I grab my phone and call El.
“Hey, everything okay?” she answers.
“How much is he paying?”
“What?”
“This lawyer…how much is he paying to be his fake fiancée or whatever?”
She laughs. “I thought you said ‘no way’?”
“That was before I came home to no power. And I don’t have nine hundred bucks to get it turned back on. How much?”
She lets out a deep breath. “Sam, just let me give you some money,” she pleads.
I explain that even if she did give me money, this would just be a recurring thing until I moved into a cheaper place. I need the money to pay off my debt, and get me moved into a place I can afford on my single salary.
“I’ll have Griffin give him a call,” she finally agrees.
“Thank you,” I breathe out in relief.
I take a quick shower, using the last of the hot water, then go out into the hall with my hair dryer to blow-dry my hair. I apply my makeup by the open window, using the last bit of the day’s light before finishing up and lighting some candles.
I’m slipping into a black dress when my phone rings. Thinking it’s Dr. McSexy, I answer without looking.
“Hey.”
“Hey, Cameron wants to meet up tonight to go over the details,” El says.
“Tonight? Noooo! What about my date?”
“I know. I told him tonight wouldn’t be good for you, but he insisted. It’s a time-sensitive issue and he wants to make sure you two click as soon as possible so he’d still have time to find someone else if things don’t work out.”
I let out a long, drawn-out breath. “Okay. I’ll cancel my date. I’m sure my virginity will grow back soon anyway. Where does he want to meet?”
She quickly rattles off an address and a time, and we hang up so I can call Dr. McSexy and cancel. He sounds truly disappointed, and I must admit I am too. We agree that we’ll get together as soon as our schedules free up, and that we’ll catch up at work.
I’m walking into an upscale restaurant in a trendy neighborhood an hour later. The waitstaff is dressed in jackets and ties, and every table is filled with ridiculously good-looking people. What the hell kind of place is this? This is much more upscale than I’d imagined. I knew he’d pick someplace fancy—a way to show off his money, I’m sure—but I’m almost afraid they won’t let me inside.
“May I help you?” the host asks with his pointy nose in the air.
“Yes, I’m meeting Cameron Styles,” I say, eyes flashing around and landing on every man I think may be him. It’s only now that I’m realizing I should have Googled the man so I’d have some idea of what he looks like.
“Right this way.” He spins around and leads me through the restaurant. In the very back is a private room. He pulls apart the double sliding doors and motions for me to walk inside, where I find a single table. The room is quiet and decorated with lavish bouquets and candles. There’s a bottle of wine chilling beside the small two-person table. But Cameron is nowhere to be found.
I take a seat at the table and the attendant immediately pours me a glass of wine. I hold up my hand to stop him. “Shouldn’t I wait?” I motion across the table to the empty chair.
“Mr. Styles has called ahead and told us to give you everything you want. He’s running a bit late, but promises he’ll be here very soon. May I start you off with an appetizer?”
I press my lips together and shake my head, opting to stick with the wine. I have a feeling I’ll need to be drunk for this.
CHAPTER FOUR
CAMERON
“I can’t believe you two talked me into this. When I mentioned hiring a woman, I just meant, you know, like an escort or something,” I say, straightening my tie as I look myself over in the mirror. For some weird reason, I actually feel nervous. Me! Nervous! I roll my eyes at how stupid I’m being.
“Sam is great. Way better than some random escort. And she really needs the money. You’re not only helping yourself, but you’re also doing me a really big favor by helping her,” El says, coming up to stand behind me, our eyes locking in the mirror.
“Why does it matter who you hire? A fake fiancée is a fake fiancée,” Griffin points out.
I turn around to address them both. “Because with an escort, I wouldn’t have to pretend to be interested or make conversation. With this woman, I’d have to do both—because if I didn’t, I’d have El chasing me around ready to rip off my balls at any given moment. And I’m quite fond of my balls, thank you very much.”
She laughs and my eyes cut to her.
She clears her throat then slowly begins closing the distance between us. She reaches up and straightens my tie. “I promise, you’ll love her.”
I flash her a grin. “Hey, Grif, can’t I just hire your fiancée instead?”
El lets out a puff of air and rolls her eyes just as Griffin snatches her away, pulling her against his chest like he needs to protect her. “She’s mine. Get your own.”
I press my lips together and shake my head disapprovingly. “What happened to sharing is caring?” I can’t hold back my grin.
“You can borrow my car, but not my fiancée and child.”
“Oh yeah, I keep forgetting that there’s a baby in there. I still can’t believe you let this dull dud knock you up.” I move my head from side to side as I look her over. El is small-framed, and now that she’s pregnant, she looks like she has a small beer belly. If you just glanced quickly at her, you would really have to look to notice she’s pregnant.
El shoots daggers at me as she holds up her middle finger.
I laugh. “I’m just fucking with you guys. Thanks for helping me out on such short notice.” I grab my jacket off the back of the dining room chair and pull it on.
“You’d better get going. I told Sam to be there at eight.”
I glance at my watch and realize she’ll be there in fifteen minutes, and there’s no way I’ll make it by then. I shrug. “I like my women to wait for me.”
“Cam, I swear, you will not treat her as your own personal call girl. You hear me?” She pulls away from Griffin and points her long index finger at me.
I hold up both hands, palms facing her. “All right. I’m going.”
I slip out the front door without another word. Sliding behind the wheel of my Tesla, I start the engine and hit the gas, taking off toward the city.
Traffic is terrible and I find myself walking into the restaurant thirty minutes late. I quickly lead myself to our private room in the back. When I step through the doors, I find a beautiful woman in a black dress standing like she’s preparing to leave.
“Samantha?” I ask, stepping up to her.
I can tell she’s annoyed with my tardiness, but she forces a smile onto her face. “Yes. Cameron, I presume.”
I flash her a quick smile as I pick up her hand and press a kiss to the top. “Please, forgive me for my late arrival. Traffic was terrible. Please, have a seat.” I motion for her to sit back down, and she does as I ask.
I walk around the small table and take my seat across from her. The whole time, my eyes never leave her. Her long, dark hair is hanging down her back, sleek and straight. Her blue eyes are the color of the ocean, but they hold a fire that hasn’t burned out from my apology. Her lips are thick and plump, and her skin is bronzed and glowing. She’s tall and thin, but has a round, luscious ass, curvy hips, and more-than-generous handfuls in her top. How is she not already taken? It boggles the mind.
“El speaks very highly of you,” I say as I grab the bottle of wine and pour myself a glass.
“Of course she does. She’s my best friend,” she states flatly, and it takes me by surprise. Suddenly, I’m understanding what’s wrong with her. She’s blunt and honest—not bad qualities by any means—but not always appreciated by everyone. People usually like their truths sugar-coated.
“I’m going to ask you a series of questions and I want you to answer honestly. After I’m do
ne, you can ask your own. Sound fair?” I level my eyes on her.
She presses her lips together and nods. “Shoot,” she says, picking up her glass and taking a sip.
“You’re a very beautiful woman. Help me understand why someone hasn’t snatched you up already.”
She doesn’t get offended like I’d expect most women would. Instead, she bites her lower lip as she thinks about it. “Well, I’m not easy to get along with. I’m pretty damn stubborn and I like things my way. I’m not good with compromise.” She shakes her head while keeping her eyes on me. “I’m also very dedicated. When I’m working toward something, I tend to have blinders on. Men don’t like when they come second to a degree or work. I’m very honest. If you ask me a question, I’ll give you an answer, but I can’t guarantee it will be an answer you will like. I’m just me—love me or hate me. Either way, I don’t care. I guess, to be fair, I also haven’t made relationships a big priority. It’s kind of hard to do when you work sixty hours a week.”
I laugh. “Fair enough. With this job, there is a certain image I need to maintain. Why do you think you’d be the best pick for me?”
“For reasons I’ve already stated. I’m dedicated. I know I said that I like to do things my way, but that doesn’t mean I can’t follow directions. This would be a job to me, and every job has rules and expectations. I may not be the best pick for you, Cameron, but I know I can do the job.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m a nurse,” she answers.
“If I give you this job, you’ll need to accompany me on a trip. Would you be able to take some time off?”
She leans forward with a serious look on her face. “You pay me enough, I’ll quit that job right now.”
That answer makes me laugh. “Okay, your turn.”
“Why do you need a fake fiancée?” she asks without missing a beat.
“I own the top law firm in Chicago. To be completely frank, I’m the best. My firm has been trying to land a certain client for years, and he’s finally within our reach. The only thing is, he’s a family man, and he’s found risky images of me online. I need to correct his assumptions of me, show him that those days are in my past, and help him see that I’m a changed man since I met and fell in love with you.” I flash her a smile.
“Why don’t you already have a woman in your life who could do it? Why do you need me?”
“I have plenty of women in my life. However, I can’t trust any of them to leave when the time comes. I have no interest in dating or marriage; I’m a single man who loves the bachelor life.”
“What does this job entail?”
Finally, getting to the specifics. I straighten my jacket as I lean forward. “If you accept this job, you will be required to act as my fiancée in every capacity. You will need to come with me to Georgia for a few days. While we’re there, you will be required to hold my hand, look at me with goo-goo eyes, and act head-over-fucking-heels in love. We’ll talk and share secrets while people are looking. You’ll be required to stay with me, so we’ll be sharing a space. You will attend all functions I attend, and lastly, you will move into my home until I’ve closed this case with my client. Once I land the client, we can fake a breakup, at which point you’ll no longer be working for me. Do we have a deal?”
“Live with you?” Her eyes grow wide.
“Trust me, I don’t like the idea either, but we have to sell this. You’ll have your own room and will be free to come and go as you please as long as there isn’t a function we have to attend. You’ll still have your job, and you shouldn’t have to take any extensive time off from it after the trip to Georgia.”
“And how much are you going to pay?”
I look her over, trying to guess how much she’d want even though I already have a number in the contract. “Fifty grand. Half when you move in, and the other half when you move out.”
“Fifty grand?” she nearly shouts.
I laugh and nod once. “I’ve already had a contract drawn up.” I reach down and pick up my briefcase. Opening it, I pull out the envelope and hand it over. “You can read it over, of course, but it states everything we just discussed.”
She takes it and nods.
I close my briefcase and place it back on the floor. “Now, why don’t we enjoy our dinner and drinks? Then I’ll take you home to look over everything, and you can get back to me tomorrow with your decision.”
“Okay,” she replies, looking a little surprised and lost. “Wait, so how do you expect me to do this—like, be a fiancée to a guy I don’t even know?”
I shrug, “I dunno, just fake it.”
She smiles and I practically see the smart-ass comment forming in her head before she even says it.
“Ah yes, faking it. You must be used to that, huh?” She bursts out laughing as she takes a large gulp of her wine.
DINNER IS MOSTLY QUIET. I ask her questions about her recent graduation and job, and she asks me questions about my firm. She asks simple questions about where I live, where I’m from, and how Griffin and I know each other. By the time dinner is done, I almost feel like I’ve made a new friend—not a best friend, but a person who knows me better than my waiter.
I pay for our dinner then lead her out to my car. When the valet pulls it up front, her mouth drops open and her eyes grow wide.
“What the hell is that?” she asks, breathless.
I smile. “This is my baby.” I click the button and the door opens for her. I love the way women get turned on when they see this car.
She slides into the leather seat and looks up at the panoramic glass top. I can’t hold back my chuckle as I walk around to get behind the wheel.
When I pull out into traffic, she finally asks, “What kind of spaceship car is this?”
A smile forms. “This is the Tesla Roadster 2.0. All the luxuries of a sports car, while being eco-friendly. Just doing my part to save the environment,” I say with a wink.
“You don’t strike me as the green type.”
“I’m not,” I reply. “But many of my clients are. People are afraid that the lawyer they hire will make them look bad if they don’t share the same values.”
“Hence the fake fiancée,” she mumbles.
I shoot her a wink and a smile.
She directs me to her apartment and I stop in front. Turning to her, I lean in.
She freezes with her lips parted, unsure.
I shrug. “Might as well make sure you’re not going to vomit from having to kiss me. Check our chemistry, if you will.” I flash my best panty-melting grin.
A look of disgust spreads across her face as she leans away from me. “Uh, nice try, but no thanks. I haven’t signed shit yet, dude.”
I can’t help but laugh at her snarky attitude; this is going to be fun. “You wouldn’t buy a car without test-driving it would you? I’d hate for our first kiss in front of the client to be a disaster.”
“So this is how you get women to go out with you, huh? You pay them?” She looks at me harder. The disgust isn’t going away, but she finally relents, leans in, and presses her lips against mine in an unceremonious way.
Her mouth is tight and firm at first, but slowly, her lips soften and allow my tongue to slip inside. Her hot tongue tangles with my own, and it sends a shiver down my spine, causing me to physically hold myself back.
It’s only been a couple weeks since the last time I was with a woman, but this kiss tells me it’s been far too long already. All I want to do is haul her ass back to my place where I can have my way with her, but this is business. And I never mix business with pleasure. Not until the business part is over with, anyway.
I break the kiss and pull away. We’re left breathless as we stare at each other, both pleasantly surprised by the connection we have.
“Well, no vomit, so that’s a good thing,” she says, breaking the silence.
I laugh and shake my head free of these confusing thoughts. “Indeed it is. Have a good night, Samantha. I look forward
to hearing from you tomorrow.”
She offers up a small smile and a nod before stepping out.
I sit in the darkness of the car, watching her long, tan legs as they walk up the steps and enter the building.
A part of me wonders if El did this to me on purpose—if she and Griffin have a bet on how badly I’ll fuck this up. Griffin knows I don’t play where I work. Maybe he knew I wouldn’t be able to resist?
I know one thing: I want her for more than a fake fiancée. I won’t let her turn down this job. Why I’m so determined to torture myself with a gorgeous woman who not only doesn’t want me but is off-limits is beyond me. This is by far the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my life.
CHAPTER FIVE
SAMANTHA
I let myself into my apartment and head straight to the living room. I drop my coat, purse, and the envelope Cameron gave me onto the couch before lighting candles throughout the room. Once there is enough of a soft glow, I sit down, pull a blanket around myself, and start reading over the contract. My mind keeps bouncing back to that kiss. I know it meant nothing, but my body certainly didn’t think so. I sure as hell did not expect him to be so hot. The problem with guys like him is they know they’re hot. They’re cocky, arrogant, and everything turns into an exhausting game of sexual innuendos. I finally push thoughts of the kiss out of my head and get back to the contract.
There is a lot of legal mumbo jumbo, but from what I can gather, it seems to explain exactly what he’s already told me. I will need to live with him from the time I sign this contract until he’s closed the deal with some major grocery chain. I will attend all public functions, and even some date nights to maintain the appearance of our relationship, and then, of course, the payment: twenty-five grand up front once my belongings are in his place, and the other half when I move out.
This deal is too good to pass up. This will give me the money I need to find a more affordable place, pay off old debts, and save money for the future so this never happens to me again. If I do this right, I’ll be set. I thought I had a hard limit with turning myself into a high-priced escort, but turns out, I don’t! There is nothing in the contract about actually having to sleep with the guy, and it even states I’ll have my own room in his house, with the ability to come and go as I please. I won’t be a prisoner to this contract. It’s nothing more than pretend and a few kisses and cuddles to sell our relationship to any onlookers.
Fake It Page 3
