My Billionaire Fake Fiance: A Romantic Comedy (Beaky Tiki Series Book 1)

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My Billionaire Fake Fiance: A Romantic Comedy (Beaky Tiki Series Book 1) Page 15

by Elyse Riggs


  “Hey, now. That’s what I thought too. Right up until this morning,” I answer with what I hope is a charming smile. It’s apparently not charming enough, though. And so far, my confession has not helped my friends understand what is going on.

  I can’t stand the tension between us. It’s awful. I already feel bad enough as it is about my sordid deal with Chase. It’s just really hard to explain everything that’s happened in the last couple of days.

  At first, I thought that the worst thing in the world would be for them to find out. Now I know that it’s them finding out after the fact and them being angry at me. Why am I having so much trouble telling them the truth?

  Angie scowls and grabs my hand to inspect the ring. Her eyes bug out for a moment as she surveys the giant rock. Then her gaze snaps up to meet mine. “Remember the ginger guy I dated that one time? The one who owned the pawn shop?”

  I nod, wondering where she’s going with this.

  “Well, the one good thing that came out of that relationship was that he taught me how to tell which diamonds real and which ones are fake. And despite how fucking gigantic and shiny this monstrosity is, it’s real. Seriously, if I didn’t know better, I’d have sworn up and down it was a cubic zirconia. But surprisingly, it’s not.”

  Her eyes get wide again as she turns my hand over and over in the light of the tiki torches while her gaze goes from the ring, to me, to Fi, and then back to the ring.

  Finally, she stops to look up at me. “Kaylee, this ring has to be worth at least six figures. Minimum.”

  It’s my turn to hang my mouth open like a codfish. I hadn’t considered what the ring is worth because of everything else going on and because none of this feels real to me. Because it isn’t. Then I remember the texts and conversation with my mom. Ugh, it’s kind of real now, whether I like it or not.

  “Who the hell are you engaged to,” Fi asks, alarmed. “Is it a drug dealer? Are they holding your family against their will? Are we next?” She leans in to whisper to me. “Are you okay, do you need us to stay in a well-lit, public place while we can call the authorities?”

  I take a deep breath and pull my hand back. “No, I’m not in trouble. And no, he’s not a drug dealer. And we definitely don’t need any authorities. Are you crazy?”

  Fi pushes my drink closer to me. “Okay, then. Drink this. And then you’re going to tell us everything, right?”

  I nod vigorously and down the drink. They watch me like they’re hawks and I’m a mouse who they are worried is going to dart away at any moment.

  It’s disconcerting. I eat a few more chips.

  “Kaylee!” Angie protests.

  “Okay, fine.” I lean in toward the middle of the table and whisper. “I am kind of, sort of engaged.”

  They fake gasp at me, the act dripping with sarcasm. Then they make those hand gestures in the universal signal that means to get on with it. So I do.

  “But it’s a fake engagement.”

  More gasping, and this time their expressions turn angry.

  I roll my eyes. “Look, I have a lot to unpack here, you’re going to want to pace yourselves, okay?”

  They lean in, sensing that I’m finally about to get to the point. Now they are listening to me with rapt attention. I glance around to make sure none of the paparazzi are within range of my whispering voice. “I’m the Covington fiancé.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Fi screams with excitement.

  Okay, so much for whispering.

  She throws her hand down on the wooden table hard enough and loud enough to make me nearly jump out of my chair. I wish she would stop doing that.

  I glare at her savagely and put a finger to my mouth. Then I indicate that there are currently a lot of tacky weirdos with cameras surrounding us.

  “Okay, back up,” Angie whispers. “You’re saying you’re engaged to Chase Covington?”

  “Seriously?” Fi jumps in. “You slept with him?”

  As I take a deep breath, I realize that Abigail has materialized at the table with more drinks. I look up at her and know that she isn’t going anywhere. And besides, I know I can trust her. “Your turn,” I say to her. “Any questions?”

  Abigail shakes her head. “Nah, I’m totally good with the answers to the questions already asked.” There’s a pause.

  “Oh wait,” Fi interrupts like she’s on a game show and she’s running out of time. “I have another one. How in the hell did you two even meet?”

  “Last night,” I start. “After my love life intervention.”

  “I knew it,” Angie blurts out loudly. Everybody within a ten-foot radius turns to stare at her. Her cheeks turn red and she presses her lips together. Then she leans in to whisper. “Sorry, I got excited. But I knew it. I knew that love life intervention would work.”

  “Of course you did,” I say. “Okay, moving on to answer your question, Fi. After you guys left the bar, that’s when I met him. You guys were encouraging me to have some fun. I ran into him again after you guys left, and he was kind of cute.”

  “What do you mean you ran into him again?” Abigail asks.

  “Literally. He was the grumpy tourist. I bumped into him and spilled his drink when I went to get a phone number for the challenge. Then he came to sit next to me at the bar.”

  “Oh yeah,” Angie says, “that guy you bumped into was Chase Covington? He looked pissed.”

  I wave my hand like it’s no big deal. “That’s not important. The important part is that we hooked up later.”

  “That’s a hell of a rebound,” Fi says. “I didn’t think you had it in you to go for the famous guy.”

  “I didn’t know who he was then. Or even during. I didn’t find out he was Chase Covington, well, until Ralph’s meeting this morning.”

  “How did you not know it was him?” Fi asks.

  “She insisted on no names,” Abigail interjects. Fi and Angie look at me and I nod.

  “What about your no tourists rule?” Fi asks with a smirk.

  “I’m sorry but you did see the pictures of him on the internet, right?” I ask them, raising an eyebrow. “Plus, I was ready to break the streak.”

  The girls squeal and pull out their phones to look him up again.

  “It was your idea to have the intervention in the first place,” I say, pointing to my friends.

  “I think what you’re trying to say is thank you,” Angie says. “Cause that intervention worked better than expected.”

  I massage my temples with my fingertips. “Like I said, I didn’t even know who he was until I tried to sneak out the next morning and got caught.”

  “Why did you sneak out?” Fi asks. “Did he suck in bed?”

  “No,” I snap back, more defensively than I meant to. “He was really, really good in bed. It’s just that it was just supposed to be a fun, one-night stand. To blow off steam and forget what happened with the last guy. A clean start. But his brother and sister were there the next morning and they caught us together, ruining my clean getaway.”

  “Oof,” Angie says. “This is like a soap opera. And it’s your life. What did you do next?”

  “Well, he’s got some corporate drama going on. A takeover. They don’t think he’s stable enough to run the company or something. His brother’s on the board and gave him a heads up. Apparently, proving that he’s in a real relationship is the only way he can convince them into letting him keep his position.”

  “Sounds like he’s well on his way to being a responsible adult,” Angie chimes in, laughing.

  “I know, right? Anyway, since the paparazzi here had already gotten pictures of the two of us together the night before, he needed me to pretend to be his fiancé, otherwise it would look even shadier if he just grabbed a girl after his job was threatened.”

  “Who’s trying to steal his company?” Fi asks.

  “Some guy named Mark. I mean who really cares? How funny is it that the villain of this story is named Mark? Who’s afraid of a guy named Mark? Oh, bett
er look out for Mark, he’s vicious.” We all share a laugh.

  Then there is a wonderful pause where nobody is mad at me because I’m telling them the truth and answering their questions. I take advantage of this time by eating more chips and salsa.

  All the while, I glance around nervously at the paparazzi. I can’t imagine what will happen if they catch wind of the conversation that we’re having right now.

  Angie takes a bite too, but she’s not even done chewing before I can see her face scrunch up with a new question. Luckily, this time, she remembers to lean forward and whisper.

  “Wait, so you’re saying you have some sort of verbal agreement to pretend to be his fiancé? What if he changes his mind? What if he skips town? You’re never going to win a verbal he-said, she-said, agreement with a family like the Covingtons.”

  “I know,” I sigh. “That’s what I thought too.” I pull out my cell phone and bring up the Paybot app on my phone. I stare at my balance and all of the zeroes. Then I hand the phone over.

  There is another round of gasps, only this time they are not sarcastic. “I told you guys to pace yourself. And whatever you do, don’t attract too much attention.”

  “Three hundred and forty-five thousand dollars?” Fi squeaks. “Wow. He can’t take it back, can he?”

  That leads to Angie pulling out her cell phone and googling if it’s possible for a Paybot sender to take the money back.

  Angie looks up at me. “Looks like he can’t take the money back, Kaylee. Unless you send it back to him, it’s yours.” She puts her phone back down on the table.

  Abigail shakes her head, waves, and then wanders off to check on her other customers.

  Fi stares at me like she’s figuring out a riddle. “Hey, wait. You were late getting here tonight. Were you two having sex?”

  “No! We’re not doing that anymore. Not since we made this agreement.” I decide not to tell them that we almost did it earlier. I feel my cheeks heat and decide it’s probably best if I change the subject. “My mom called. Chase talked to her. He was really sweet, actually. And then she wanted a selfie, so Chase and I went out on the balcony.”

  Fi and Angie look like they’re going to burst from the excitement. “What?” I ask.

  Angie goes first. “He talked to your mom? What kind of fake engagement is that?”

  Fi ignores Angie and me and grabs my phone. “Forget talking to the parents, I want to see the pictures.”

  “No!” I whisper-shout. But it’s too late.

  Angie and Fi are hovering over my phone flipping through the pics.

  “Oh my,” Fi says, “these are so adorable. How in the hell did he get you to smile without looking like you had a gun to your head?”

  Angie frowns. “What kind of fake engagement is this? Because this beats four out of the last five actual boyfriends I’ve had. And he’s Chase Covington, serial dater. According to the tabloids, he’ll never settle down. But you two look like the real deal.”

  “I don’t know about all of those stories. But he’s actually kind of sweet.”

  Fi frowns. “Kaylee, do you like this guy?”

  “Hey, it’s just a selfie,” I lie. I have to. I can’t admit to myself or to them that I’m starting to have feelings for him.

  That’s when something dawns on Fi. “Oh yeah, can you imagine what these guys would do if they realized that you were the real fake fiancé? I eavesdropped on their conversations earlier and they’re in a photographer feeding frenzy. Somebody put out a bounty. Photographers who get high enough quality digital photos of you two get fifty thousand dollars. I just didn’t know at the time that it was you they were hunting”

  “Shh…” I hiss.

  Fi covers her mouth. “You’re right. Sorry. But this is all so exciting.” She studies my face then she frowns. “Hey, why aren’t you excited?”

  I run my hand through my hair. “It’s all so complicated now.”

  “How?” Angie asks. “You already have the money, and in a few days he’ll be out of your hair. If you ask me, that’s the best weekend fling I’ve ever heard of.”

  Fi elbows Angie. “Tell us what’s wrong, Kaylee.”

  A waiter comes back and sets down another tray of Mai Tais. I wait for him to leave and then take a sip. “No, Angie’s right. This should be really easy. All I have to do is take a few days off work to live my best tourist beach life and then I can concentrate on Scrumptious Chocolate again.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” Fi says. We all raise our glasses and clink them together. Then we drink. For the first time all day, my life feels semi-normal.

  Fi breaks the silence after looking at her phone again. “He’s so sexy. Tell us, girl to girls, what’s he like?”

  “Oh yes, dish,” Angie says. She closes her eyes, then scrunches up her face and waggles her head back and forth while she does an imitation of what I can only guess is a combination of Monty Python and the Monopoly Guy. I swear, I can even half imagine her with a monocle. “Is he all oh yes, please do, that is the stuff that I like old chap?”

  “Yes,” I deadpan, “he calls me old chap in bed.”

  That brings another round of laughter. This time, it’s raucous, loud, boozy, and takes a while to subside. It feels comfortable. I just need a little while of this. It feels so good to finally have everything out in the open. I don’t like secrets and I’m an awful liar, so none of this situation is in my wheelhouse.

  After a little while more of small talk, Fi turns serious. “What can we do, Kaylee? To help.”

  I finish off my drink. “Just keep my secret. We have to convince his board of directors or whoever they are that we’re a couple by Sunday or he won’t be CEO.”

  “How are you going to do that? Do they want to watch you two do it or something?” Fi asks. “Because that’s just creepy.”

  I force myself not to laugh. “No, you’re right, that would be uber creepy and weird. Believe it or not, his plan to convince the board is to go house hunting tomorrow.”

  “No way,” Angie says.

  “Yup. First thing tomorrow I’ll be looking at beach front estates. I guess. He’s in charge of all of that.”

  That brings a new squeal. “It’s just like lifestyles of the rich and famous!” Fi says. “That sounds like so much fun.”

  “More like lifestyles of the fake and broke on my end,” I answer.

  “Not anymore, girl,” Angie corrects. “Between the ring and the bank account, you’re pretty much set for now.”

  “Well, broke has been my financial situation most of my life. So fake looking at beachfront real estate with my fake fiancé just feels wrong.”

  Angie grins. “Either way, I want details tomorrow, Kaylee.”

  “And text us lots of pictures,” Fi jumps in.

  “Will do,” I say, getting up. “I gotta get going. Early morning.”

  Then I get the group hug that I so desperately need. It helps. It’s only on the way back to Chase’s suite that I realize I have had a little bit more alcohol tonight than I usually do. I’m just so relived to finally get everything off my chest.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chase

  It’s late when I finally hear the knock on the door. I let Kaylee in. There’s a lot to tell her about the progress I made tonight on the real estate front.

  She comes in and gives me a boozy smile, placing a hand on my chest as she makes her way past me.

  “Hey, I found some great properties to look at tomorrow.” I say, still excited about tomorrow.

  “That’s great,” she says as I join her in the living area, where she’s gone to the window to stare out at the ocean.

  “Hey, are you okay?” I ask.

  I wait for an answer. Kaylee’s quiet for a moment before she turns to face me. Her being quiet should have been my first clue that something was off.

  “Hey, Chase Covington, why are you still single, anyway?”

  I don’t know what to say to that. All I know is that she’s prob
ably had a little too much to drink. This isn’t the Kaylee I know.

  She takes a step closer to me and continues. “I mean, you’re sexy, and you’re sweet. I have to say, you’re not making the fake part of this engagement easy.”

  I can feel the heat between us. Even now, my body responds to her. Because my body responds to just about everything that Kaylee does. Why is she asking me these questions all of a sudden? I decide to try to disarm her with my patented brand of smirk and sarcasm. “From everything I hear, fake engagements are far easier than the real thing.”

  Unfortunately, the joke seems to have no effect on her.

  “You’re making me all confused because I’m not supposed to have feelings for you, but I do.” She keeps eye contact with me as her hand touches my chest again and then trails downward. I take a step back.

  Kaylee gets distracted for a moment and breaks the eye contact. She glances down at the couch, which I made up earlier into a bed. I’m not going to lie, I wanted to have sex with her earlier. But I also felt bad about breaking her ground rules for the arrangement we made.

  “Hey,” she says, smoothing out the sheets. “This couch-bed isn’t really necessary, you know.” She pulls off her shirt and throws it onto the floor.

  I swallow hard and feel my pulse race. Seeing her drives me wild. I want Kaylee. More than anything. Everything she does turns me on. But not like this.

  Then, to my horror, she wriggles out of her shorts as well. “What do you say we finish what we started earlier?”

  My heart is pounding now and I’m instantly hard. I swallow again and try to breathe to calm myself. “Oh, no,” I tell her. Whatever this is, it isn’t right. She stumbles forward and I catch her. And yet, she’s still looking up at me and waiting for an answer.

  “Kaylee, I’m flattered. You have no idea how badly I want to take the rest of your clothes off right now. Trust me on this. I’ll tell you what, if you still feel this way in the morning, I’ll be happy to rip your clothes off.” It’s true on my part, but I’m positive she’s not going to be happy in the morning at all. Not with the hangover she’s going to have. “But you’re drunk.”

 

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