This is definitely a bad idea.
“What about Christina? She’s confident and sexy…”
“Christina could work,” Ange chimes in, her tone hopeful.
“No,” he replies sternly. “It’s her or no one.”
I see Ange and Chuck exchange a wary glance.
“I… I’m… I don’t know what to say.”
“Yes would be good,” Masen replies.
“Why? Why would I do that?”
I didn’t intend to voice that question aloud, but apparently my mouth didn’t get the memo.
“How does a million dollars sound?” he replies lazily, leaning back against his seat, casual as anything, like he didn’t just offer me a shit load of money to be his fake girlfriend.
“Jesus Christ, Masen,” Chuck growls.
“Oh my goodness.” Ange gasps.
“What?” Masen shrugs, unfazed. “If she’s going to have to live with my ass for the next however long, she deserves to be paid well.”
A million dollars.
I feel like I’m going to puke.
“Live with?” I question, my voice no more than a harsh whisper.
“No woman of mine would be living anywhere but with me,” he says, alpha rolling off him in waves.
“I think we need to discuss this arrangement in private,” Chuck insists.
Masen waves him away, his eyes still fixed on mine. “You’re up for it, right, Billie?” His voice caresses my name and my insides turn to mush.
No, my brain tells me. NO. I’m not up for it at all.
So when my mouth opens and I reply, “yes,” I think I’m more shocked than anyone else.
***
“You’re going to need to slow down and start again from the beginning,” Avery demands, talking to me like I’m a small child losing the plot.
I suck in a shallow breath.
“I need you to sign this.” I thrust the neat stack of papers in her direction.
“What’s this?” She frowns.
“It’s an NDA; I promised you’d sign it before I told you anything.”
“But you just told me stuff and I haven’t signed it yet.”
“Just sign it!” I reply quickly, my voice rising an octave.
She rolls her eyes and grabs a pen. “Fine, fine, calm your tits.”
I pace the room as she flicks through the papers, signing a non-disclosure agreement, similar to the one I signed earlier today. Ange put little colour-coded sticky tabs on every spot she needs to sign.
She drops the pen. “There, done, now take a deep breath and tell me what the hell is going on.”
I do as she’s asked, taking a long, deep breath, in through my nose and out through my mouth.
Avery has been my best friend for years, and my roommate since we finished high school. Neither of us were dorm kind of girls, so we got a flat together, close to campus.
I’m still pacing the room as I breathe.
“Sit,” she demands, “You’re making me jumpy.”
I fall into the closest chair.
“I got called into a room with Masen Lennox, his manager, and his PR lady, right?”
“Right.”
“They want Masen to clean up his public image, after, you know…”
“After he became a total ass and drank himself into a stupor?” she offers.
I wouldn’t have been quite so harsh, but she’s not exactly wrong about it either. The guy really hit rock bottom for a while there.
“Essentially, yeah…”
She nods. “And how exactly do you fit into this?”
“They think he needs a girlfriend… well, a fake one anyway, so it looks like he’s sober and getting on with his life.”
“Hold up. Looks like he’s sober?”
“I mean, he is sober.” I roll my eyes. “That doesn’t give him a squeaky-clean image just yet, but he’s off the booze.”
“You sure?”
I nod. “Ninety days and counting.”
She seems satisfied by that answer, and I’m thankful we can move on, whether or not he’s still drinking isn’t even the bit blowing my mind.
“So the girlfriend…?”
I sigh. “That’s apparently where I come in. I’m the girlfriend.”
Her eyes widen and she blinks, once, twice, three times without speaking.
“I know, right?” I drop my head back against the couch and shut my eyes. “It’s a complete clusterfuck.”
“How? Why? What?” she stutters.
“My thoughts exactly.” I groan, sitting back up to look at my gaping best friend. “He just pointed to the nearest female I think, and before I knew it, he was offering me a million dollars to play along and calling me hot as fuck.”
“What the actual hell?”
I nod furiously. “I know… and then he said he wouldn’t do it with anyone but me, and I don’t know, I felt responsible for his reputation or something.”
“A million dollars?” she questions, ignoring my rambling.
I nod. “That’s what he said.”
“And you said yes?”
“What would you have said?” I raise my brows at her.
She grins wickedly. “I probably would have done it without the million bucks.”
“You just said he was an ass.”
She nods. “He is, but god he looks good doing it.”
I huff out a laugh. Can’t argue with that.
We sit in silence for a few beats, both of us absorbing this information.
“Did you just become Masen Lennox’s private hooker?”
“I think I did.”
I’m pretty sure the million-dollar contract sitting on my kitchen table makes it legit.
“Do you have to… you know?” She makes a circle with one of her hands and pokes her finger through.
I glare at her, outraged. “There is no way I’m having sex with him.”
“You say that now…”
“This is purely business.”
She snorts. “Purely business, in no way influenced by the sex appeal of your new business partner?”
I shake my head, lying to myself. “Nope.”
She snorts out a laugh. “Alright then.”
“All I have to do is live at his house, go places with him and act like I’m in love. No big deal.”
“Hold the phone, live with him?”
I clear my throat. “Um, so yeah… turns out I have to live at his place.”
“Because that sounds like a normal relationship progression,” she replies, sarcasm dripping from her tone.
“The story is that we’ve been seeing each other in private since he got out of rehab.”
“Of course you have.”
We stare at one another for a few seconds.
“This was a terrible idea, wasn’t it?” I groan.
“I think it might have been, but hey, it might be fun… and it’s not like the view will be bad… ooooh, you should see if he’ll buy you new clothes and stuff.”
“You would be thinking about free shit.”
“Uh, yeah,” she replies as though it was a stupid thing to doubt.
I hide my face in my hands. “I’m not cut out for this. Why couldn’t he have picked you out of a crowd? You’d be perfect.”
“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or if you just d-low called me a hooker…”
I groan again. I can’t believe this is really happening.
“They want me there this afternoon.”
“Well, you better get packing… Are you allowed to have sleepovers in his mansion? Because I’m going to need to see it with my own eyes.”
I drop my hands to my lap and shake my head. “You really think I can pull this off?”
She nods. “You’ve got this. Just be careful, B, a guy like Masen Lennox could chew up and spit out a sweet girl like you.”
I sigh.
Don’t I know it.
CHAPTER THREE
Masen
“Don’t look at me
like that, this was your fucking idea. You and Ange can only blame yourselves when this goes to shit.”
“I thought you’d hire a pro,” Chuck grumbles, “Not pick up some fucking intern… and a million dollars? Are you sure you’re not drinking again?”
I glare at him.
I’m all too fucking sure.
I’d kill for a drink right now, but I won’t have one.
Even I can see that alcohol and me don’t go well together, but that doesn’t make me crave it any less.
“She’s going to be here in five minutes, why don’t you fuck off with the pacing?”
He flips me off, and I chuckle under my breath.
“What are you freaking out about now? It’s just a chick. Maybe we should have got you one too. Might have got you to relax a bit.”
“Got another mil lying around, do you?”
“Matter of fact, I do.”
“You’re such an arrogant prick.”
“Doesn’t make it any less true.”
“You know what? I thought the price tag was unreasonable, but now I’m starting to wonder if you should have offered her double that to put up with you.”
I waggle my brows. “I might just offer performance-based incentives.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Don’t even fucking think about it. This isn’t some groupie chick that’s down for the game, this is an innocent little girl.”
“She’s hardly a little girl.”
“She’s still technically a fucking teenager, Masen, I know you’re young too, but shit, this girl is a normal young. She hasn’t been exposed to the world you live in, and you’re going to have to try and shield her as much as possible.”
I wave him off. She’s a grown woman for fuck’s sake, I’m not going to be holding her hand – not unless we’re in public anyway.
I’m not going to be sleeping with her either, no matter what I might say to Chuck. You don’t mix business with pleasure. I know that. And besides, she’s sweet. Sweet isn’t my thing.
“Seriously, Masen – don’t. She’ll fall in love with you and you’ll crush her, I can see it coming.”
I scowl at him.
“Because I’m so fucking charming?” I snap sarcastically.
“Hasn’t deterred the rest of the female population.”
Fuck that. They only like the idea of me. There’s not a woman in the world who really knows me and that’s not about to change.
“Sir, your guest has arrived.” Morris appears behind me, startling me. He’s always fucking sneaking around.
“I need to get you a collar with a bell on it,” I mutter.
“I’d really prefer if you didn’t.”
“Did you let her in?”
He nods. “Yes, Sir. I’ll give you a moment to get acquainted while I take her bags up to her room.”
“Oh, you’re not going to make her share your bed too? How fucking noble of you,” Chuck drawls.
“I thought I told you to fuck off,” I hiss as her car comes into view.
I do a double take out the window at the piece of shit car that just parked in my driveway.
Chuck laughs. “Bad luck, looks like you’re going to be buying a new set of wheels.”
“She can take her pick out of the garage,” I mutter, unconcerned.
A car is the least of my worries.
I watch as she climbs out of the car and stretches her arms high above her head, her top riding up to reveal her tanned, toned stomach. She’s wearing the shortest shorts known to man and her long legs are on full display.
“Christ,” I say on an exhale.
So much for sweet not being my thing.
Her being here might all be an act, but the sudden urge I have to fuck her is as real as they come.
Fuck.
She strolls around to her boot and pops it open before lugging out a huge suitcase which she promptly drops to the ground near her sneaker-clad foot.
She obviously doesn’t realise we have help for that.
“Fuck’s sake,” I growl as she pulls out another huge bag and glances up at the house.
“Morris!” I yell, “She’s piling shit all over the drive. Can you take care of it?”
“Certainly, Sir,” he calls back. I hear the front door open and then I see him rushing out towards her, yelling to her that he’ll sort it out for her.
She smiles brightly at him, and I scowl.
“Go and get her you little prick.” Chuck shoves my shoulder.
“I’ll tell you what,” I bargain, “I’ll go and bring her in, as long as you’re gone by the time I get back.”
“Try not to break her,” he mumbles before walking away to leave out back.
I run my hand through my hair and try to dull the urge I have to jump in my car and head for the nearest bar.
I can do this.
I have to do this.
I can tolerate a woman in my house for a few months.
I can get my shit back together.
Morris points her in the direction of the house, and I cuss. “Looks like I haven’t got any fucking choice anyway,” I hiss to myself.
***
“That’s your room.” I point inside the room and she looks in with interest. “Morris will have all your shit in there soon.”
“Where’s your room?”
I point up. “Third storey. I don’t really use this level, so it’s all yours.”
She nods, her head bobbing up and down, her long, wavy hair spilling around her shoulders.
Brunettes aren’t even my type, but there was just something about this girl that felt right from the second I laid eyes on her – like she was the only girl for the job. Seeing her here, in my house, that feeling has intensified tenfold.
She wanders along behind me. I pause at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to my room, considering taking her up, but think better of it.
“You won’t need to go up there.”
She nods. “Okay.”
I pass the staircase and head down the hall, then back downstairs and out back into the yard.
I point. “Pool. Sauna. Gym.”
“You have a gym and a sauna?” she asks, her tone impressed.
I glance over my shoulder at her. She’s a lot less tongue-tied today.
“Got a recording studio and a bowling lane in the basement too.”
Her eyes light up. “You’re kidding?”
“Do I look like I make jokes?”
She lifts one of her shoulders. “I don’t feel qualified to answer that yet.”
I eye her curiously. The ‘yet’ on the end of that sentence concerns me.
“Right… well… Morris is here if you need anything, dinner is at seven, and if you see a blonde dude roaming around, it’s just Josh, a mate of mine… sometimes he crashes in the pool house.”
“Alright.” She nods, her gaze wandering around the outdoor area. “So, what do you want me to do now?”
“Whatever the fuck you want,” I reply lazily.
She frowns at me, her warm hazel eyes confused. “What do you mean? You’re paying me to be here, and what? I’m just meant to relax by the pool?”
I shrug as I turn to walk back inside. “When we’re not in public, I couldn’t care less what you do.”
I hear her following me. “I’m still allowed to go to classes, right?”
“Just told you, sugar, don’t care. As long as nothing you do reflects badly on me, then we’re good.”
Her hand lands on my bicep, and I stop walking, spinning around to face her.
Her hand drops like I’ve given her an electric shock. “Sorry, I… um… I…”
There she goes, fucking stuttering again.
“I just don’t see what the point of me being here is.”
I reach out and grasp a handful of her long hair. I tug it gently and she gasps. “The point, is that tomorrow, our relationship is going to be ‘leaked’ to the press, and if you weren’t here with me, you’d get hounded. As it is,
you’re going to have to make some changes.”
Her eyes widen as they trail from my hand, up my arm to meet my gaze.
She looks worried. It’s like she never considered what any of this would mean for her life.
There’s a reason I felt compelled to offer her a million dollars.
“What kind of changes?” she whispers.
“A new car for starters.” I drop her hair and turn, walking away again. “A new wardrobe, a bodyguard… you name it, sugar.”
I’m in the doorway when she calls after me, “Masen!”
I stop, but don’t look back; her curiosity is exhausting me. I don’t have the patience to play babysitter. That’s what Morris is for.
I expect more rapid-fire questions, but what I get surprises me. “Why do you keep calling me ‘sugar’?”
“Because you’re too fucking sweet.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Billie
I reach for my phone from the sun lounger next to me.
I feel like all I’ve done for two days is work on my tan.
Masen excused me from my internship at the record label, and as much as that pissed me off, I have to admit it has been nice to have nowhere to be for an entire weekend.
He wasn’t joking about it when he said my life was going to blow up once they leaked our story to the press.
They dug up my old high school pictures to print in gossip magazines, my Instagram followers are now in the hundreds of thousands, my Facebook friend requests went so wild I had to deactivate my account, and reporters kept calling my old phone number to the point where I tossed it in the pool.
Morris got me an expensive new phone, brand new sim card, and if I thought that was overwhelming, it was nothing compared to when he took me to the garage and told me to choose a new car to drive. Apparently, it was Mr. Lennox’s request that I travel in style.
I’ve barely seen Masen since he showed me around. We’ve eaten dinner together each night, but considering he makes a living writing music and singing, he sure doesn’t say much.
I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing – he makes me nervous, but I also feel a bit ripped off spending all my time on my own – I’m not sure how I’m meant to pretend I’m in love with him if I don’t know a single thing about him.
Mr. October: A Rock Star Romance (Calendar Boys Book 10) Page 2