“What’s your name?”
“Eva.” I didn’t have to ask his. Beckett Parshall King. Twenty-eight-year-old tech giant. Born and raised in Montana, and a self-made millionaire, which totally wasn’t fair because the man came from loads of oil money.
“Beck King. What’d my grandmother tell you when she hired you?”
“I’ve never talked to your grandmother, Beck King. I don’t know who you think I am—”
“Good try, but I’m onto her games.”
“That makes one of us.” He thought I was someone else, and my brain was shutting down. What could I say I was doing here when he figured out I wasn’t who he thought I was?
“Did she think that feigning ignorance would actually work?”
“I swear I don’t know your grandma, but I’ll go out on a limb and guess her name is Mrs. King? If so, that’s all I know about her.”
He scrutinized me. Realization dawned in his eyes, then a predatory smile lit his face. He stepped back to look me over again. The warm flush moving along my body with his gaze had me shifting my stance.
“It would be Mrs. Boyd, actually. Want a job?”
My mouth dropped open. Of course I’d give that a hard pass, but…I had been here looking for a way to worm into his empire. To rot it from the inside out until Beck King was couch-bound and despondent like my brother.
“Why would I need a job?” I had two already, but his offer was intriguing.
He stepped around me to open the door to the office building. I hadn’t dared wander inside. Today was just for recon. I’d learned all I could online about Beckett and it was time to gather information on him personally.
“Come inside,” he said. “We’ll talk.”
Was it my lucky day? Should I buy a lottery ticket? The only way it could get even better was if he sat down and told me his deepest, darkest secrets. Everyone had dirt on them and Beckett wasn’t any different. I only hoped he had enough dirt to ruin his reputation in the tech world and cost him his fortune.
It was a long shot to say the least, but I had to do something. For my brother.
“After you,” Beckett prompted.
I stared at him. He held the door like it was a given I’d enter. “I don’t know you.”
“You’ll want to. Trust me.”
Bold statement. I hated that he was right but loved that he was so wrong about why. Whatever he had in mind, it wasn’t what I was after.
“We’ll see about that.” I strode inside, then stalled. Where was his office? I had only gawked at the building from the outside. The inside was a maze of plate-glass-windowed offices. It was hard to tell where one business stopped and the next one started. I wanted to run but I’d end up like a pigeon in a pinball machine, slamming from wall to wall.
He took the lead so naturally. What was it like to go through life like that? Expecting people to obey his commands. Not worrying about bills. Strutting through this building like he owned the place. He probably did.
Beckett ushered me down a hallway. Like prairie dogs popping out of their holes, the employees of the businesses we passed rubbernecked and stared. I didn’t have to look hard to know that several people admired Beckett as he walked by. Hell, I wanted to swoon with them.
He had a swagger I didn’t see too often. Probably the result of growing up on a ranch. A wild horse could charge by, and he’d swing up onto it, suit and everything. At a glance, one wouldn’t know the man could herd cattle, fix fences, and whatever else ranchers did. They just knew from looking at him that he had authority.
Beckett King in real life almost made me abort my mission. Why did I think that me, little Eva Chase, could destroy this guy?
He unlocked the door to a smaller office. It, too, had glass windows but only a sparse waiting room with earth-toned chairs, wooden coffee tables, and a walnut reception desk the size of a family sedan. Unlike the clean lines and modern appeal of the corridor, his office was sophisticated. Old school.
“Not what I expected.” This space suggested money but didn’t scream it like the rest of the building.
“It was like this when I bought it. I didn’t want to deal with a remodel.”
“You mean you don’t own the whole building.” Maybe he was more accessible than I’d thought.
But his knowing look and that arrogant smirk said he wasn’t.
“Seriously? You do?” I sighed. Did I leave now and scold myself for being naïve about me versus Beckett King? Or did I stay and have it proved over and over again?
Who was I to go up against a guy who could buy a freaking office center in downtown Denver? During the week, I worked for a caterer, delivering heavy trays of divine-smelling food I could never afford. I remained invisible in my crisp white shirt and black pants as I served faceless people and cleaned up the mess they left behind. But it paid more than minimum wage. Then on weekends, I bartended at a local sports bar and my boss didn’t care how hard I smacked a patron who tried to grab my ass.
But something about me had caught his attention. I had my in and I couldn’t blow it. If he found out who I really was, what would he do? I couldn’t sink much farther and my brother was already at rock bottom.
“Let’s talk in my office.” He led me through the waiting area.
The wall behind the reception desk hid his office door, accessible from either side of the divider. He punched in a key code and opened his door. His office was equipped with the tech he was known for. He could probably log into the security app on his phone and see every square inch of this place.
I’d had to drop cable TV after Adam lost his job.
“Have a seat.” Beckett gestured to the plush seat across from a minimalist modern desk. No wood in here. It was all sleek lines and open surfaces. Rounding his desk to his chair, he unbuttoned his suit jacket and shrugged it off.
Oh my God, him in that fitted vest… Was this a test of my dedication to destroy him? It was hard to be equally vengeful and lustful toward the same person.
No, it was actually quite easy.
The sight did not disappoint. The flex of his biceps as he hung the garment on a hook behind his desk made my mouth go dry. The flash of a rock-hard ass as he twisted was just unfair. I was at a severe disadvantage—I doubted I affected him in nearly the same way.
“So.” He settled into his ergonomic Herman Miller chair and leaned back. “I need an administrative assistant.”
I blinked. That was his job offer? “And you’re willing to hire me off the street only knowing my name is Eva?”
“For this, yes. It’ll be temporary. Four months, but of course, if you work out, I’d be happy to extend the position.”
“Sounds amazing,” I deadpanned.
A faint smile touched his lips. His bottom lip stuck out just barely past his first, giving him the sexiest permapout. When combined with his smoldering dark eyes, the look made a temporary four-month position as his bitch almost seem desirable.
“There’d be a background check,” he said.
“I certainly hope so.” I should be worried, but I wasn’t. Adam and I didn’t share a last name. Adam had his bio dad’s last name, Dickerson, and while my dad had adopted him in every way but the legal one, my parents had just never gotten around to the paperwork. And thanks to Adam, there was nothing criminal in my background.
Familiar guilt ate at my insides. No matter how unqualified I was for this job, I had to see it through.
“There’s a catch,” he said.
“Do tell.”
“You see, ever since Grams learned my executive assistant resigned and moved away over a year ago, she’s been sending qualified applicants.” Beckett gave me a pointed look. “Attractive, presumably single women who see me as a future payday. They’re no longer interested in the job when they find out it doesn’t lead straight to my bank account.”
His honesty was startling but the story was intriguing. Who’d want to marry their grandson off like that? And he called his grandmother Grams?<
br />
“Does your grams own part of your business?” My respect for Beckett dipped. So much for a self-made millionaire. His money went way back.
“No, but she knows they can do the job and that I won’t kick them out on their asses for her interference. I have a soft spot for Grams.”
That almost made Beckett sound like a nice guy.
I can see Grams is trying another route this time. Yeah, I seriously doubted those candidates had looked like me. They’d blend with the rest of the employees in this office building.
Tension filled my muscles. Beckett hadn’t been rude, but I didn’t want to sit around hearing about how I was the perfect fugly duckling to get his grandma off his back.
I thought back to his comment about his bank account. “Why would they think that?” Anyone who married into the Kings probably got carpal tunnel signing the prenups.
He considered me for a long time. If he couldn’t answer simply, it must be a hell of a story. Was it exactly what I was looking for?
“Grams has an ulterior motive and it doesn’t include ensuring my meetings and travel itineraries line up.” He kicked a leg over one knee. His slick loafers were as black as his suit, same with his socks. He rubbed his lower lip between two fingers and I couldn’t look away. “I have a trust.”
“Sure.” A lot of people did. Not me. I served people who had trusts.
“I can access it on my thirtieth birthday if, and only if, I’ve been married for at least a year.”
Rich-people drama was so much juicier than regular folks’ issues. “What happens if you’re still single? Or if you get married at twenty-nine and a half?”
There was that faint smile again. “Mama made her terms clear. Not only would I not receive it, but someone else would.”
According to a newspaper article I’d found, his mom had passed away nearly twenty years ago. That was a hell of a trust to set up for a twelve-year-old kid.
He folded his hands in front of him and looked me in the eye. I wanted to squirm under the intensity of his gaze. “The money will go to someone outside my family, someone who doesn’t deserve it, a family that—” His jaw clenched and he glanced away. “I find I’m caught between wanting the funds just because my grandparents and parents worked so hard for them, and letting them go because I don’t want anyone dictating who and when I marry.”
Details started clicking into place. Temporary. Four months. He turned twenty-nine in four months and would need to say “I do” before then to access his trust. He wanted me to hold down his office so he could find a willing bride.
Irritation built. Guys like him thought people like me were disposable. I wasn’t going to leave two jobs to pretend to be an executive assistant for four months. Then I’d be on the streets, doing the application game with no money coming in. But I bet he hadn’t thought of that.
“Do you need the money?” I asked. I waved around his office. “I mean, you seem like you’re doing okay.”
He’d offered my brother 3.5 million for his life-hacking app Organize You. Life-changing money dangled like a carrot, then yanked away.
“I am doing well,” he agreed. “But Grams has other ideas. The people it’d go to— Well, I can’t blame her.”
Reality finally sunk in. I wasn’t about to be a rook in the games rich people played and I had a feeling the Kings could play as dirty as they needed to. The patriarch hadn’t made billions off an oil empire by being nice, and the matriarch hadn’t raised four boys with an oil baron because she was a wallflower. And those were just his parents. What was Grams like?
They would destroy me to get their way. It was one thing to come here, looking to inflict my own little damage, but I hadn’t planned on taking on the whole family. Nope. Self-preservation won.
I rose out of the surprisingly comfortable chair. “Sorry, a four-month temp position isn’t my idea of a stellar job opportunity. Good luck though.” At least I’d leave knowing I’d tried, and also knowing that I was too small of a fish to mess with a frenzy of sharks.
“It could be four months and one year.”
My answer was still no, but curiosity stalled my exit.
“I’d compensate you for the ruse,” he continued. “And if you’re good at the job, it’d be a bonus and you could stay on as my assistant. After we divorce, of course.”
Dumbfounded, I couldn’t quit staring at him. He was speaking nonsense. “Divorce?”
“Be my fake fiancée for four months. If we get along, be my fake wife for another year. We split the money in the end. Whaddya say?”
Chapter 4
Beckett
I took a measured breath while I waited for the pixie’s answer. Her hair gleamed almost black where it was thickest, but the tips around her face and ears were brunette. How fitting that this woman I’d found on my doorstep had hair the hues of oil, the substance that had given my family its vast wealth.
Not many ranchers with operations our size ranched for fun. But my family did. It was in our blood and we took it seriously. Mama’s parents had been ranchers before they’d found oil, and Dad’s family had ranched for generations. But now I was more interested in software than cattle breeds. I enjoyed rounding up promising apps more than a good cattle drive. Marketing new programs until they earned out seven figures gave me more of a high than I’d ever gotten at the sales barn.
Almost every app I’d bought earned out. I didn’t need the money. But my trust was family money. I could do a lot of good with it. Old Man Cartwright would just drink half of it away and snatch up land that he’d let go into disrepair with the rest. The drive to save it from him had taken root.
I’d been prepared to lose the money, and swallow the sour pill of a hundred million going to our land-greedy neighbor, but now I could have the best of both worlds.
My suggestion was crazy. Absolutely ridiculous. But it made sense. Based on our short time together already, I liked her.
I’d get the best of both worlds. With Eva as a fiancée, Grams would leave me alone and we could make it look real enough that it wouldn’t upset Dad. If she went through with the marriage, the money would stay in the family, and at the end of the year, she’d get half. It looked like she could use it more than me. She was cute, but her clothes were well loved.
Lord knew they loved her right back. She seemed oblivious to the attention her tight little body attracted. Her ass in those jeans was the first thing my gaze had landed on when my driver had dropped me off. The butter-soft denim was snug against her lush curves, and my fingers twitched to caress it.
Veering back to the present before I embarrassed myself, I studied her. She continued to stare at me, her luminous amber eyes filled with disbelief. A good sign.
The other “applicants” Grams had sent had been fully aware of what they were getting into and had tried to play me from the first false smile. Time was running out. Grams had probably been interviewing another woman before I’d even read the latest resignation email.
It was insulting to me and to the women she viewed as nothing more than heifers she could breed me to. Not long ago, I would’ve expected that behavior from Dad, not Grams. After Mama had died and he’d broken the seal of sleeping with other women, he’d viewed them as nothing more than a pastime—until Kendall had come along. Kendall had only proved that he was a romantic who wouldn’t settle for less than love.
But that still left me and my impending twenty-ninth birthday.
When I’d arrived at work and seen Eva wandering around like she was lost, I’d thought Grams had changed tactics. But Eva’s attitude had been refreshing—and inspiring. She didn’t know me or the King family. The way she regarded me with caution and a healthy dose of suspicion was real.
The fact that she had to think about it only made me more confident that this might work.
She sat back down, hands on her knees, and looked me in the eye. “You want me to be your fake fiancée to get one over on your grandma because how could you be engaged to someone
like me? And then if we get along, we’d get married for real so you can collect your money?”
Part of what she said bothered me. “I didn’t ask you because you’re the opposite of who Grams thinks I’d like.” Grams’s choices had been very attractive, and intelligent, and under different circumstances, maybe there would’ve been a spark. Though none of them had intrigued me like this leery woman with expressive eyes.
She arched a brow. “Instead you opted for grabbing some random off the street and proposing? How is that a better idea?”
The frank way she spoke to me was refreshing. Other than my pain-in-the-ass brothers, nobody talked to me like “a random off the street.” People in my life wanted something from me, whether it was my money, or…my money.
I stuck with the honesty she seemed so fond of. “So far it’s going well. You’re actually thinking about it.”
“I am not.” A delicate blush brushed her cheeks. I liked it there. I wanted to be the one who always put it there, but I wanted the reason for it to be passion.
An orgasm would have the same effect on the dusting of sprinkles across her nose, creating a pink glow as she called out my name—
I adjusted myself discreetly below the desk. Good God, it was like I hadn’t been laid in… How long had it been? Since Grams had been interfering with my love life. I hadn’t trusted my dick around anyone for months.
“Okay, maybe a little,” she admitted. “But only because it’s a completely ridiculous proposal.”
“I can give you a fake proposal out of your wildest fantasies.” I hadn’t meant to infuse my words with so much suggestion. But she blushed again, so it was worth it.
“The whole situation is absurd.”
I shrugged. “Yep. Mama wanted to ensure her rowdy boys would settle down and she thought this would do it.”
There was more, but Mama was gone and her secrets with her. Dad was quiet on the subject. I was old enough to remember a few comments though, ones I hadn’t been meant to hear.
King's Ransom (Oil Kings Book 2) Page 2
