by Haley Travis
Accidental Fake Billionaire
Older Man, Younger Woman Instalove Romance
By Haley Travis
Copyright 2021 Haley Travis. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted or duplicated in any form whatsoever without express written permission of the author. This book is intended for sale to adults only. All main characters are over 18. This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to actual people or specific locations or details is completely coincidental, or intended fictitiously.
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CONTENTS
Chapter One ~ Tara
Chapter Two ~ Jared
Chapter Three ~ Tara
Chapter Four ~ Jared
Chapter Five ~ Tara
Chapter Six ~ Jared
Chapter Seven ~ Tara
Chapter Eight ~ Jared
Chapter Nine ~ Tara
Chapter Ten ~ Jared
Chapter Eleven ~ Tara
Chapter Twelve ~ Jared
Chapter Thirteen ~ Tara
Chapter Fourteen ~ Jared
Chapter Fifteen ~ Tara
Chapter Sixteen ~ Jared
Chapter Seventeen ~ Tara
Chapter Eighteen ~ Jared
Epilogue ~ Tara
Other Stories and About the Author
1
_____
Tara
I was seventy percent certain that I would throw up all over the exquisite wedding dress before I even made it down the aisle. Er, runway.
How the heck did I ever get talked into modeling?
Even from the staging area, the music and cheers were distractingly loud as they echoed around the enormous warehouse. I didn’t understand why people were losing their minds for all this strange clothing, but I guess I didn’t understand fashion.
“You look incredible,” Laura said, rushing by me with her ever-present clipboard and headset.
My best friend had ended up planning the end of year fashion show for her design class, and I had stupidly offered to give her a hand if she needed anything. Fetching coffee, helping proofread the program, or arranging chairs were all things I would have excelled at.
Then Jessie, one of the graduating designers, got a call that her star model, the one playing her bride, had twisted her ankle. She and Laura searched everywhere for a woman who was not only a very average size and height, but a blue-eyed blonde. Apparently her “vision” of the bride character could only be brought to life properly if her final project was worn by someone exactly like me.
I’m not sure why this particular designer was such a big deal, but she was the only one who had the money for wedding dress fabric. Since she was selected to be the finale, I had to assume that she, or her family, were important somehow.
While in the makeup chair earlier, I’d overheard Jessie and Laura talking about having real people play each role in her collection for authenticity. A socialite, a rock star, an artist, and some wealthy businessman were her muses. I was apparently the only fake.
Considering I’d only had one boyfriend in my life, and it lasted less than two months, I was about as far from being a bride as you could get.
A nagging feeling lurked around the back of my mind. My older sister Angela would have been perfect for this role. She shone like a diamond in every single situation, and, unlike me, she loved the attention.
When I found out this morning that I’d been recruited, that is, talked into it by Laura, I’d immediately done some online research. I’d only had half an hour to watch a few videos on how to model, and how to deal with fear. I still felt tragically unprepared, but I couldn’t let my friend down.
“Don’t touch your face,” one of the black clad makeup artists reminded me as he dashed by.
Somehow, now that two-thirds of the show was over, I started to see an order to the swirling chaos in this cavernous staging area.
Each designer had three to five models wearing their outfits, and hovered around them protectively. They would be announced, then those models would walk, one after the other.
I was the final one to walk in the final group, which meant the longest possible amount of time to fidget and freak out. There was no way to sit without wrinkling the dress. I couldn’t take a sip of water without ruining the lip gloss. So I stood in the corner, trying to breathe.
I watched as the second last group, three men and a woman, took their turns walking out to the stage. Oh god, my group was next.
“Tara, time for your shoes!”
Jessie waved me toward the area that might as well have been a portal to Hell. The shoes that went with this dress were too small, but we hadn’t had time to find anything that fit better and I’d have to make them work. With the tight waistline of this dress, I couldn’t even bend over to help.
“Lift your skirt, I’ve got it,” she said, pulling off my slippers, as I daintily held the layers of silk above her head.
Jessie really had to jam the heels onto my feet. Biting back a whimper, I wobbled, and a hand caught my elbow. Looking up into blue-black eyes, I nearly whimpered again.
“I’ve got you,” he said, smiling warmly.
My nervous trembling was just as bad, but suddenly it had a different focus. He was at least six foot four, perhaps in his mid to late thirties, and built like a linebacker. His perfectly cut short black hair, unusually even tan, and flawless teeth told me precisely which character he must be from Jessie’s lineup of living dolls.
“You must be the billionaire,” I stuttered, noticing his thick, diamond-encrusted watch.
“You’re an incredible bride,” he said gently. “Is the lucky man here in the audience tonight?”
It wasn’t natural for me to speak to a man who was that good-looking. He looked like an action star or something. His eyes were dazzling as he leaned closer.
“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head and then thinking better of it, as I didn’t want to dislodge the fancy clips holding up my hair. “I’m a last minute replacement.”
He winked, the slight lines around his eyes crinkling adorably. “I’ll never tell.”
“All set,” Jessie said, straightening up.
I tested the shoes, which were painful, but it was only for a few minutes.
“You’re going on right after Jared,” Jessie said, nodding toward the man as he released my arm.
I got into line, following the rest up the three precarious steps to the curtained area just offstage.
Jessie turned into a drill sergeant, hissing at the remaining models. “Socialite, look cold. They’re beneath you. Rock star, laugh and wave. Make them love you. Artist, channel the hippie vibe and walk a bit slower.”
She turned to Jared. “I assume you know how to look like a rich douchebag?”
My mouth fell open, but he just laughed. “Got it.”
“Tara,” she said more gently, as the music changed and the socialite began strutting out into the lights, “Just breathe. You’re incredible for doing this for me. You’re the shy blushing bride, so if you look a little bit nervous it will be adorable. Okay?”
I nodded, my breath stuttering through my throat. Looking up, Jared looked worried. He bent down to whisper in my ear, “Tara, you look ravishing. Take your time, and let everyone admire you.”
It was touching that a total stranger seemed to
care. His warmth made something flutter deep in my stomach. Before I could think of something to say, he’d turned away, walking into the bright lights.
Wow, he was breathtaking. Everything about him was impeccably styled, and he looked so comfortable with it all.
His shoes looked like they cost more than my rent. His watch gleamed in the light as he walked casually down the catwalk as if he owned the building. Heck, the city.
I reached up to adjust my cheap crystal earrings, which I’d bought at a dollar store on the way to the show, since jewelry wasn’t supplied. Clearly, the obscenely wealthy man posing at the taped X on the floor at the far end of the runway didn’t have to worry about little things like that.
Watching the confident, powerful way he walked, I wondered what that would feel like. To be so secure. To be so in control. I couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to be with such an incredible man.
Then I remembered I was up next, as a bouquet was pressed into my hand, and my knees began to quake.
2
_____
Jared
My back teeth ground together as I forced myself to remain still, feeling like a complete idiot. Standing under the spotlights so that hundreds of strangers could ogle my suit, I still couldn’t believe I’d been talked into this.
I’d always thought it was cute that my little sister Jessie threw herself into fashion design school with such complete enthusiasm.
It took me a bit longer than some to settle down and find a decent job. Running deliveries for a sketchy family because I’m so huge that people don’t ask any questions wasn’t enough to live on for long, and I didn’t exactly see much of a future in it. So I trained to be a crane operator, and my days were now spent constructing huge office towers from the ultimate seat in the sky.
My only pickups and deliveries now involved helping drive Jessie all over the city to strange warehouses for fabric, or to drop off her industrial sewing machines at the repair shop. But when she started designing a custom suit to fit my sturdy physique, with the unspoken understanding that I would model it for her at the end-of-year show, I should have stopped her.
I didn’t have many weaknesses. And I hated ever feeling out of control. But my sister’s puppy dog look was a soft spot.
Jessie had said something about wanting to create the perfect suit for a real billionaire, not some slim, high cheek-boned Scandinavian-looking model. She’d gone all out, renting me the shoes and watch, and sending me to her friend for a fancy shave and haircut.
Forcing myself to stroll confidently down the narrow walkway as if I owned the place, I had to admit, I did feel like a million bucks, if not quite a billion.
I certainly felt fired up after being so close to the breathtaking girl Jessie had found to model her bridal gown. I’d never been so close to such a gorgeous woman.
The faint trembling of her elbow in my hand, the scent of her apple shampoo, and the way she nervously licked those luscious lips all drove me insane. I wished I was the sort of man who ended up with a woman like that.
After pausing at the end of the stage to dramatically check my ridiculously over-the-top watch while the cameras flashed wildly, I turned to saunter back, relieved that this was almost over.
I could just see the edge of Tara’s dress peeking out from the side of the curtain. The poor little thing looked scared to pieces, and I wished that there was something I could do to help. The strong urge to protect her surprised me. It had come out of nowhere.
As I approached the nook where she stood cowering, I flashed her a huge grin. “Totally painless,” I said. “Your turn.”
She nodded, but her lips were fluttering as if she wasn’t breathing quite right.
“Go,” Jessie whispered. “Walk slowly to the music. You can do this.”
As I stepped out of the lights, I could see the frantic look in Tara’s big blue eyes.
“Please,“ Jessie begged. “I just heard that Slice Light Magazine is here. If you do something dramatic at the end of the runway, we might get the cover shot.”
Tara managed to take five steps forward, to the bright pink X taped on the floor where we were supposed to stand and pose for the first round of photos.
“Lift your chin,” I murmured. “Look straight ahead.”
My deep voice must have carried through the rest of the noise, as Tara lifted her pretty face, looking around at the hundreds of people staring at her. Her knuckles were white, clutching the bouquet in one hand, and the side of her dress in the other.
Oh God, she was frozen.
“What do I do?” Jessie yelped, looking over to me in horror. “I have to have the dramatic finale, or they can’t get that shot.”
As embarrassing as it was walking down the runway once, I would have walked through fire to stop Tara from fluttering like a leaf.
Stepping back into the lights, I took her hand, leaning down to kiss it gently. She looked at me in surprise, but then took my arm as I offered it. “You look absolutely ravishing, my darling,” I said smoothly. “Shall we go for a walk?”
“Thank you,” she whispered, following my lead as we sauntered slowly down the runway.
A flicker ran through me as I thought what a joy it would be to walk this beauty down the aisle for real some day, to make her mine forever.
Once we were at the end, I whispered, “I’m just going to step back so they can take some photos of you alone. Breathe and smile.”
Releasing Tara, I stepped a few feet out of the way, so the photographers could circle her dress completely. Then I saw her right hand reaching back blindly toward me. Darting forward, I took it, turning her to face me.
“I’m sorry – I can’t be alone up here,” she gasped.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you. If I hold you close, will you dance with me for a photo? They’ll go crazy for it.”
She nodded, and the light in her eyes switched from terror to nervous delight, as I wrapped my arm around her waist. We began to slowly waltz around the end of the narrow platform, to the sound of cameras and cheers all around us.
A few of the photographers seemed to be backing away, as if this wasn’t worth their time. My mind raced as I tried to think of something theatrical that would draw their attention.
Something popped into my head, but Tara would have to be very open-minded. Looking down at the way she was gazing into my eyes, I selfishly realized it wasn’t just for the shot.
I leaned in to murmur close to her ear, “If we do a dramatic finish, Jessie will be thrilled. If I dip you back in a giant movie star kiss, you could throw the bouquet over your shoulder into the crowd.”
Tara nodded eagerly, relaxing in my arms as she twirled slowly. Her delicate lips pressed together nervously, then parted invitingly. A shudder ran through me as I hoped she had heard me clearly.
“Ready?” I smiled, spinning her to face the bank of photographers.
“Yes.”
Maybe it was the deafening music, or the visual assault of flashes, but it suddenly felt like everything was in slow motion. Gripping Tara’s waist snugly, I arched her back over my arm. She giggled, staring up into my eyes.
I could hear everyone going crazy just four feet away, but they might as well have been in another dimension.
Tara’s hand flew up gracefully, tossing the bouquet straight over her head and into the crowd, then brought her fingers to the side of my face as I held her close. Those huge blue eyes blinked slowly, then she nodded.
The second my mouth met Tara’s silky lips I felt the world tilt. She was what I’d been searching for. So soft and seductive. Sweet and girlish. Pure.
This was the girl who made me want to be a better man, once and for all.
For her.
3
_____
Tara
Hundreds of people were staring at me, but for once I didn’t even care. The handsome, striking, powerful man kissed me with a heat that made my heart jerk awkwardly in my chest.
It didn�
��t feel like it was just for the cameras.
My thighs quivered, but he held me tightly and securely in those thick arms. His massive body holding mine so gently made every part of me melt into his embrace.
When Jared finally stood me back on my feet, the screams around us made my ears ring. As I stared up into his eyes, his cocky grin made me giggle. “Now that was a bouquet toss,” he chuckled.
He took my arm again, escorting me up to the top of the runway. Then he turned me back to the cameras for one more pose, with his arm possessively around my waist.
I realized with a start that we probably made a good-looking bride and groom. His dark suit was perfectly formal for a wedding day, and I was certainly a blushing bride.
