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

by Claire Adams

  “Good morning, Mr. —Asher,” she corrected herself as our eyes met briefly. “How was your trip to Hong Kong?” she asked politely.

  “Good morning, Lilah. It was productive. Thank you for asking. So, how do you like the new office?” I asked, stepping inside.

  “Oh, it's beautiful!” she exclaimed. “I wouldn't have imagined that I'd be in an office this amazing so quickly. I was prepared for it to take me a few years to work my way to an office view like this.”

  “When you've got talent and drive, sometimes things happen faster than you think they will. But, of course, you’ve got a lot to prove in order to keep the view.”

  My grandfather always said you had to keep a decent amount of pressure on your staff to keep them on their toes; nothing excessive, but enough to remind them that nothing was set in stone. Complacency doesn’t move a company forward; hard work and ambition does. I could not—and would not—tolerate complacency in my firm. Lilah, like every member of my staff, needed to realize this.

  “I understand completely,” she replied, “and I intend to do just that. My goal is to see to it that you have no doubt you made the right decision by offering me this position. But more than that, I want to prove to myself that I can not only do this job, but that I can do it brilliantly.”

  I smiled. “Excellent. Ultimately, the only person you should ever need to prove anything to or compete with is yourself. As long as you're bettering yourself every day, you're winning the race. That's my philosophy, at least.”

  “It's a good philosophy.”

  I walked over to her desk and immediately noticed a picture of her with a handsome, rugged-looking man staring at me from next to her computer. It was completely irrational, but a sudden stab of jealousy shot sharply through me.

  “Is this your boyfriend?” I regretted the words as soon as they came out of my mouth. It was a stupid thing to ask, but what could I do? It had already been said.

  “No, no,” she answered hastily, and I couldn’t help feel a sliver or relief at her quick insistence. “He's my oldest brother, Eddie,” she added. “He's also my best friend.”

  I stared at the man in the picture, and it began to make sense. Once I looked closer, the physical resemblance between the two was undeniable.

  “I see it now. You two favor quite a bit.”

  “Yeah. We get that all the time. He and I both have our mother's looks, while my other brothers all look like my dad.”

  “How come you don't have pictures of the rest of them on your desk?” I asked and immediately could tell that I probably shouldn't have. She looked noticeably uncomfortable. There were obviously some family issues there.

  “It's just that I'm closer to Eddie than my other brothers,” she replied softly.

  “Oh, I see,” I responded, not wishing to press the issue. “Well, tell me a bit more about Eddie then. He looks like an interesting guy.”

  She smiled, seeming relieved to have gotten away from the topic of her other brothers.

  “Eddie’s great. He's a rather unconventional guy—he was a college dropout, but he's worked hard and is quite a success in his field.”

  “And, what field might that be?”

  “He's a musician—the lead guitarist for The Razor's Edge.”

  “What? No way. He's seriously in The Razor's Edge?”

  She looked surprised that I'd heard of them.

  “Yeah,” she smiled. “He's one of the two founding members still in the band.”

  “That’s crazy. I've been a fan of theirs for years.” It was true. While I'd been raised on jazz and classical music and, thanks to my mother, had played the piano since age 6, my rebellious side had always had a soft spot for punk music.

  “I discovered The Razor's Edge in my teens when I'd heard one of their tracks on a snowboarding video,” I continued. “That song Bullet. Man, that tune used to get me amped before my snowboarding sessions.”

  “Wait. You were into snowboarding and punk music?” she said with a laugh that was half amusement, half disbelief.

  I smiled. “All work and no play makes Asher a dull boy,” I countered. “And with all the hard work and focus I've poured into my life, I needed some outlets, some escapes. In my teens I had punk music, snowboarding, motocross, and a few other extreme sports I could sneak in without my mom finding out.”

  “Wow,” she said with another laugh and bright smile that was just as stunning as her eyes. “I never would have thought it.”

  “There's a lot most people don't know about me,” I offered softly. “A lot.” Suddenly, I no longer felt like talking about myself. Things were getting a little too personal, and so I changed the topic abruptly.

  “Anyway, we're wasting precious time here. I have a lot of things on my plate today, so we should get to work. Have a seat and let's chat about this Harry Winston project.”

  We sat down in the meeting area off in one corner of her office and started discussing the campaign while I did my utmost to focus on the conversation and ignore her striking eyes and the curvaceous legs revealed so casually from beneath her skirt. This was going to be an interesting working relationship—interesting indeed.

  Chapter Four

  Lilah

  I sat at my desk and stared out through the wall of glass, mesmerized by the Pacific Ocean rolling in the distance. I drew in a deep breath and immediately felt calm. The sight of the ocean had always soothed me, especially in times when I was stressed. It was the main reason I had quickly requested an office with an ocean view. I knew this job wasn’t going to be a walk in the park, and I was going to take whatever stress relief options I could. An ocean view seemed like the perfect place to start.

  As I sat there, I began to mull over all that had happened in the last hour. Asher had just left my office after a very in-depth explanation of exactly what would be expected of me in this position—which was a lot. We had also discussed how to move forward with the Harry Winston watch campaign.

  This was easily going to be the most demanding job I’d ever had. I'd always been comfortable under pressure, however intense it was. Rarely had I faced a task I could not rise to and conquer. But this—this was more pressure and more responsibility than anything I'd ever faced before. It was going to take every ounce of my focus.

  Still, I'd never been one to shy away from a challenge or take the bull by the horns, as Eddie liked to say. And while this was the biggest, fiercest bull I'd ever had to wrestle, I was confident I would fight him to the ground.

  If I was being honest with myself, I was more intimidated by the way Asher had been looking at me, how he'd bristled—almost palpably—when he'd first caught sight of the picture of me and Eddie on my desk.

  I couldn't deny that I'd caught myself staring a bit too long at him a few times while we'd been talking. His perfectly touchable hair, his strong square jaw, and those piercing, amber eyes were hard not to stare at. Not to mention the hard muscles rippling ever so subtly beneath his tailored suit.

  I couldn't deny there was something between us. A chemistry that seemed to lie just beneath the surface. But the fact was that Asher struck me as cocky, almost arrogant, and too self-assured in his wealth and power. It felt as if he thought that he could use his status to get anyone to do practically anything—and that set me on edge. I'm a strong-willed and often stubborn person, myself. I could already see the occasions when we'd butt heads. It was going to be an interesting working relationship.

  It certainly had been an interesting few days, that much I couldn’t deny. I wasn't sure if interesting was quite what I needed in my life at that particular point, but interesting was what I was about to get. All I could do was roll with it.

  ***

  I was two days into my first official project and it was all I could do to maintain some semblance of focus. There I was, still in my office at 8:00 in the evening, and I had only completed two-thirds of the day's work. I felt as if a truck was speeding through my brain, wrecking everything in its path. To
say I was exhausted was an understatement.

  Still, I'd signed on with full knowledge that this job would be an incredible challenge and that it would mold me into a true force to be reckoned with in the PR world. That was what I wanted, after all.

  At least, that’s what I kept reminding myself.

  Life was simpler that way, even if my stress levels were at an all-time high. Work stress and emotional stress were two entirely different beasts, and I felt as if I was far better equipped to deal with the former—especially after Jacob and what I had been through with him.

  Jacob. The name still sent ripples down my spine, only not in the delightful, weak-at-the-knees way it once had. Those warm and fuzzy ripples had morphed into chills of dread, of anger, of pain.

  I shook the thought of him from my mind. I couldn't allow his memory to snake its way into my world. I had to focus on work. At the rate it was going, it seemed as if I would be there until well after midnight, only to have to start again at 8:00 a.m. the next day. I tried to force my thoughts back to something productive. Just as I was succeeding, however, my phone rang.

  I let out an exasperated sigh. “Who the hell is calling me now? How am I going to get all this work done tonight?”

  I picked up the phone with the intention of cutting off the call and switching the device off so I wouldn't be bothered again, but then I saw who was calling.

  I smiled and answered. “Eddie! How’s my favorite sibling?”

  “Great, Peanut, just great. We just laid down an epic track for the new album. I think it could be one of the singles.”

  “That's awesome!”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty stoked. That’s why I’m calling. I was wondering if you wanted to come out with me and the guys to have a beer or two to celebrate?”

  “Aw, Ed, I'd love to, but there's no way I can make it tonight.”

  “Why?”

  “I'm swamped with work. It's seriously looking like I'm gonna be at the office until well after midnight.”

  “Oh, bummer. So that's how it's been your first few days of working for the big shot, huh?”

  “Well, yeah, kinda.”

  “You regretting that decision?”

  I thought about this for a moment before answering.

  “Actually, no. I wanted a challenge, and a challenge is exactly what I am getting. It's tough, but I feel like eventually things will start to fall into place and it'll feel more like a breeze than a hurricane.”

  “I hope so, sis. I know you’re used to stress and pressure, and that you thrive under them, but like anything in life, too much of 'em will kill ya in the end.”

  “I know, I know. But I’ve got this. It’s just a learning curve.”

  “I know you do. You always do. All right, well, I won't keep you any longer. Good luck with the rest of the night. We’ll talk soon. Love ya.”

  “Love you, too, Eddie.”

  I hung up the call and turned the phone off. There was no one else I’d have answered a call from at that time of night, so there was no need to even give anyone the option to distract me.

  I glared down at the papers strewn across my desk and drew in a deep breath, then exhaled. I was already feeling like a bit of a zombie, so I decided to go down the hall and make myself a strong cup of coffee in the lounge. I was going to need a good caffeine boost to get myself through the next few hours.

  I left my office and headed down the hallway. As I turned the corner at the end, I collided with what felt like a padded wall. I almost lost my balance, but a pair of muscled arms quickly wrapped around me. I immediately looked up and found myself staring into those mesmerizing eyes I’d been trying to forget.

  “Asher!” I exclaimed. “You scared the hell out of me!”

  He chuckled. “The feeling's mutual! What are you doing here at this hour?”

  “I, uh, well . . . working. There's so much I have to finish before tomorrow just to stay close to on schedule and, if I add tomorrow's workload to this one, it just means I'm not going to be sleeping at all tomorrow night and—”

  “Hang on, hang on,” he said, holding up a finger to silence me. “Mind if I take a look at what you've done so far?”

  “Um, well, it's not quite finished yet, and—”

  “That's perfectly fine. I just want to see what kind of progress you've made.”

  I realized I couldn't really say no. He was, after all, the CEO.

  “All right, let me just make a cup of coffee, and then I’ll meet you in my office to have a look at it.”

  “Hold off on that coffee for now. It's not gonna do you any favors when later tonight when you're lying in bed wired, unable to sleep, and knowing you have to be back here in a few hours.”

  “But, Asher, I need to finish—”

  He cut me short again. “Just let me take a look first. I'll be the judge of whether you need to keep going tonight, all right?”

  “All right,” I conceded, turning around to lead him to my office.

  He sat down at my desk and skimmed over my work while I stood behind him, feeling more and more nervous with each passing minute. After what felt like an eternity, he swung the chair around and stood.

  “I don't think you need to do anything else here tonight, Lilah,” he said. “What you've already done is good—better than good, really.” His eyes focused on mine and his expression softened. “Look, I realize there's a lot of pressure on you right now, especially in these first few days since you're just learning the ropes, and I know I've tossed you right into the deep end without a life preserver.”

  “I—” I began, but he held up a hand to silence me once more.

  “You don't need to say anything, Lilah. You're doing an excellent job. I think the issue here is me. I've been a bit too demanding with the deadlines on this campaign, so let me give you an extra day to get it done. How does that sound?”

  I hesitated before answering. Of course, with all the stress and pressure, I was tempted to just agree, but what if it was a test of some sort? What if he was testing me to see how much resolve and grit I had, or how badly I really did want the job?

  “I appreciate that, but no thanks,” I said, stiffening my resolve. “I can handle this, and I can get it done within the specified time.”

  He smiled sympathetically. “This is not a test, Lilah. I'm not trying to see how committed you are to Sinclair and your new position. I really was too ambitious with the deadline. I didn't take into account that you're still finding your footing here, learning the ropes, and getting a feel for our processes. Granted, I do expect an immense amount of hard work and dedication from you, that much is true.

  “I don't, however, expect you to work yourself into a hospital bed or worse. I'm a strict man and I have high expectations, but I'm no slave driver. So, as your boss, I'm telling you, for your own health and well-being, that the deadline has been extended by a day. And that's the final word on that.”

  I nodded, quietly relieved that I'd been given the extra time to complete my work.

  “Thank you,” I responded. “I appreciate it.”

  “Don’t mention it. I know how much of a killer stress and working too much can be—it's what sent my grandfather to an early grave.”

  “I'm sorry to hear that.”

  His smile faded. “That’s kind of you. It's been many years since he passed, but I do still miss him.” His gaze lowered to the floor.

  There was a moment of somewhat uncomfortable silence between us before Asher looked up at me. The somber look that had darkened his face earlier was gone, replaced now by a warm, inviting smile.

  “Say, have you eaten dinner yet?”

  “I have not,” I replied. “In fact, I've been so focused on this project that I haven't had a moment to even think about food. I’m actually realizing that I haven’t eaten since Jessica brought those cookies around just before lunch.”

  “Well, that won't do. Not that those cookies weren’t amazing. They were. But, I'm a big believer in the power of
nutrition, Lilah. We can't afford to neglect our bodies as we obsess over work—and yes, doing exactly that is something that I'm guilty of myself, so I know how you feel. Listen, how about we get dinner? I was just about to head out to grab a bite to eat myself. How do you feel about Greek food?”

  I smiled. “I love it,” I exclaimed, feeling an immediate flush of embarrassment at my bubbly enthusiasm.

  He chuckled. “Excellent. That makes two of us. I just have a few things to finish up in my office. I'll call my driver and arrange for him to pick us up in half an hour downstairs. Sound good?”

  “Sure, sounds like a plan,” I responded.

  ***

  “That was some of the best hummus I've ever had,” I said. “I can't believe I've never been to this place before.”

  “It's great, isn't it? Hey, how about another glass of wine?” Asher asked as he poured himself a bit more of the dry red he pulled from the ice bucket next to our table.

  I was definitely feeling the effects of the wine we'd already had. He was pouring from the second bottle of the night and it was almost empty. My head was starting to swim, and I sensed that it was affecting Asher, as well. His speech was sounding a bit slurred and his eyes were looking a tad glossy. He'd told me before we started dinner that he rarely drank alcohol, for health reasons, although I suspected it had more to do with the fact that he didn't like losing control and letting his defenses down. Aside from the occasional beer with Eddie, or going out with my friends every now and then, I wasn't much of a drinker myself—yet there we were, almost two bottles in.

  The wine had just flowed quickly and easily. We'd been chatting non-stop since we'd arrived at the restaurant, and the conversation had flowed as smoothly as the wine had. It had been hard to decline every offer of a fresh glass, so when he offered me yet another refill, I took him up on it.

  “Thank you,” I said politely. But I couldn't help letting out a giggle as he almost knocked the bottle over.

  “Oops,” he said with a nervous laugh. “Nearly made a mess there!”