, Gram,” I sighed. “Not David. I go by Dax now.”

  “Oh, please, get down off your high horse,” she said rolling her eyes. “I’m your Grandmother. I’ve spanked you.”

  “Please don’t tell anyone about that!” I laughed as I grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

  “Your secret’s safe with me, kid,” Gram said as she returned the squeeze.

  Once I’d made sure she was tucked in for the night in the small, stone house she and my grandfather had bought back in 1951, I had the driver take me back to my apartment on Michigan Avenue and drop me off before I dismissed him for the night.

  “You’re not going out again, Mr. Connor?” Geo asked as he held the door for me.

  “Not tonight, Geo,” I said. “But I’m going to need you early tomorrow morning. We’ve got a lot of business to take care of and I need to get started early. Be here by six.”

  “Yes, sir,” he nodded before closing the door and walking around the car. He waited until I was inside the building before he drove off, and I smiled in appreciation of his attention to details. This was one of the many reasons why he earned a salary that allowed him to buy a house in Oak Park and send his daughters to private schools. It was also the reason he’d been with me for more than a decade. I valued the people who were loyal and did their jobs well.

  The rest I eliminated.

  I took the elevator to the penthouse, and sighed with relief when I stepped out into my own living room. I’d bought this place not long after Finn and I sold the business to Facebook for a record $9.5 billion.

  We’d demanded 12 but had been willing to settle for six, so when they offered nine, and we took it and ran. We’d been building the business we sold for more than a decade with the sole purpose of being the newest owner of an NFL franchise team out of Chicago. It had been a brutal fight to keep ownership of the business when our original partners wanted to sell it, but Finn and I managed to scrape up the money and buy them all out after the first five years.

  I knew they were kicking themselves right now, but I didn’t care. We were kids from the Back of the Yards, and had learned early on that loyalty and reward go hand in hand. Aside from Finn, I didn’t have many friends and I didn’t trust many people. I had Gram and a few loyal employees who could pinch hit as friends if the occasion called for it, but other than that, I kept to myself. Gram needled Finn and me about finding wives and settling down, and for years we’d assured her that we would as soon as the time was right, but as the years went by, neither of us made time for love. Business was our first love, and the thrill of the deal made every day an exciting adventure. Who needed a woman?

  I walked across the room and poured myself a drink before opening the door to the terrace and walking out into the night air. It was a beautiful summer evening in Chicago and I could see the moonlight splashed across the lake as waves made the water sparkle and dance. I thought about calling one of the women I kept listed in a special file in my phone directory. I might not have found love, but I certainly wasn’t a monk, but somehow it didn’t seem like the night for that. I wanted to celebrate with someone who actually cared about me, not someone who was paid to hang on my every word.

  “Fuck,” I muttered as I took a sip of the amber liquid in my glass. I stared out at the water for a few moments, and then raised my glass to the sky and quietly toasted, “Here’s to the future of the Chicago Storm and their Super Bowl championship.”

  Chapter Two

  July 2016

  Payton

  “Mother, you’re being unreasonable,” I said as I sat staring at her from the other side of her large, oak desk.

  “I’m not being unreasonable, Payton,” she said, drumming her fingernails on the desk, making the clicking sound that I’d hated since I was a child. “I’m simply telling you that you’ve had all the benefits of an excellent college education and opportunities that other people couldn’t even dream about, and now it’s time for you to find a husband and settle down into the life that is befitting of the granddaughter of George Halas.”

  “You are being horribly sexist, Mother,” I said as I gripped the arms of the square, black, leather chair I was sitting in and took a deep breath before continuing. “I know what I want to do with my life and it does not involve getting married to some rich guy simply to pop out a few kids and make the family happy. I want a career, Mother. I’ve worked hard to get to where I am.”

  “Oh please, Payton,” my mother said as she rolled her eyes and then spun her chair around to look at the wall behind her desk. “You’ve dabbled in the idea of sports management.”

  “Mother, I’ve earned both a bachelors and a mast
er’s degree in the field, and worked my way up the ladder at several organizations,” I reminded her. “I’ve been involved in the financial side as well as the recruiting and marketing sides of the business. I am well-educated and I’ve got experience! All I’m asking for is an opportunity to work with the Bears’ GM and learn the job.”

  “Impossible,” my mother said as she swung back around to look at me. Her expression was icy, as usual, but I knew that underneath she was boiling with rage. “You are not going to step into the number one position in the organization simply because you’re my daughter.”

  “I’m not asking you to make me GM, Mother!” I cried. I could feel my frustration rising as I pushed myself up out of the chair and walked over to the window. I looked out over Lake Michigan with my back to my mother as I spoke, “I want a chance, Mother. I want an opportunity to prove I’m as good as everyone says I am. You’ve heard them. You’ve read the recommendation letters. I can do the job. I know I can.”

  “Payton, there are a lot of things your father filled your head with, and this idea that you could one day be in charge of the Bears is one of them,” she said as the clicking continued. “I’m sitting in this chair because I’m a Halas, but I also recognize my role in the organization is not to get involved with the nitty-gritty of running the team. I’m here to oversee the implementation and continuation of programs that your grandfather started. I’m not here to run the team as if I were a coach, or even the GM. The idea that a woman your age could step into a position of such power is ludicrous, and I won’t have it.”

  “But Mother, I’m 28! I’ve grown up with the Bears and I’ve been working in the industry since I graduated! I know what I’m doing and I’m absolutely qualified to do it!” I yelled as I spun around and faced her. “The fact that you are saying no to your only daughter after all the hard work I’ve done to get to this point is not only unfair, but it’s also shortsighted and narrow minded!”

  “Be that as it may,” my mother said rising an eyebrow. “You have two choices, Payton Gale Lasky. You may either find yourself a nice man to marry and get on with the task of raising the next generation of Halas children or you can walk out of this office and figure out a way to maintain your current standard of living on your own.”

  “Wait, you’re telling me that if I don’t find a man and get married, you’ll cut off my allowance?” I asked, stunned that my mother was forcing me into a corner.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” she replied as she smoothed her chin-length bob with one hand and then looked up at me.

  “How can you be such a hypocrite?” I asked as I looked at her helplessly. “You’re a woman who owns the most revered football team in the country and you’re denying your own daughter an opportunity to follow in your footsteps? Your well-qualified daughter, I might add.”

  “I’m not being a hypocrite, Payton,” she said as she stood up behind her desk and pulled herself up to her full height. From this vantage point, I was more than a little intimidated. My mother was a formidable woman and in her Chanel suit and Manolo Blahnik heels, she dwarfed me. She leaned forward resting the tips of her fingers on her desk as she spoke in a chilling tone, “I married my husband because my father ordered me to, and I bore you children because that’s what was expected of me. I did not whine or complain about my lot in life, did I? No, I did not. I smiled and did my goddamn duty because that’s what you do in this family, Payton. Your fancy education and your years of experience are all well and good, but they do nothing to ensure that this family’s place in Chicago history is preserved. That is your job, and you will do it whether you like it or not, or else you will suffer the consequences of your actions. Your brother never would have behaved like this.”

  I stood listening to my mother with a stunned look on my face as she ordered me to become a brood mare for the good of the Halas name. I was shocked that she was speaking in such brutal terms, but as I turned the words over in my brain and thought about where she’d come from and who she was, I realized that the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree.

  My grandfather had been a shrewd businessman, and he’d figured out a way to ensure that his staff and players remained loyal to him no matter what hardships they faced. He made the battle about maintaining the team – no matter what. I suddenly remembered the snowy Christmas Eve that my older brother Jonathan had come down with the flu. My mother begged her father to stay and open presents with the family while she tended to her sick child, but he wanted to make sure the field was ready for the big show down between the Bears and the Packers the next day. My mother had begun crying as he put on his coat, and I remember him looking at her and saying, “Jo, stop your belly aching! The kid’s got a cold and we can open presents any time, but tomorrow is a once in a lifetime chance for some of the folks who are going to show up at Soldier Field, and there is no way I’m going to let those people down. They’re loyal fans!”

  My mother nodded and wiped her eyes, but the moment his Olds backed out of the drive, she sunk to the floor sobbing with her face in her hands. As I looked up at her, I saw that woman with mascara running in rivulets down her face as she wept for her father, small and sad on the kitchen floor. I wanted to remind her of that moment, but I didn’t dare.

  “You have been spoiled, Payton,” she continued. “It’s your father’s fault that you’re such a self-centered young woman. He always wanted to give you the world, and you took it for granted that he would. Now that you’re expected to do something in return for all that you’ve been given, you’re resentful and angry? I don’t think so, young lady. Put on your big girl pants and join the real world, Payton Gale. Your brother would never have caused these kinds of problems, you know.”

  “You are unbelievable, Mother,” I whispered in horror as I listened to her enumerate my faults and compare me to my dead brother. “I’ve never been selfish when it came to this family. No one is. We’re not allowed to be. I’m simply asking for an opportunity to do what I do best and help my family’s business thrive. I don’t understand why breeding trumps business.”

  “Because I say it does, and my job is to protect and maintain this family and its business,” my mother snapped. “You have one month to make your choice and get to work on finding a husband. If you need help, I’ve got a long list of eligible bachelors in Chicago that you can work with.”

  “No thank you, Mother,” I said stiffly. “When I’m ready to find a husband, I’m sure I can do that perfectly well on my own.”

  “Good, then we’re in agreement,” she nodded as she stood up and grabbed her phone so she could scan the messages that had come in while she had been issuing her ultimatum. “You may keep your apartment until you make your choice.”

  “I’m not getting married,” I said in a staccato voice.

  “Payton Gale, do not test me,” my mother said narrowing her eyes as she smoothed her skirt before sitting back down at her desk. “Your willfulness has always been tedious. Why can’t you be more like your brother? He was always so accommodating and willing to help.”

  “Of course he was! He was a child!” I cried. “But he’s dead!”

  A dark look crossed my mother’s face as she narrowed her eyes and stared silently up at me. I felt my stomach twisting in knots as I held her gaze and willed myself not to look away, but the look on her face frightened me and I couldn’t stop myself from averting my eyes.

  “If Daddy were alive, he’d be appalled at what you’re doing,” I said quietly looking back up at her and watching as the words hit their mark. My mother flinched slightly at the mention of my father, and then took a deep breath.

  “Well, then it’s a good thing he’s not, isn’t it?” she said staring at me with her steely gaze.

  I shook my head as I grabbed my Prada bag off of the floor and headed for the door. I had my hand on the handle when I turned and looked at my mother. She was staring down at an open folder on her desk, but I knew she wasn’t actually reading it because her nails wer
e clicking on the desk in a rhythm that didn’t have a beat. I stared at her for a moment and then said, “You know, it’ll never be too late to admit you’re wrong, Mother.”

  When she didn’t respond, I yanked the door open and walked out.

  Chapter Three

  Dax

  “Goddammit, Butler! What the hell were you thinking, you stupid son of a bitch?” I shouted as my General Manager told me how he’d made a deal with the Seahawks and the Lions to trade away our top round draft picks for the next two years in exchange for two linemen and a quarterback of dubious talent.

  I had hired Tony Butler after reading about how he’d turned the New Orleans Saints organization around and pulled together a team that won a Super Bowl ring in 2010, but that had been his last victory with the Saints before they’d fallen from grace. The next few years had been rough, and after five years, when Butler hadn’t been able to duplicate his 2010 win, the owners let him go.

  I picked him up for a song, but now I was reminded of what Gram had pounded into my brain over the years: you get what you pay for. Now I was annoyed and frustrated because Tony had made the kind of mistakes that were going to force me to have to be involved with Storm business, and that was the last thing I wanted.

  “Chill out, Dax,” Tony said as he held up a handful of fat fingers and tried to explain. “I was leveraging our picks so I could build a good team this season, not four seasons from now.”

  “You are such a dumbass!” I yelled as I paced the floor of my office. I’d built this office to resemble the one in my penthouse suite because I liked the continuity and wanted to feel at home no matter where I was. I also hated having to make decisions about furniture and all the crap that went with it, so outfitting the new office became much less of a pain in the ass when I simply duplicated things. “Butler, I gave you free rein on the draft so that I wouldn’t have to be involved with any of this shit. You swore on your grandmother’s grave you were going to get us a quarterback who could actually throw a ball and at least one wide receiver who could catch the fucking thing!”