Fake It: A Fake Fiancée Romance

by Winter, Alexis

  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.

  I pull out my phone and call El.

  “Hey, how’d it go?”

  “I’m going to do it,” I blurt out.

  “Really?” She sounds genuinely surprised.

  “I can’t not do it, El. Fifty grand! FIFTY! GRAND! Do you know what I can do with fifty grand?”

  She laughs. “I have an idea.”

  I take a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I can’t believe I’m doing this, but I’m doing it. Also, you could have told me how hot the dude was in detail. I know you mentioned he was hot but he is HOT! I played it cool, but when he introduced himself to me, I’m pretty sure my nipples got hard.” El bursts into a fit of laughter as she relays what I just told her to Griffin in the background.

  “Good. It will give you the money you need, and Cam, yeah, he’s hot as hell but a bit of a dick sometimes, but I know he respects Griff and me too much to cross a line or be a complete asshole to you. We’ve gotten to know each other a little bit since I moved in with Griffin. And I’m telling you, he will take care of you. However, if he does do anything to screw this up, you’d better tell me because I will castrate him so fast!”

  I snort. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me,” I mumble, wondering if that’s the truth. I mean, I’ve been on my own for, what, three months? And already, I’m broke with no power and a nearly empty fridge.

  “I’m going to text him and tell him the news.”

  “Good luck,” she practically sings before hanging up.

  I quickly type out a text message: I’m in. Let’s do this.

  I drop the phone into my lap as I look around my dark apartment, wondering if I’m making a mistake, but also amped up—ready to end this stage of my life: the stage where I go broke and nearly homeless.

  My phone chimes from my lap and I quickly pick it up to read the text.

  Good. I’ll leave you to the last night of your ordinary life. I’ll send a moving truck in the morning.

  I stare at his message and a sense of fear settles over me. What am I doing? Something I don’t want to do, but something I need to do.

  I spend the rest of the evening packing up my things and making piles: stuff I’m taking with me, and stuff I’m leaving. I’m sure he doesn’t want to store my furniture, and since it was all picked up from flea markets or the side of the curb, I’m not out much money if it ends up getting thrown out in the move. When all this is said and done, I’ll have enough money to actually buy new, decent-looking furniture instead of having a pile of mismatched stuff.

  Instead of going to my bed to sleep, I curl up on the couch. I’m nearly asleep when Cocoa, my cat, jumps up and curls herself in a ball against my stomach. Her heat sinks into me and her soft, fluffy fur relaxes me into a deep sleep.

  I wake in the morning to someone banging on my door. I quickly jump up and race over to it, needing to stop the loud noise so early in the morning. I don’t even think to look myself over or attempt to make myself more presentable.

  In a hurry, I unlock the door and throw it open to find Cameron’s smiling face on the other side. His dark eyes look me up and down. “Nice,” he says, handing over a cup of coffee.

  “Thanks,” I mumble, taking the coffee and letting him in.

  He follows me back to the living room and I catch a glimpse of myself in a nearby mirror. My black mascara and eyeliner from last night are smudged around my eyes. I’m still in my black sequin dress, but last night I took off the heels and replaced them with my black mid-calf Ugg boots.

  “You always this beautiful when you wake?” he asks, sitting on the couch.

  I glare at him as I sit beside him. “You always keep your dick in your personality instead of your pants?” I can see my harsh comeback was completely unexpected, and it takes him off guard. “Sorry, that was out of line. I’m not a morning person—especially after I’ve put in so much overtime at work.”

  He ignores my comment and apology. “That reminds me,” he says, his tone full of determination and assertiveness. “I made a few calls last night. From now on, your work schedule will match mine. I need you available. You also have next week off for our trip.”

  “You called my boss?” I ask, a little dumbfounded and frankly pissed off.

  He nods. “I know you said you’d quit, but let’s face it, no one can live off fifty grand for the rest of their life. You’ll need that job when this money runs out.”

  I laugh half out of annoyance. “Thanks, I guess.” I feel my brows pull together. Now I’m wondering if I’ll still be seeing Dr. McSexy with my new schedule.

  “You’re welcome.” He smiles, not at all picking up on how weird and awkward this is for me.

  He stands and claps his hands. “We should probably get going. The moving truck will be here any minute.”

  “Oh, okay,” I say, standing as I set my coffee down on the table.

  “Is all this going or staying or…?” He motions around the room.

  “All the furniture is staying. I’m only bringing that stuff there.” I point at the wall lined with suitcases, boxes, and trash bags from when I ran out of boxes.

  I pick up the pet taxi crate and put Cocoa inside.

  “Whoa,” he says, wide-eyed as he backs away. “What’s that?”

  I laugh. “That’s my cat, Cocoa.”

  He shakes his head. “No, no animals.”

  I shrug. “I’ve had this cat since I was fifteen. If she doesn’t go, I don’t go.”

  “Fine. I’ll find someone else.” He turns to walk out of the room. “I’m sorry this won’t work out.”

  “You know, it’s already Saturday and you leave for your trip on Monday. That doesn’t leave a lot of time to find someone and get packed up. And no time for her to move in with you,” I say, causing him to stop. “But hey, good luck,” I say as I smack his arm.

  I see his shoulders fall from the deep breath leaving his lungs. He spins around, jaw tight and angular. “Fine, but it stays in your room only. I have very nice things and I refuse to have my house ruined by a cat that stains carpets, scratches, and sprays.”

  I snort. “First of all, she’s a ‘she,’ not an ‘it,’ and second, female cats usually don’t spray, especially when they’re spayed. Plus, Cocoa is litter trained and declawed.” I scrunch my nose. “My mean old parents ripped her claws out when I was too young to stop them.” I lift the cage to peek inside. “How can you be a cougar with no claws?” I ask Cocoa.

  He laughs. “A cougar?”

  I bring my attention back to him. “Yeah, you know, a sassy and fabulous older female who’s still sexy enough to bring in males half her age? Cocoa is a cougar. I’ve caught her getting it on with the neighborhood cats,” I joke.

  He scrunches up his face. “I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

  I smile. “And that’s why this will be fun.” I pick up my coffee and walk to the door with Cocoa.

  We load up in Cameron’s car and I hold Cocoa’s crate
on my lap. He slides behind the wheel and pulls out into traffic. He has no idea I’m watching him, and I’m thankful for that because his ego doesn’t need to get any bigger. But something about him is so attractive to me, and it’s not just his obvious good looks. I don’t know if it’s the giant EMOTIONALLY UNAVAILABLE stamp across his forehead or the fact that I know he could shatter any woman’s heart into a million pieces. Put all that together and he’s exactly the kind of emotionally damaged dude I’m usually attracted to, complete with fragile masculinity. However, I know if we were to meet on the street, I’d be turned off the moment he opened his mouth and started talking about his money, fancy car, or royalty status he likes to believe he has.

  That said, I’ve always been attracted to a man who works hard but cleans up nice, and it’s easy to see he’s that type of man. His black suit fits him to a T, and looks like it costs more than my life. It hugs his frame in all the right places, showing off his strong biceps, chest, and narrow waist. His skin is practically glowing. I mentally laugh at that. His skincare products probably cost more than my rent.

  “Can Chocolate stay in the car by herself for a little while?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts.

  “Her name is Cocoa. Why?” I ask, turning to look at him.

  “Well, no offense, but if you’re going to be my fiancée, you need to look the part.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask, feeling my face pinch.

  He lets out a deep breath, almost like he already knows he’s going to offend me. “I’m going to take you shopping.”

  “I don’t have money to shop!”

  He laughs. “It’s all on me. It won’t come out of your money.”

  I turn my head back to the windshield. “Whatever. Consider me your own personal Barbie.”

  I cannot express the craziness of his world. I’m dragged around from store to store. Clothes, shoes, coats, and accessories are basically thrown at me to try on. There are formal dresses that cost more than my first car, and name brands I never thought I’d be allowed to touch, let alone wear. And I’m bombarded with more luxury makeup and skincare products than I thought possible. Everything is picked out for me, paid for, and bagged. When I take my seat back in the car, I’m winded from the quickness of it all.

  Cam smiles. “So, what’d you think?”

  I look at him, speechless. “That’s insane.” I smile. “I am loving these sunglasses, though.” I lower them so I can look at him over the top, then push them back into place.

  “We have one more stop.”

  “God, do I have to go to the salon too?”

  He laughs. “I already have it booked for you tomorrow.”

  “I was joking,” I point out.

  “I wasn’t. Your day is filled with hair, makeup, nails, and a wax.”

  “A wax?” I yell.

  He fights to hold back his grin, but he can’t pull it together. “I promise, it’s not as bad as one would think.”

  “How do you know? You get waxed?”

  He nods once. “They give you wine to help you relax, and there’s numbing cream. I promise, it doesn’t hurt and you might end up liking the effects.”

  I snort. “I knew this experience was going to be painful, but not physically!”

  He lets out a chuckle under his breath before pulling over. I look out my window and find we’re at Tiffany & Co.

  “Jewelry?”

  “If we’re engaged, you’re going to need a ring,” he states as he’s climbing out.

  I quickly get out of the car and rush to his side. “You’re actually buying me an engagement ring?”

  He holds up his index finger. “Borrowing, to be precise. You WILL have to return it. I’m very close friends with the owner.” He opens the door and allows me to walk inside.

  I’m so poor, I’ve never even walked into this store. I’ve only ever seen it in movies. And film doesn’t do it justice. Everything is bright, shiny, and beautiful. I think my mouth is hanging open and I know my eyes have doubled in size as I gaze around me at all the sparkling diamonds.

  Cameron grabs my arm, hooking his hand around my elbow. “Focus. We’re on a mission,” he tells me, pulling me through the store. I stop when a gorgeous princess-cut champagne diamond ring catches my eye. It’s not over the top or the size of a boulder;t it’s understated, elegant, and unique.

  “Look at this one—it’s so gorgeous!” I lean over the counter, admiring the detail in the ring.

  He looks at it briefly before tugging me along. “I just said focus. We don’t have time for window shopping. Let the professionals pick out the right one.”

  The next thing I know, we’re in a private back office. He pulls out a chair for me and I take a seat. He sits down beside me and leans in. “This is our trial run, Samantha. These people see a lot of newly engaged couples. If anyone could sniff out the fact that this isn’t real, it’s them. So let’s see your acting skills, baby.” He grins and shoots me a wink.

  I want to scoff and roll my eyes, but the door opens and my expression, which was one of annoyance, turns to one of blinding happiness. My lips turn upward into a wide smile.

  “Good morning,” a man says, walking into the room. “Good to see you again, Cameron.”

  Cameron stands and shakes his hand. “How have you been, Terrence?”

  “Wonderful,” he replies, looking down at me. “Now, tell me about this beautiful woman.”

  I stand and laugh, suddenly happy that the girls in the other store fixed my face and removed the black streaks of eyeliner.

  “This is my fiancée, Samantha,” Cameron says, placing his hand on my lower back.

  I hold out my hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Aren’t you stunning,” he says, bending to press his lips to the top of my hand. He turns to face Cam. “I understand why you’ve kept this one a secret. She’s a doll.”

  I blush from the compliment.

  Cameron laughs. “She is, and she keeps me in line.” He motions for me to take my seat. “Now, Terrence, what do you have for us today?”

  His eyes grow wide as he places his elbows on the desk and leans forward. He studies me for a long moment. “Something about you calls to me, Samantha. You’re a timeless, classic beauty, but you also love over the top. Am I correct?”

  I laugh, glancing between Cameron and Terrence. “Well, I do love elegant and simple, but you know my Cammy here. He won’t let me settle for anything under four carats.” I beam proudly as I look over at him lovingly. I make sure to lay the sickly-sweet sarcasm on thick.

  His jaw flexes in annoyance, but he forces a smile. “That’s right. Nothing but the best for my bride-to-be.”

  Terrence smiles wide as he glances between the two of us. “I have the perfect ring. You, my dear, are going to love me,” he says to me as he spins around and picks up the phone. “Jeanie, honey, would you mind terribly if I asked you to fetch me the Novo? Mm-hmm, the one in the vault.”

  He hangs up the phone, and when he turns back to us, his face is glowing. “Now, Cameron, you know me…” He smiles.

  “I do,” Cameron agrees.

  “This ring is to die for! But it is pretty pricey. I completely understand wanting to try it out, but I would need a deposit.”

  “No problem,” Cam says, waving his hand through the air.

  The door opens and a woman walks in with her hand flat, holding the ring holder in her palm as if she were a hand model. She walks around us and the desk, and Terrence opens the box. The moment the light hits it, I’m blinded by its glow.

  He holds out his hand, showing me the ring between his fingers. “This was inspired by the famous Tiffany diamond. This yellow center diamond is set inside four tapered prongs with a micro-pavé-set diamond band.”

  The band itself is platinum with white diamonds along the top, andt the prongs holding in the yellow diamond are gold. It’s massive with its two-carat sizing.

  “How much does a ring like this cost?” I ask, taking the ri
ng and sliding it down my finger.

  “This particular ring is $1.2 million. The price can go up as we make adjustments.”

  “One million dollars?” I yell, my mouth dropping open. “For a ring?” My body wants to shoot up from my chair, but every muscle is frozen in place. Christ! I can’t even pay my damn power bill on time; how am I supposed to be responsible for something this expensive? I have to convince myself that it’s fine. I’ve never actually lost anything worth this kind of cash—I’ve got this! Then again, I’ve never touched something this expensive.

  He nods. “That will be a fifty-thousand-dollar deposit, Cam,” Terrence tells him before looking at me. “Is that the one?” he asks.

  I turn and look at Cam, holding the ring up to my face. “What do you think, honey? Is this the one?” I ask, eyes widening as a smile tugs at my lips.

  I can see how hard he’s working to remain calm, but he smiles. “The question is, do you think it’s the one?” he says through gritted teeth.

  I look from him, to the ring, to Terrence, and back. Nodding, I reply, “It is!” I leap into his arms and press my lips against his. He’s surprised, but he kisses me back after a moment of being frozen. His hand lands on my hip, pulling me closer, and I swear I feel him harden beneath me before he breaks the kiss and gently pushes me away.

  His face flushes as he laughs. “Looks like you did it again, Terrence.”

  Terrence laughs and claps his hands. “Of course I did!” he laughs out. “Now, will that be cash or ?”

  Chapter Six

  Cameron

  “I swear to God, if you lose that ring…” I grumble as I escort her out of the building and into the car.

  She giggles. “Oh, chill out, Daddy Warbucks. I’ve never lost anything expensive in my life,” she says, brushing off my anger as her gaze remains fixed on the ring.

  “To be fair, I think we have very different definitions of the word expensive.” I close her door and climb behind the wheel.