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

by Ainsley St Claire

“Yes, and I’m sure those are hair extensions. I’ll never know what my father saw in her.”

  “I bet that mouth could perform miracles on a man’s dick.”

  “I don’t want to think about that with my father.” I shudder.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” She looks down at her hands and seems embarrassed. “Sorry.”

  “Please don’t apologize. I think it’s good to see that your second job comes in handy sometimes.”

  “You have no idea.”

  The car drives us to the other side of the park, and we get out. The Rittenhouse Hotel is a five-star hotel that my dad would stay at whenever he didn’t want to see Lillian, which I think was more often these days.

  As we walk across the marble floor, I take in the grandness of the lobby. It hasn’t greatly changed since I was a kid, but it’s been updated.

  “Mr. Bettencourt, so wonderful to see you.”

  I recognize the face, but I can’t place it. I glance at the name tag, and it says “Jennifer.” Then it hits me. “Jennifer Wright?”

  She smiles. “You remember me?”

  “You’re all grown up, but yes. How are you? How’s Owen?”

  “My brother and I run the Rittenhouse together. I saw you were coming in, so I wanted to be sure to greet you.” She leans in and conspiratorially says, “Plus, it’s always good to show the team up front here that I know what I’m doing around here.”

  I burst out laughing. The Wright family has owned and operated this hotel for several generations. Owen and I went to school together and, because we lived across the park from one another, spent a lot of time together. “Well, thank you for making sure that I had a place to stay.”

  “Owen and I were really sorry to hear about your dad.”

  “Thank you, it is quite the surprise.” Then I realize I’ve forgotten Quinn was standing with me. “I’m sorry. Jennifer, this is my fiancée, Quinn Faraday.”

  “So wonderful to meet you. William was quite the heartbreaker when we were growing up.”

  “Don’t believe her. No girls were interested in me. I was a nerd.”

  “He was a major nerd—comic books, Dungeons and Dragons, Pokémon cards,” a male voice says from behind us.

  “Owen!” I grab his hand, and he pulls me in for a backslapping man hug. “Great to see you, man.”

  “You too! Sorry to hear about your dad.”

  “Thanks. I’m in town to deal with the stepmonster.”

  “Stay as long as you need. We have a few things of your dad’s when you ready. It isn’t much. Few papers and some toiletries,” Owen shares.

  Jennifer hands us two key cards. The bellman has our bags on a cart, and we’re ready to go up to our room. To those who don’t know Quinn, I’m sure she looks relaxed, but I’ve realized she bites at her lower lip and picks at her cuticles when she’s nervous, like she’s doing now. I’m sure she’s concerned we’ll be sharing a bed. Owen is one of my oldest friends, but I need to keep the ruse up just in case someone is watching. I trust no one in Philly.

  “We don’t want to keep you lovebirds.” Owen smiles and winks at Quinn. She looks at me and gives me a luscious smile, and all my blood rushes to my cock. “I hope we can catch up again while we’re in town.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I assure him.

  We then follow the bellman into the elevators. His name tag says his name is Jimmy. “You know the Wrights?” he asks.

  “I grew up with Owen and Jennifer. This hotel has been in their family for three generations,” I tell him. I have great stories of us getting in trouble, but I would never share that with a member of their staff. It’s fun thinking of those days—the days when you thought little things like a math test mattered.

  “You may remember my dad. James? He was the doorman for many years.”

  “Of course. He never ratted Owen and Jennifer out when he knew they were out past curfew. Does he still work here?”

  “He passed away last year.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that. He was a good man.”

  “He was. I just wish I had told him that more often.” His comment hits me right in the heart. That’s how I feel about my dad. Quinn reaches for my hand and squeezes it.

  Jimmy opens the door to the suite, and I ask him to just drop the suitcases in the room on the left, and I offer him a healthy twenty-dollar tip. “Thank you, Mr. Bettencourt.”

  “Thank you, Jimmy.”

  Once he’s gone, I pick up Quinn’s bag and move it to the other room. “You have your own room, so you don’t have to worry about me laying all over you.”

  She looks relieved. “Thank you.”

  “Relax a minute and let’s grab a casual dinner tonight. There is a favorite spot of mine that isn’t too far from here that we can walk to.”

  “Great. I’m not hungry right now.” She looks at her watch. “I know it’s after five already, but would you object to a late dinner?”

  “Sounds perfect. Say eight?”

  “Perfect.” She turns to leave but hesitates. “Thank you for bringing me with you. I know this must be difficult.”

  I’m stunned because I feel like I blackmailed her into coming. “It’s you I should be thanking. Today was the first bite from what is a very bitter apple.”

  “It wasn’t too bad. People are marking their territory right now. I get it.” She walks into her bedroom, and I hear her shut the door while I stare out at the setting sun through the big picture windows.

  The suite is palatial. It overlooks Rittenhouse Square, which is a beautiful park filled with colonial statues and public art, and directly across the tree-lined park is the state capital building. Shining out over the luscious green park, the sun peeks out from the clouds. Maybe the sun will shine again here because my mom and dad are together again. Wishful thinking, for sure.

  I pull my cell phone from my pocket and call my dad’s lawyer. “Henry Gray, please,” I tell the receptionist.

  “May I tell him who’s calling?”

  “William Bettencourt.”

  “Just a moment please.” She places me on a brief hold.

  “Henry Gray.”

  “Henry, it’s William Bettencourt.”

  “William, so good to hear from you. Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

  “I’m here with my fiancée, Quinn Faraday. Lillian kicked me out of the house, so we’re in my dad’s suite at the Rittenhouse Hotel.”

  “Well, that’s very good news. I’m sure she is quite disappointed you’ve arrived with Quinn.”

  “I hope so. You have my cell number if you need me.”

  “I do.”

  “Great. One quick question. Are the assets frozen or anything?”

  “Lillian doesn’t have access to anything. She does have her allowance, which is deposited in her account and credit cards. But she doesn’t have access until the death certificate is certified.”

  “It looked like she was spending money, so I was curious.”

  “That’s probably a pretty accurate assessment. But she won’t have access to some of the accounts regardless.”

  “Thanks. Do we need to meet before the reading of the will?”

  “No, I think we’re going to be okay. It isn’t really a lot different than what I explained to you on the phone.”

  “The house was my mother’s. She was born in that house, as was her father. I’m hoping that there is a stipulation that Lillian can live there, but it belongs to me.”

  “Yes, it is part of your trust from your mother's estate. All of her money and assets belong to you and have for some time. Did your father ever go through that with you?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe we should meet before the reading. How about two?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  I hang up the phone. It’s been such a stressful day, so I decide to put some workout clothes on. As I walk out, I see Quinn leaving her room with workout clothes on. “Great minds think alike. Where you
headed?”

  “I don’t know the area well enough to explore, so I was going to hit the treadmill in the gym downstairs.”

  “Let me call Gerald and see if he’s up for a run.”

  “I don’t want to bother him.”

  “I’ll show you both around.” I dial Gerald, and he answers after the first ring. “Gerald, we were thinking of going for a run. We can hit the treadmill in the gym if you aren’t able to join us.”

  “I’m ready now if you are.”

  “We’ll meet you in the lobby in five.”

  He disconnects the call.

  “We’re all set.”

  “I hope I can keep up with you both.”

  “You can set the pace where you’re comfortable. Gerald will be behind us. There are a couple of places to see. It’ll be a general tour.”

  “I’m looking forward to getting outside. I feel like, between the rainy weather we’ve had in San Francisco recently and being on a plane all day, that fresh air is required.”

  “I agree. It’ll be nice to get outside and breathe unfiltered air. I’ll warn you, Philadelphia has dirty air.”

  “You’re so funny.”

  “No, really. I’m serious. The air here is pretty shitty this time of year, but there are a lot of great things to see and plenty of American history is here. You’ll have a good time.”

  “You lead the way.”

  We meet Gerald in the lobby, and I walk him through my planned route. He lets us know he’ll be about ten paces behind us. The room key fits easily in the pocket on the arm of my windbreaker. After a quick stretch, we walk through the rotating doors and head north.

  We take it slow as we run the park, starting with the perimeter, and I point out the statues of William Penn who founded Pennsylvania, Benjamin Franklin, George Clymer who was from Pennsylvania and was the first to advocate the separation from Britain, and a depiction of the Second Continental Congress. We just run by the bronze statues.

  As we cut through the park, we see four different engineering pieces of public art. These are somewhat new.

  Zigzagging our way through the park, we easily cover three miles. Quinn may have shorter legs than I do, but she’s a great runner and was difficult to keep pace with.

  “That was a great run.”

  “For someone who was sure she didn’t keep a fast pace, I think Gerald is going to be suffering.”

  “Somehow I doubt that. Are you still good with a later dinner?”

  “Yep, I wouldn’t mind some rest before dinner. I’ll meet you in the living room at about eight. A favorite diner of mine isn’t too far, and they’ll still be serving dinner.”

  “Diner translates to casual?”

  “Yes. If you’re in anything other than jeans, you’ll be too dressed up.”

  “That sounds perfect.”

  I can hear her phone ringing, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s one of her clients. She takes the call in her room, talking in a low voice. I wouldn’t mind hearing it, but it might be too much—all foreplay and no action. I hate that she needs to work so hard. I somehow need to bring it up at the partners’ meeting. I know that by industry standards she makes good money, and part of her strapped living comes from her school loans, but if we were to lose her, that would be a great loss to the company and would affect our bottom line.

  After a refreshing shower and a quick nap, I’m ready to go. I pour myself a McCallen twenty-five-year-old scotch—my dad’s favorite—over some ice and wait for Quinn to join me. No pressure. Turning the television on to SportsCenter, I watch the roundup of today's sports news while I enjoy my drink.

  I hear her before I see her. “This is a beautiful hotel.”

  “It is. I think at one time or another, I’ve been in all three hundred rooms.”

  “Did you make a bet with Owen to see if you could bed the most girls in a hotel room?”

  A deep belly laugh escapes me. “We weren’t that clever. No, I worked for the hotel one year, and they were renovating, so we were moving furniture around.”

  “Why did your dad have his own suite?”

  “My dad had terrible insomnia, and Lillian hated when he wandered the house in the middle of the night, so he started staying most nights here.”

  She nods and walks to the giant window overlooking the park. You can just make out my family home’s roofline across the park beyond the large oak trees.

  “Would you like a glass of scotch before we go?” I ask.

  She eyes it, debating. “No, I better not. I’m starving, and if I start with that, it’ll be a liquid dinner, and I really need more than a hangover tonight.”

  “I promise to give you whatever you need tonight.”

  She smiles up at me, catching my double entendre, and pulls her coat on.

  Chapter twelve

  Quinn

  When we took a rideshare across town and William walked me into a dark biker bar, I was both surprised and a little bit frightened.

  The biggest, ugliest guy in the bar stood from his chair and approaches us, standing toe to toe with William. “Do you think you belong here?” he growls. The entire bar falls silent. Not even a single note of music can be heard.

  “Who do you think you are?” William spews at him.

  I have one eye on Gerald, and I’m ready to grab William by the hand and run out of the bar when the big, ugly guy grabs William and pulls him into a big hug. “You motherfucker, why didn’t you tell me you were coming to town?”

  The patrons in the bar relax and return to what they were doing, and William turns to me. “Mark, I’d like you to meet my fiancée, Quinn.”

  “You son of a bitch! I can’t believe you got engaged.” He slaps him on the back, and they laugh. He then turns to me, and I brace myself for my own bear hug. “So wonderful to meet you. Please call me Bubba. If you refer to me as Mark, no one will know who you’re talking about.”

  Gerald relaxes and finds a table close enough that he can intercede if needed but far enough away that he gives us some privacy. He keeps one eye on us at all times and the other focused on the happenings in the bar.

  Bubba motions us to a table in the back and sits with us while we order. I learn that Bubba is William’s cousin from his mother’s side. He inherited a lot of money from William’s uncle when he turned twenty-five. He fell in love with motorcycles when they were in school, and the combination of too much money and too little supervision got him into a motorcycle club that skirts the law. “I try to keep us honest, but sometimes it can’t be helped.” He shrugs. When some voices rise in a far corner of the bar, Bubba stands and says, “You two enjoy your meal. I need to calm those two down, or someone will be calling the cops.” He leaves us just as our dinners arrive.

  The food is surprisingly good—not because we’re in a biker bar but because I expected bar food, where everything is fried. I go for an interesting spinach salad, topped with strawberries, goat cheese, candied walnuts, and grilled chicken with a poppy seed vinaigrette.

  “This is really good,” I exclaim.

  “Bubba’s place actually is pretty good. He went to the Cordon Bleu in Paris and learned to cook.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “He’s a great guy. He really isn’t interested in what anyone thinks about him.”

  “I wish I had that self-confidence.”

  William looks at me funny. “I would think you had plenty of self-confidence. You even have pretty explicit phone calls with strangers. That has to count for something.”

  I put my fork down and consider his comments. “Actually, it doesn’t take much confidence to lie to a guy about what you’re wearing or will do to him. It takes an overwhelming desire to pay your bills over anything else and still remain doing what you want to do.” I don’t want to be a downer, so I attempt to change the subject. “What time are we meeting the lawyer tomorrow?”

  “Lillian and her kids are due at three, and apparently there is something from my mom’s estate I need t
o understand, so he’s asked us to come a little earlier.”

  “Do you want me to just meet you at three? I don’t want to impose or be super nosey.”

  “You’re playing the role of my fiancée, so you need to be with me. We didn’t sign a nondisclosure, but I would ask that whatever you learn this week, you don’t share company-wide.”

  “That’s not my gig, so you’re safe there.”

  We spend a little bit more time with Bubba. When we’re walking out the door, Bubba leans into William and says, “Don’t let that bitch take anything that belongs to you. And if you end up needing any help from my friends or me, you call, and we’ll be there.”

  “Thanks, man. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

  Gerald brings the car around, and we ride back to the hotel. We’re sitting so close that the heat is just sizzling off of him. He is wearing me down by his sweet and charming ways, but I must remind myself that he is a danger to me and to my heart.

  When we arrive at the hotel, Jimmy opens the car door. “Do you ever go home?” I tease.

  “I have newborn twins at home. We need the money, and honestly, I’m not sure I’d get much more sleep there than I do here.”

  “I’ve heard that about twins,” I share.

  William reaches for my hand, and we walk through the lobby to the elevators. When we reach the door to our suite, William turns to Gerald and assures him, “We’ll be in for the night, but I may need to go for a run in the morning. I’m jet lagging a bit. Let’s aim for eight. I’ll call you to be sure.”

  “Yes, sir. Have a good night.” Gerald turns and winks at me, and I suddenly feel self-conscious about what is going to happen next.

  “Would you like a glass of wine or scotch?” William asks as we walk into the living room.

  “No, I’m hitting a wall and probably need to go to bed.”

  William steps in close to me. Instinct overcomes reason. He reaches out and slides an arm over my shoulders, pulling me close to him. His body warms me as I sink into him. Warm. Solid. So very real. And when my face turns into his chest, my heart squeezes tighter.

  His broad arms wrap around me. “Thank you again for coming with me.”