Enchanted: (Billionaire Venture Capitalist #8): A Fake Fiancée Romance

by Ainsley St Claire

  “Your family has their own airlines? I’ve never heard of Bettencourt Air.”

  “It’s my dad’s plane or, really, his company’s plane.”

  “That’s why you said that we’d be flying once we got settled.”

  I nod. “Because of the accident, the board wants me to fly back in their company plane.”

  Gerald navigates through city traffic before getting on the interstate. We both watch through our windows, anxious for our week together. I hear her ask herself, “What have I gotten myself into?”

  “It’ll be an interesting week. My stepmonster is the quintessential Disney evil stepmother, and she even has two sons—twins. The older one is Dumb. The younger one is Stupid.”

  Her nervousness is quickly replaced by slivers of mirth. Her laughter is music to my ears. “I think we’re in a lot of trouble then. Make sure you tell me their real names, so I don’t refer to them by their nicknames to their face.”

  “I like how you think, and you’re probably correct. They are Brett and Jason, and they’re just not the smartest guys, but they’ve never had to be. I guess by general standards, they’re considered good looking, but I don’t think you’d ever meet them outside of a gym or spending their time and my dad’s money on looking good, but they want to take over my dad’s business, and they just don’t have the know-how.”

  “Do you plan on taking over your dad’s business?”

  “Oh, hell no. It’s a publicly traded company; it’s not anything the family would get any choice over. I’d imagine when my dad’s will is read, they’re hoping to take his singular board seat and make it into three seats and become a voting bloc for the board.” I run my hands through my hair. “My stepsiblings shouldn’t even be in the mix of all of this fight. My dad's lawyer shared his weird requirement, so I’m really grateful that you are doing this for me.”

  “Happy to help.”

  As we pull up to the private plane terminal, Gerald stops the car out front and rushes to open the side door. “I’ll put the luggage in the plane, sir.”

  “Thank you, Gerald. We appreciate your help.”

  Looking nervous, Quinn rubs her hands together. This is a lot to take in. We make our way through the terminal and do the required check-in. The pilots have filed the flight plan, but we must be verified.

  Standing at the door is Marjorie, the flight attendant. She started working for my dad before my mother died. She opens her arms and greets me. “William. So wonderful to see you.” She hugs me so tight I can hardly breathe. “Don’t you just look like your father more and more every day.” Her voice breaks, and I can hear the hurt and tears close to the surface. I’ve often thought she was a little too attached to my dad.

  “Marjorie, you look more and more beautiful every time I see you.”

  She blushes. “Oh, you have your father’s charm too.”

  “Well, if only that were half true.” My dad was an introvert, but with Marjorie, she spoiled him, and he flirted awkwardly.

  “I’m very sorry for your loss, William. I know this can’t be easy.”

  “No, it was a little surprising. I’m sure you know we haven’t had the best relationship in a while.”

  “He loved you so much. He talked about you nonstop. I hear you’re making your own money here in San Francisco.”

  “Thank you. Let me introduce you to my fiancée, Quinn Faraday.” I turn to her. “Quinn, this is Marjorie Williams. She has worked really closely with my dad for many years.”

  “Very nice to meet you,” Quinn says.

  Marjorie opens her arms for a hug, and Quinn surprisingly steps in. “It’s great to meet you too, Quinn. These Bettencourt men are quite the handful, so I know you’re pretty busy keeping him out of trouble.”

  Quinn glances at me and smiles broadly. “I’m sure you understand even better than I do.”

  “Oh, I know these boys. Trouble.” As she leads us from the gate area and out to the tarmac, Quinn stops short.

  I grab her by the hand. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”

  “It’s a 757,” Quinn breathes.

  “Yes, but it’s not as palatial as you think.” I’m trying to be nonchalant.

  “Not as palatial?”

  “Well, it only seats about a dozen people. Since it’s a company plane, after 9/11, none of the board members can ride together. It’s the corporate rules that everyone must fly independently, so we do a lot of flying commercially, but given the circumstances, we’re taking this this week. The plane was designed to act as a roaming office, so there are two bedrooms with their own bathrooms—including a shower for international flights. There is an office, and there are three groups of four chairs with a table in between for working or meeting. There are couches in front of a television that gets satellite TV.”

  “Have you ever flown in a commercial plane before?”

  “Of course I have. I fly commercial all the time.”

  She looks at me skeptically. “Have you ever sat in the back of the plane in the seats before the bathroom?”

  I laugh out loud. “I’m sure I have. It’s not that big of a deal. Why are you so scared? We flew to Vegas on a private plane.”

  “I was nervous. The other plane was a charter so it’s not private and I worry about the maintenance of private planes,” she says as we take our places in two of the captain’s chairs next to one another.

  Marjorie brings us two gin and tonics. “Here you go.” She sets a little snack basket between us. It has all of Quinn’s favorites: gummy bears, almonds, apples, and peanut butter crackers.

  “Wow. Thank you, Marjorie,” Quinn gushes.

  “William did tell me in advance some of your preferences. I have an Earl Grey tea when you’re ready. In the meantime, here is Tanqueray No. Ten gin and some tonic water, and I have plenty of other snacks if you’re interested.”

  I lean over to Quinn and say, “She takes very good care of us.”

  She beams. “I’m always looking out for you, William. I don’t want Jason and Brett on this plane again if I can help it. They always like to bring these girls along and christen them to the mile-high club.” She rolls her eyes, and it makes me smile.

  “Well, I do refer to them as Dumb and Stupid,” I share.

  She grins at me. “You’re so clever. You have a great sense of humor.”

  “Have you seen my stepmother recently?” I ask.

  “Yes, she went shopping last week in Paris, and so I got to spend some great quality time with her.”

  “That must’ve been riveting,” I say dryly. Then it occurs to me. “Wait, that was after she learned about dad. Did she go crazy buying things?”

  “I can’t be sure. She didn’t really talk to me. I told her how sorry I was about your dad, and she just said, ‘Thank you’ and buried her nose in her phone and on her computer.”

  “I have no doubt that she’s looking at how she’s going to spend my dad’s money.”

  Marjorie sits up straight, and with all her dignity, she decries, “Well, it should all be going to you.”

  “Actually, it was supposed to all go to my mother’s favorite charities.”

  Marjorie purses her lips in disappointment. There is a ding over the plane’s intercom, signally that we’re getting ready for takeoff. “It’s go time,” I tell Quinn.

  She looks terrified. “There’s no safety speech?”

  I point down. “See these pouches?” She nods. “These have your life vest, but given we are flying over land, I don’t think you’ll need one.”

  “You know, you really aren’t that funny.”

  I laugh really loudly. “I suppose you’re right. If anything happens, follow me. But given this isn’t a commercial plane, its maintenance is better, and our aircraft aren’t worked as hard as anything flown commercially, I promise you’ll be fine.”

  Once we’ve met our cruising altitude, I stand and turn to her. “Hey, we have the new Jonny Demarco film. Do you want to watch with me?”


  She looks down at her Kindle, and I can see her debate her decision. “Sure. Why not? I’m not usually a superhero kind of girl, but it sounds like a fun way to pass the afternoon.”

  As I load up the Blu-ray disc, Marjorie offers us more drinks and then lets us know our options for lunch. I order the lobster bisque and a five-cheese grilled cheese sandwich, and Quinn orders the seafood salad with dressing on the side.

  As we sit back and the movie comes on, Quinn turns to me and asks, “What movie is this?”

  When I tell her, she says, “This isn’t even in the theaters yet.”

  “I thought you said that you weren’t a superhero fan.”

  “I know what I said, but I can know movies,” she patiently explains.

  I love it when she gets annoyed with me. “One of my buddies works for Jonny, and this is a screener copy that he was able to get to me. I just got it yesterday, so I haven’t seen it.”

  “Amazing. Is there anybody you don’t know?”

  “Yeah.” I chuckle self-consciously. “I’m sure there are quite a few people I don’t know.”

  As we curl up on the couch and watch the movie, I put my arm around her, and it just feels right. She seems to fit perfectly in the crook of my arm. The movie is action packed, but I hear her softly breathing next to me, and my cock goes rigid. Boy, would it be nice to do more than have her breathing rapidly next to me, but I’m fully aware Marjorie knows what goes on in the bedrooms, and it’s not really the time for Quinn and me to get a little frisky.

  Four and a half hours later, we finally make it to Philadelphia.

  “Is it okay if I use the bathroom quickly before we deplane?”

  “Of course,” I tell her. When she walks out, she’s freshened up. Her hair has extra bounce, and I notice she’s wearing makeup. She looks amazing with or without makeup. “You look beautiful.” I didn’t mean to say it out loud, but when she blushes, I’m really glad I did. I don’t think she understands that all my flirting is earnest. I’m disappointed that it took her accidentally leaving a message for me to see her for who she truly is.

  She blushes. “Thank you.”

  At the base of the stairs of the plane, Gerald waits for us with another Cadillac Escalade. He holds the door open, and Quinn is obviously stunned to see him. “How did you get here before us?”

  “I was on the plane. I sat in the aft of the plane. You just didn’t see me.”

  She turns to me. “Do you always travel with your own driver?”

  “Gerald is not just a driver. He’s also a bodyguard of sorts. Given the situation, the feeling is that I should have a bodyguard for a little while.”

  “What’s the situation? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “My father always believed that, no matter what goes on, we need to be aware, but he was killed in a helicopter crash. The board of his company isn’t quite sure what’s going on, so I’ve had a bodyguard ever since the accident. Jim Adelson arranged it for me.”

  “You’re just telling me this now?”

  “I think it’s a total overreaction, but I’ve learned it’s better to roll with it rather than fight these things. We’re totally safe, and let me tell you, Gerald could take someone down with a paperclip.”

  “If he works for Jim’s team, I have no doubt about that.”

  Gerald looks at us in the rearview mirror and smiles. “Miss Quinn, I look forward to spending the week with you both at a discretionary distance.”

  “Thanks, Gerald,” she says.

  We drive across town and into downtown Philadelphia. Looking around, I’m reminded of how gray and gross it is here. Maybe it’s because, when my mother died, I always felt like she took the sun out of Philadelphia. I’m lost in thought when all of a sudden Gerald is holding the door open in front of the house I grew up in—a four-story stone building built at the turn of the century that sits on the tree-lined street across from a park. The buildings around the park have been converted to high-rise condos, and a few of the old homes were split into several generous apartments. There are only about four houses left like ours around the two square-mile park.

  My anxiety increases as I look up at the house, and I find myself holding Quinn’s hand. She gives me a gentle squeeze. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispers.

  I nod, appreciating the strength she’s giving to me through the simple gesture.

  Looking at the house makes me a little homesick, mostly because this is the last place my mother lived before she died and all my memories of her are from this house. It’ll be strange staying here without my father.

  Thinking about my childhood bedroom brings a smile to my face. I wonder what it looks like these days, or if it’s ever changed. Somehow, I’m sure the poster of Kathy Ireland in a skimpy bathing suit is long gone. Well, at least I hope so. I think Jason is living in that room these days, or maybe it’s Brett. Who knows? My dad mentioned once that they’ve taken over the bedrooms upstairs.

  “Are you ready?” she asks.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.” I turn to Gerald. “I have a feeling we won’t be staying. Please hang tight for a minute. Let’s see what’s going on.”

  Quinn grasps my hand again, giving me the strength to climb the twelve steps to the front door. My hand raises to knock, and all of a sudden, I look up to see Harriett is standing in front of me. She looks the same as she did when I left. She was my substitute mom, and I miss her and her chocolate chip cookies we’d make together.

  “Master William! You’re home! You’re home!” She gives me a breathtaking hug—so tight that it makes me realize how much I miss her personally, but I also miss this house.

  “It’s so good to see you. How have you been?”

  “We’ve been good, except we desperately miss your father these days.” She reaches for my arm and gives me a reassuring squeeze. “I’m so sorry about your loss.”

  “Thank you. That’s very kind of you. It was quite a surprise. I didn’t even know he was going to Tanzania.”

  “I didn’t know either, but I’m not usually in the loop on that these days.” She quickly changes the subject. “Thank you so much for the wonderful perfume you sent me for my birthday last month. It’s my favorite.”

  “I can’t smell gardenia and not think of you. I hope you enjoy it.” I smile as I slip my coat off my shoulders and hang it on the coat rack behind the door.

  “You look more and more handsome every time I see you,” she gushes as she looks at me. When she spots Quinn, her smile can’t be any bigger if it was the Grand Canyon.

  “Harriett, this is my fiancée Quinn. We just got engaged.”

  She clasps her hands together and opens her arms wide. “Quinn, I’m so thrilled to meet the woman who tamed this man’s heart. We’ll have to share a pot of tea, and I want to know all about you.”

  “I can’t wait,” Quinn says enthusiastically. “I’ll bet you have some good stories you can share too.” And I swear that Quinn winked at her.

  I can hear my stepmonster’s Pomeranians yipping, alerting the world there is someone in the house that isn’t normally here. My stepmonster yells in the distance, “Shut up!”

  “This should be interesting,” Quinn mutters loud enough that only Harriett and I can hear.

  “Who the fuck is at my house?” Lillian snarls.

  Harriett steps back and doesn’t say anything as we watch Lillian slither down the stairs, perfectly coiffed and ready for a night on the town.

  “Why, Lillian, it’s so wonderful to see you too,” I reply.

  “What the hell are you doing here? You aren’t even part of this family. You walked away when you moved to the West Coast.”

  “I didn’t walk away, Lillian. I met regularly with my father, and I talked to him all the time. I’m here because his lawyer asked me to come, and I brought my fiancée, Quinn. I thought she might like to see where I grew up.” I feel triumphant in my sneak attack. I have a feeling she was the one who talked my dad into the silly provision, thi
nking I would never settle down. Maybe she’s right, but I’m not going to let her win without a fight.

  She steps back a little bit. “This is not your house, and you’re trespassing.”

  “This is my family home. I have every right to be here,” I share with her, keeping my voice low and calm. “Lillian, I didn’t come here to take the house that my mother grew up in from you. I just wanted to come by and say hello.”

  She looks down and blows on her nails as if the polish is wet. “Get the fuck out of my house. I don’t want you polluting the air here.”

  I can’t let her get to me. She’s an unhappy person, and it’s now my job to make her miserable without her knowing it. “That’s fine. Quinn and I have a reservation at the Rittenhouse in Dad’s suite. If you need to find us, you know where that is.”

  “I gave up your dad’s suite as soon as we got the news about his helicopter crash. Good luck getting a room.”

  “No need to worry about us. I took care of it before we left.”

  “I promise to not give you another thought,” she snidely says.

  I reach for Quinn’s coat, and she steps into it, and Harriett holds mine for me. “I look forward to hearing what my father has in his will. Until tomorrow.” Harriett holds open the door. “Harriett, I hope to see you this week while I’m in town.” I reach in and give her a quick hug before walking back to the car.

  “Your father promised to look out for my boys and me. You’ll see,” she yells after me.

  “I’m sure you’re right,” I assure her. And I am sure she is right—my dad was a kind man. But I wouldn’t be surprised if my dad’s lawyer wasn’t laying the groundwork for her to not get a thing.

  Once the door is closed and we’re safely in the car, Quinn says, “Well, that was interesting.”

  “That is my darling stepmonster.”

  “She looks like a plastic factory.”

  I laugh. “Oh my God, she’s had it all done—her lips, her eyebrows, her boobs, her ass, her thighs, her belly, her arms, and it wouldn’t surprise me if she had her vagina done too.”

  “Eww! That’s quite the visual. But her face looks like leather stretched really tight across her face.”