Faking It with the Billionaire Next Door: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romantic Comedy

by Jolie Day

  God in heaven almighty.

  No blue skin, no large head, no big eyes—perfectly human.

  Perfectly stunning.

  Fucking looking like a million bucks.

  What. The. Fuck.

  “Wow,” was all I managed to say.

  Rose.

  What a babe.

  She was wearing a red silk dress that seemed to float across her chest, while simultaneously clinging to it in the places that mattered. It had very thin straps that went over her shoulders. As I stood gawking like a fucking schoolboy who’d discovered a free-to-view porn site, she did a slow turn for me, and I was stunned silent. The dress had no back. The red material flowed around her rib cage and then dropped straight to her hips, meeting at a point just above her ass. I looked over the smooth, tanned skin of her long back. Her hair fell across her shoulders in neatly styled curls. My eyes followed the lines of her shoulder blades and slid down her bronzed arms as she turned back around again.

  She looked absolutely gorgeous tonight.

  Then she smiled.

  Not perfectly human. Perfect human.

  How had I never noticed just how perfect she was before now? That her smile was perfect? I’d always thought she was hot with a banging body, but this… this was something different.

  She and her smile had me at a loss for words, and I wondered why I’d never reacted this way to another woman before. Rose was a stunning beauty that I felt I could maybe even be with—that’s if, you know, I were to ever be with someone again.

  But, if that were the case, it would be her. Shit. Did I really just think that?

  17

  ROSE

  There was silence.

  And then more silence.

  What? He didn’t like it?

  As I stood before Miles, he had no words. When I’d first stepped out of the room, he’d looked almost scared. As if he was expecting some sort of female ghost from the underworld. Or Medusa with her “do” of snakes. I felt fixed on women with unfavorable hair, as I’d wondered what his verdict was going to be.

  Finally, he spoke. “Wow.”

  My nerves! I smiled demurely, but in reality, I was elated at his reaction.

  I’d pulled out this red slip dress that I’d had for years—I bought it from an old vintage store. It had a swooping neckline and was floor-length and backless. As I’d put it on, I wondered if Miles would notice it at all. I didn’t think he would. You know, men. By the looks of things, he certainly had.

  “Shall we?” I asked him, pulling him from his daze.

  Miles cleared his throat before saying, “Absolutely.” He gathered his possessions from the entry table and opened the door for me.

  As I strode out toward the elevator, I said over my shoulder, “Stop staring at my ass.”

  “I’m just getting into character,” Miles chuckled behind me. “A man is allowed to stare at his woman’s ass, after all.”

  I laughed and then shook my head at him, not feeling the irritation I sometimes used to at his flirty comments.

  In the car, we sat side by side in the back seat.

  Miles had a driver taking us to the event, and there was a black privacy screen between him and us. As I stared out the window at the passing buildings, my nerves continued to build. Tonight, I had to put on a show. I had to pretend to be someone I wasn’t. Well, I could still be myself, but there were untruths I had to tell about being with Miles.

  My main concern was his mom.

  I didn’t grow up with mine, but I knew from Juliette and others that moms knew their children the best. What if she could tell that I wasn’t in love with him? Or that I didn’t actually know him that well?

  Miles broke the silence, making me start. “Thank you for agreeing to join me tonight. You really do look wonderful, Rose,” he said, sincerely, looking over at me.

  “So do you, Miles. You clean up pretty well, huh?”

  I’d downplayed that comment by far. In truth, Miles looked breathtakingly handsome.

  Miles in a suit, so sexy.

  Miles in his biker gear, smoking hot.

  Miles in a tux, call the fire department.

  I had no idea a tux could look so good on such a tall, muscular man. The cut fit him perfectly, and I loved that as he sat, I could see the shape of his strong thighs through his pants. I also had to admit, I liked the clean-shaven look, and how his manly jaw moved: in this instance and in the light of the back seat, the shadow accentuated the bones more than beautifully.

  No, I did not imagine how it might feel to run a finger down his jaw, and just see how his manly skin felt. Or how his touch felt. Dammit. I felt my core warming up. No, no, no. Worst timing ever. If I got my panties wet, I was worried the moisture might seep through the red silk.

  Besides, I had enough worries on my mind.

  “Miles? I feel we’re not entirely prepared,” I said, to get my mind off my naughty thoughts, in the same time, trying to calm my nerves.

  “We’re plenty prepared. Don’t stress. It’ll just be normal conversation.”

  “Okay, but this is our last chance to get our stories straight.” I shifted in the seat, facing him now. We’d gotten to know each other a little better over the last couple of days, after our trip to the pier, but I was still nervous. “Let’s do a quick round of questions.”

  Miles turned to face me, an expectant look on his face. “I’m game. How hard will these question be?” he asked. “Jeopardy-standard or College Bowl? Master Minds? I bet you’re gonna love my specialist subject.”

  “Easy ones—about us,” I replied dryly, ignoring his attempt at humor.

  “Okay.” He settled back against the seat’s leather. “Shoot.”

  “Favorite color?” I started.

  “Rose, nobody is going to—”

  “Just answer.”

  “Red. I guess. Like your dress. Yours?”

  “Red, too. Favorite season?”

  “Summer. Yours?”

  “Spring. Favorite food?”

  “What is this, Twenty Questions?”

  “Literally! Now answer!”

  “Ha ha.” He shook his head. “All right, all right. My favorite food is, let me think—lasagna. Yours?”

  “Mine is veggie stir-fry. But I love all kinds of plant-based food. Favorite animal?”

  “A wolf.”

  “Really? Why a wolf?”

  “A wolf possesses high intelligence and strong instincts, and I figured, even though I’m reeking of these traits, more can’t hurt. I’ve got a wolf tattoo on my back.”

  I sucked in a breath. “Can I see it?”

  I was surprised that he thought about it. Of course, I didn’t mean here, in the car.

  “You want me to undress here, in the car?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I teased, without hesitation.

  He actually thought about it. Could you believe this man? With stormy eyes, he rumbled, “Maybe another time.” Still, there was a hint of seriousness in his expression that I wasn’t accustomed to. I could tell the tattoo meant a lot to him.

  “What’s your favorite animal?” he asked.

  “Cat. Come on. Miles.”

  “Right, of course.” He gave a short chuckle. “Duh.”

  “Okay, hmmm… what next… Oh! What’s your biggest pet peeve?”

  “My biggest pet peeve? Shit. Ah, when cars don’t give me space when I’m on my bike. If the driver is too selfish to just move over slightly so I can pass him, I want to smash his fucking window in.”

  “Okay, fair enough. Mine is when I get stuck in my building elevator with a cocky douche.”

  “Ha ha. Funny.”

  “Especially when he tries to grab my boob.”

  “Rose, for Christ’s sake. Would you stop? I did not try to grab your boob.”

  “Calm your jets, big boy. I know that,” I said. “I mean I know that now since I know you better.”

  “Good.”

  I continued. “Okay, for real, ah, my bigges
t pet peeve is when I get cold feet.”

  “Seriously?” Miles raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Yes, having cold feet is the worst. Sometimes they’re cold, sometimes they’re not.” I held up my hands in exasperation.

  Miles began laughing. “Fuck that shit. I admit, that’s pretty pet-peevy.”

  I laughed as well, then. After a few good seconds, Miles shook his head, “Okay, seriously, all this isn’t something my family would ask.”

  “I guess you’re right.” I thought for a second. “What is your ultimate goal in life?”

  Miles raised both eyebrows in interest, liking the question. “That’s a tough one,” he said, “I’ve got many, but—for the purpose of the evening—let’s go with the company. One of my ultimate goals is to build up the company even more and expand into different sectors of property development.”

  “You know, I didn’t expect that. I like that. But I just realized I actually don’t know much about your job.” I wondered how I could have missed this.

  “Well, I’m the COO, right, the Chief Operating Officer. Basically, I find deals and make sure they go through.”

  “That sounds really impressive. What deals exactly?”

  “I find property to invest in, then have it built up and sold off for a profit.”

  “Oh okay… that makes sense. Do you like it?”

  “I do.” He nodded. “When I say I want to expand into different property sectors, I mean we could get involved in different industries like health, industrial, or hospitality, instead of just residential and commercial. It excites me to think of what we could do in this city.”

  “That’s really great, Miles,” I smiled at him and paused. “You know what?”

  “What?”

  “I’m glad I can help you keep your job, then, in some way.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate it.” He gave me a genuine smile back, his blue eyes sucking me in. “So? How about you?” he asked, waking me up from my dreamy daze.

  I thought for a while, my mouth pulled to one side. “Well…” I wondered if I should tell him the truth, or just not tell him to avoid the embarrassment. I couldn’t think of a something else on the spot, so I went with the truth. “I don’t have a family. I’d like to have a family. And be madly happy with my family.”

  “You don’t have a family?”

  “Besides Daisy and Juliette, no, I don’t.”

  Miles bent his head to see my face even better, and then touched my arm softly with his hand, making my whole body tense up. “You will, Rose. One day, I know you’ll make it happen.”

  He smiled when I looked up at him. We locked eyes, and my heart skipped a beat. I smiled back, willing this moment to pass. I was starting to feel jittery when I realized we were almost there.

  “One more question,” I said, breaking the tender moment. “It should be an easy one that I’m pretty sure will come up.”

  “Let’s have it,” Miles replied.

  “What do we do for fun together?”

  “Besides sex?” he asked.

  “Hey. Stop it.”

  “Easy. We ride my bike.”

  “Good. Do we tell them that I moved in?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Too soon. We don’t want to go like a bull at a gate.”

  “Okay, I agree, we’ll tell them another time. What else, ah, what movies do you like? They might ask that, right?”

  “I like older movies,” he said.

  “Really? Me, too! I love older movies. We could say that our favorite is ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s.’”

  He shook his head. “That’s a movie?”

  “You’ve never seen it?”

  “Hell no. Rose, I’m a man.”

  “It’s such a nice love story, and it plays in New York City, and there’s a cat in it, too!”

  “And?”

  “It’s the story of a young woman who meets a young man when he moves into her apartment building.”

  “Okay, no. Let’s say our favorite movie is ‘The Gladiator.’” Miles had his hand in the air as if to say “obviously.”

  “Na-ah. Never seen it, and it’s not an old movie,” I protested.

  “It’s an old story,” he dismissed my criticism. “He’s a born leader, always leading from the front, seeking freedom, and then he fucks everybody up wanting vengeance for horrible injustice. He fights for something he believes in. He isn’t afraid to die. He stands for something.”

  I gaped at him, shaking my head “definitely not,” still trying to grasp the moment. Our movie tastes couldn’t be any more different.

  This was going to be a disaster.

  “He has a small turtle,” Miles added. “Wait, no, that’s ‘Rocky.’”

  “Well now, look at that… we can say we had our first little spat over ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’ and ‘The Gladiator.’” I winked, and he shook his head at me.

  “That’s how you make memories.”

  At least I had something to go on. If his mom asked questions, I had something to work with.

  Oh, dear Lord, please help me get through this evening.

  18

  ROSE

  When we arrived, Miles stepped around the car and helped me out. He held his hand out as if it was the most natural thing, as if we’d done it a thousand times. When I put my hand in his, it felt shockingly nice—it almost kicked the breath out of me—so unusual, and intimate, as if we were closer now that we’d held hands.

  Well, this is it.

  I’m technically his girlfriend now.

  His hand felt so strong and protective around mine, and I realized just how big his hands were. Mine disappeared in his, and somehow, I liked that. I felt almost sad when I was out of the car, and he let go of it.

  We walked along the carpet to the entrance of the impressive building where the benefit was being held. Miles placed his hand against my lower back, to guide me. It burned as it sat there, and it was all I could think about. Get your shit together, Rose. I admonished myself as we entered the fabulously decorated hall.

  I was glad for the distraction as I looked around the room. There were sparkling chandeliers hanging over big, round tables that had been tastefully set in shades of red. Across the room were massive bouquets of flowers, the overall theme being red roses.

  Wow, could this be any more romantic?

  I groaned inwardly, already sensing my resolve cracking.

  Miles slid his hand from my lower back, right up to my shoulder as we stood, looking around the room. I hoped he wouldn’t notice the array of goosebumps spreading down my arms retracing the feel and exact path of his hand sliding across my skin.

  “My mom and dad should be here somewhere,” he said, “Ah, there.” He’d spotted his parents and then looked at me. “All right, let the show begin. Ready?”

  “Ready-ish.”

  He smiled at me—lovingly—perfectly in character now, and I smiled right back, trying my best to get into character. I knew all this was a show, but what about this electricity? Did he not feel it?

  Miles must have seen the doubt in my expression, because he stopped to face me. “Don’t be nervous. Look like you’re madly in love.”

  “Miles,” I hissed and looked at him with a flat expression. “Anybody would be nervous to meet the parents. It would be unnatural if I weren’t.”

  “Just relax. We have nothing to worry about. This will go perfectly.”

  “Okay,” I said, mustering up courage and getting my game face on. “Let’s do it.”

  There were a lot of presentations and conferences in the marketing industry, so in a way, I was already well practiced in conjuring up a smile for a group of people I needed to impress. What I wasn’t too experienced in was masking my nervousness before a pitch or an event that was important to me. Like this one.

  Miles sensed my tenseness, and he put out his elbow for me to hold. Quickly, and gratefully, I wrapped my arm around his. I’d have to try and ignore the feeling of his biceps now. G
reat.

  As we strode across the room, all eyes were on us. It seemed we were the couple of the week, and whispers began fluttering about us.

  I held onto Miles’ bicep a little tighter.

  My nerves wobbled.

  Why was I so nervous? Why was he so calm? You’d think it was my inheritance that was at stake.

  I tried a steady breath in and looked around, noticing several people that I’d met before at previous benefits with my dad. A group of fashionable women stood chatting to one side, and as some turned to look at us, I nodded my head politely. Among the group was a woman I’d met at an event not unlike this one, a few years ago. Of course, I hadn’t been holding the arm of a fake financé who was paying me a million dollars to dupe his parents back then.

  Ooh, those nerves were speaking to my psyche! She smiled and gave a little wave. I smiled back, actually happy about the feeling of fitting in better.

  We finally reached Miles’ parents.

  “Mom, Dad, please meet Rose Taylor, my lovely girlfriend,” Miles said, beginning the introductions, his hand back on my lower back.

  “Well, well,” said the tall, elderly gentleman with gray hair. Charles Henry Humphries, if I remembered correctly. “We didn’t know you had a girlfriend, Miles. Helen, did you know?” He turned to his wife.

  “No, honey! But this is such a lovely surprise,” the elegant woman with a few funny freckles around her nose said, “Rose, was it? How wonderful to meet you!”

  I tried my most delightful smile, holding my hand out to each of them respectively. “Mr. and Mrs. Humphries, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  “Oh, honey, please call me Helen.” She pulled me in for a big hug, and I was surprised.

  No, I was stunned.

  I didn’t expect Miles’ parents to be this nice. His mom! As affectionate as could possibly be with the warmest eyes. His dad! Hello? Heck, Mr. Humphries was threatening to cut his inheritance, so I’d thought he’d be a jerky, domineering, strict, and stuck-up father. But here he stood, just as charming as his kind wife who released me from her hug with a genuine smile.

  “Thank you, Helen.” I gave her a genuine smile back—I didn’t have to fake it. Not that it would have taken much work. Maybe the relief at discovering they were actually nice people helped me to relax.