Bought And Paid For: The Billionaire's Girlfriend

by Lara Hunter

  “Friday night,” he said. “The event will be formal. Susan sent your clothes over?”

  “Yes, a couple of days ago,” I said.

  He stood.

  “Let me see,” he said.

  Confused, I led him into the bedroom, and opened the door to the large walk-in closet. He walked in and flipped on the light. He found where I’d hung the formal gowns, and started flipping through them. He paused on a slinky champagne-colored one.

  “I think that one is my favorite,” I said.

  “It’s alright,” he said. “But we’ll go with something a little less showy this first time out. You’ll have enough eyes on you as it is.”

  He flipped past a few more gowns before pulling one out. It was a simple, black, strapless dress, with a full skirt that swept the floor.

  “This one,” he said. His tone invited no discussion or disagreement.

  “Do you want to choose my shoes as well?” I asked dryly.

  He gave me an annoyed look.

  “I think you can manage that,” he said. “Just remember that you’re a CEO’s girlfriend. This isn’t junior prom.”

  “I know that,” I said irritably.

  “I can’t take any chances,” he said. “This night is going to be important.”

  He left the closet. I followed him back to the living room.

  “Susan will be in touch with appointments for your hair and makeup.”

  “That’s not necessary,” I said. “I can do my own hair and makeup.”

  “Not for this,” he said. “The women attending this event will all have been styled professionally. If you want to blend in, you need to do the same.”

  “Alright, then,” I said.

  “As far as your behavior,” he said. “Less is more. The less you say, the less chance you’re going to get tripped up and raise suspicion. Think coy, shy, graceful but quiet. Let me answer most questions for both of us. Stay near me, and follow my lead.”

  “Is that the kind of girlfriend you really want?” I asked before I could stop myself.

  Anger flashed in his eyes.

  “I don’t want a girlfriend at all,” he said. “But if the ridiculous sensibilities of other people require me to have one, then yes, I would prefer she not be tacky and loud and embarrass me in front of my colleagues. Is it such a large thing to ask, for you to stay quiet for one evening?”

  “No, of course not, Mister Pace,” I replied, my tone icy.

  “Very well,” he said, walking to the apartment door and opening it. “I’ll be here with my car at seven on Friday. I expect you will be ready when I arrive.”

  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak again.

  He left the apartment and shut the door hard behind him.

  My hands curled into fists at my sides. In that moment, I had no trouble remembering who he was, or why he deserved to be humbled. I felt no ambivalence, only calm certainty that, at the end of all of this, Harvey would pay for who he was and what he’d done.

  Rose would have been proud of me.

  CHAPTER SIX

  I stood in the middle of my living room, watching the clock tick toward seven. I wanted to sit, but I was worried I would wrinkle my dress if I tried. The stiff, heavy layers of silk and chiffon rustled around me as I paced carefully in my high-heeled strappy sandals. Susan had helped me select them. She’d also ridden along with me to see Astra, giving the stylist constant, meticulous directions as Astra ironed and curled and pinned my hair into an elaborate style that, when finished, looked deceptively simple and elegant. My makeup was more dramatic than the everyday look they’d taught me previously. My eyes were highlighted in smoky shades of black and grey, striking but not excessive. My lips had been painted deep red. The lipstick tube was tucked into my evening bag, a simple black pouch that closed with a silver clasp and probably cost more than what I paid each month in rent on my real apartment.

  “Just smile when they smile, laugh when they laugh, and you’ll be fine,” Susan had said, dabbing an unfamiliar perfume behind my ears. “Sip some champagne, but stop before you get tipsy. If you get in trouble, just let Harvey know. He’s quite agile, socially speaking.”

  “Good to know,” I said. “Will you be there?”

  “No, of course not,” she said. “The only thing I do for Jenson Pace is cash the checks. Well, and dress you, my dear.” She laughed. I tried to laugh as well, but the sound came out more like a strangled cough.

  “Don’t be nervous,” she said, patting my bare arm. “Or if you are, just pretend it’s shyness. Harvey’s blushing English rose – they’ll love you.”

  She was trying to make me feel better, but her suggestion just reminded me of Harvey’s instructions, and how his perfect woman was better seen than heard. I couldn’t quite hold back the seething anger that hadn’t let go of me since Harvey’s visit earlier in the week. Fortunately, Susan mistook my demeanor for nerves.

  “Goodness,” she said. “I’d give you a Xanax, but you’re such a little thing, with my luck, it would put you to sleep right in the middle of the soup course.”

  “No, I’m fine,” I said, forcing a smile. “It’s going to be one of the easiest performances I’ve ever given. The fewer lines the better, right?”

  “That’s the spirit,” she said, just as Harvey knocked on the door. Susan went and opened it for him.

  I’d known that the event was black tie, but I still wasn’t prepared for the sight of Harvey in a tuxedo. The cool greeting I had prepared died on my lips, and for a long moment, I just stared at him. I suppose all men look good in a tux, but Harvey was so gorgeous he almost didn’t seem real.

  Harvey was staring, too. I felt a blush rise up my chest and to my face as his eyes traveled over me.

  “Well, at least you won’t have to pretend all of it,” Susan said, clearly amused. “You two are blushing like kids going to prom.”

  Her comments seemed to shake Harvey from his reverie.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Susan,” he said, clearing his throat. He turned back to me. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes, just a moment,” I said, slipping my wrap around my shoulders and grabbing my purse.

  “Have fun, kids,” Susan said. Harvey gave her a murderous glance as he held the door open for me.

  There was a limousine waiting at the curb. I tried to hide my surprise, but Harvey noticed.

  “A bit much, I know,” he said, helping me into the car as Ted held the door open. “But it’s expected for an event like this. There will be press there.”

  “Oh, okay,” I said, trying not to look phased by this.

  Harvey slid into the seat beside me, and Ted closed the door.

  “Would you like some champagne?” Harvey asked, pointing to the bottle that sat waiting on ice. “It might help you relax a bit.”

  “Yes, please,” I said. The vehicle pulled away from the curb, merging into the nighttime city traffic.

  He poured a glass and handed it to me. As I sipped it, I couldn’t help but make a little sound of pleasure.

  “This is wonderful,” I said.

  “I’m glad you like it,” he said, sipping a glass of his own. As I watched his face, I realized that he was as nervous as I was.

  “This is a big night,” I said, “for your company.”

  “Yes,” he said. “It represents a huge investment of time and money. We have every reason to believe that this product release is going to be successful, but one can never be sure.” He smiled at me, a bit tightly. “You shouldn’t worry about that, though. If there are problems with the release, we aren’t likely to know about it tonight. Everyone will be too busy eating hors d'oeuvres and patting each other on the back. So, try to enjoy yourself if you can.”

  He was quiet for a moment.

  “Oh, I suppose I should ask this now – do you dance, Alice?”

  “Um, yes,” I said, surprised. “I do.”

  “I don’t mean the kind of dancing you’d do in a nightclub,” he said
. “Can you waltz? Foxtrot?”

  “And cha-cha, and east coast swing, and tango, and polka,” I said, irritated. “I know what you mean. I’ve been ballroom dancing since I was ten.”

  “Huh,” he said. “That’s… rather unusual, isn’t it?”

  “You mean, for someone like me?” I said.

  He didn’t answer.

  “My parents taught me,” I said. “They loved to dance with each other. They were amazing. I would watch them, at family weddings, or just in our kitchen, and I wanted to be able to do that. So they taught me. I don’t get the opportunity to practice as much as I’d like, though.”

  “Well, you may have the chance tonight,” he said. He looked at me, as though he were reevaluating his impression of who I was. “Your parents are still living?” he said. Of course, he already knew the answer because he’d investigated me before Mick had approached me.

  “Yes,” I said. “They live upstate. I came down to the city after high school.”

  “Do you see them very much?”

  “When I can,” I said. “I miss more holidays than I’d like. There tends to be more acting work available around the holidays. I can’t afford to pass up jobs.”

  “Understandable,” he said. “You have a sister, too, right?”

  “I do,” I said. “An older sister.”

  “And is she in the arts as well?”

  “Definitely not,” I said, laughing a little. “She works in a legal office, and that suits her. She’s practical, like my father. I’m more like my mother. She was a dancer before she married my dad.”

  I didn’t know why I was telling him so much, but I didn’t see how it could hurt. He already knew who my family was. And he seemed genuinely interested. Maybe I was just distracting him from his anxiety about the evening ahead of us.

  “What about you?” I asked. “What were your parents like?”

  “I didn’t know them very well,” he said. “My mother passed away when I was eight, a brain tumor. My father tried to be there for Susan and me, but he was very busy with the business. And then, of course, he passed as well.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Twenty-five,” he said. “I’d graduated from business school, and was in an MBA program at Brown. I left school immediately and took over the company then. It’s what my father would have wanted, I know.”

  “Is it what you wanted?” I asked.

  He seemed surprised by the question.

  “The business was more important than what I wanted,” he said. “My father built it from nothing. He’d always planned, once it was large enough, established enough, to step back and let managers handle it so he could spend time with my mother, and with his children. He never had that chance. And when he died, the business was at a crucial point. It needed aggressive, active management, or it might have failed. If I’d let that happen, it would have dishonored everything he’d sacrificed for us.”

  “And what about you? What have you sacrificed for it?” I asked.

  He opened his mouth as though he would answer, and then stopped himself.

  “Here we are,” he said, as the car pulled up to the curb.

  ~ ~ ~

  The event was being held in a huge, historic hotel downtown. There was an actual red carpet laid down, marking a path from the doors of the limousine to the entrance of the hotel. The carpet was roped off on each side, and there were, in fact, multiple reporters waiting with large cameras and microphones. My heart flip-flopped in my chest.

  “Don’t worry,” Harvey said. “Just stay with me.” His green eyes fixed on mine. I nodded.

  “I’m with you,” I said.

  Ted opened the door for us, and Harvey stepped out. Cameras flashed, and he gave them a good-natured smile. He turned then and extended a hand to me. I took his hand and stepped from the car.

  More flashbulbs, and eager voices now, calling out to us –

  “Mister Pace! Who’s your friend?”

  “Miss! Miss! What’s your name, Miss?”

  “Who’s your date tonight, Harvey?”

  Harvey just smiled and led me toward the doors, not answering the reporters. I smiled as well, even though, inside, I was terrified.

  When we got inside, a woman took Harvey’s coat and my wrap. I kept my hand in Harvey’s arm as he led me to the ballroom where the event was being held.

  Inside, there was a sea of strange faces, well-groomed men in perfectly-tailored tuxedos, women in ball gowns, waiters circulating with trays of hors d'oeuvres and glasses of champagne. There was a large stage set up at the far end of the room. Off to one side of the stage, an orchestra was set up and playing. The floor in front of them was cleared for dancing, but it was too early yet for that. The side of the room where Harvey and I now stood was full of tables, elegantly set with fine China, shining silver, and twinkling crystal. There were elaborate floral centerpieces set on each table, and large floral arrangements placed artfully on pillars around the perimeter of the room.

  I ordered myself not to look awestruck; that simply wouldn’t do for this character. Instead, I put on an entirely unsurprised expression, a look of nothing more than casual enjoyment. I held Harvey’s arm with both hands, a small, but unmistakable signal of possession. Harvey smiled down at me warmly, covering my hand with his own.

  At once, I saw faces in the room notice us. What I could read in their reactions ranged from curiosity to amusement to barely-concealed hostility. I ignored them and let Harvey lead me to a group of men and women a few tables over.

  “Harvey!” A heavyset man with graying hair jumped up and shook Harvey’s hand. “Good to see you! Gonna be a great night!”

  “Damn right, Phil!” Harvey agreed, clapping the man on the shoulder. Harvey turned to me. “Alice, I’d like you to meet my associates. This is Phillip Mercer, Alan Kent, and David Emanuel, and their wives Janice, Louise, and Barbara. Everyone, this is Alice Clarke, my date this evening.”

  They all stood and shook hands with me.

  “Lovely to meet you,” one of the women, Louise, said. “Have you known Harvey long?”

  “A few months,” I said, glancing back at Harvey with a shy smile.

  “Oh my, your accent,” she said. “Where are you from?”

  “The UK,” I said. “Kent.”

  Harvey pulled a chair out for me, and I sat down. He took the seat beside me.

  “What brings you across the pond?” David, a tall, thin man with almost no hair asked, laughing at what I’m sure he thought was a terribly clever phrase.

  “Business,” I said, with an obliging laugh.

  “Oh? I’d love to hear more about it,” Phil said, leaning in toward me.

  “Now, now, gentlemen,” Harvey said. “Let’s not overwhelm Miss Clarke with questions so soon.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind,” I said, smiling innocently at Harvey. “It’s wonderful to finally meet some of your friends, Harvey.” I touched his arm playfully and ignored the warning I saw in his eyes. I turned back to Phil.

  “Mister Mercer,” I began, but Phil broke in.

  “Please, call me Phil.”

  “Only if you call me Alice,” I said.

  “Of course,” he agreed.

  “Well, Phil, I’ve been learning my family’s business for the past few years, and my father felt that I was ready to come over to America for some market research. You know, see what opportunities there might be for us, should we decide to branch out internationally.”

  “Ah, I see,” Phil said.

  “And what kind of business is your family in?” Phil’s wife, Janice, asked.

  “A little bit of everything,” I said, waving my hand as though the answer didn’t really matter. “I suppose you’d call us an investment firm.”

  “I see,” Janice said, studying me.

  Harvey’s hand squeezed mine under the table. I understood his message perfectly: he was telling me that enough was enough, time for this violet to shrink a bit more.

&nb
sp; To hell with that, I thought.

  “Are you enjoying the U.S., Alice?” David’s wife, Barbara, asked me. She was an older woman with steel gray hair and shrewd, bright blue eyes.

  “Very much,” I said. “I’ve been here once before, but I was only a little girl then. It’s been just lovely.” My eyes darted to Harvey and back, and I smiled. He smiled, too.

  “Hmm,” Barbara said, looking from Harvey to me, and back. “And how did you say you and Harvey met?”

  “A dinner party,” Harvey said, before I could answer. “At the home of a mutual acquaintance.”

  “Harvey was so kind,” I said, jumping in and picking up the story. “I’d only just gotten in a few days ago, and he offered to show me around the city. We went to the museums, and he showed me some lovely shops, and we took a carriage ride through the park.”