Fake It For Me - A Fake Wife Billionaire Romance

by Layla Valentine

  A few moments later, as Jada finished talking with the florist, Jackson came walking up.

  “Everything set?”

  “Yup. We’re good. She said they’ll be delivered the morning of the ceremony, if you can email the address to her.”

  “That’s fine. Thank you.”

  “Where is the ceremony, anyway?” Jada realized she had no clue.

  “Oh, just this small place I found.”

  That was evasive, but as Jackson turned toward the sidewalk, he gave the impression he didn’t want to talk about it. Jada was a bit annoyed, but she had other, more pressing matters to deal with.

  Jackson led the way, and the two of them strolled along San Francisco’s downtown streets with ease. As they settled into a calm pace, Jackson began asking question after question about Jada. It seemed like the emails he’d sent reflected his intent on getting to know her as a person after all.

  “So I know where your mother is from, but what about your father?”

  “Arizona. It’s where I grew up. He met my mom in college.”

  “Hmm. Why San Francisco, then?” Jackson was staring at his feet.

  “Well, there’s an amazing art program out here, and I wanted to take it. I agreed to go to college first, and then I had to start working right away because I needed the money. What about you?”

  Jackson seemed a little surprised by the return question, but he did answer. “I grew up here.”

  “So do your parents live here too?”

  “Umm…” There was a change in Jackson’s face that, however much he tried to bury it, let Jada know she had hit a nerve.

  “What is it? Did I offend you?”

  “No, no. Nothing like that.” Jackson attempted to shake the question off and move to a new subject. “So. Do you like the city?”

  “Not so easy, bud. What’s up?”

  Jackson huffed out a deep breath and shoved his hair out of his face. He looked up at the sky, which was purple and red in the late evening, and sighed. Jada didn’t push, but she let the silence draw out until Jackson had to say something.

  “I don’t know them.”

  “What?”

  “I never met my parents. I grew up in an orphanage and then foster care.”

  The admission seemed to actually pull a weight off his shoulders. Jada was taken aback. Here was the guy who had it all, and it turned out that was a rather recent development. He’d grown up alone. Jada couldn’t imagine not having her parents be a part of her life. The experience seemed so fundamental.

  “Wow. That sucks. I’m sorry.”

  Jackson let out a burst of air that was sort of an angry laugh and then shrugged. “It is what it is. I didn’t have much growing up, but when I was in school, my teachers saw I was on the smarter side, so I was able to get a scholarship for private school.”

  “Well that’s good.”

  “Yeah, mostly. I mean, I learned a lot and I was able to develop my skills, of course, but the children there weren’t overly friendly.”

  “What do you mean?” Jada knew kids could bully, but everybody went through a bit of that, didn’t they?

  “Most of the other students were rich, and I definitely wasn’t. They didn’t like to let me forget that.”

  Jada pictured rich, snotty kids picking on a boy without parents for not having enough, and it turned her stomach. She’d always assumed Jackson had been fed baby food with a gilded spoon, but he’d come from nothing.

  “So is that why being successful is so important to you? You want to show those kids that you could have it all too?”

  Jackson stopped in his tracks. He stared down at her with wide eyes and brows that reached his hairline. Yet again, Jada had let her big mouth run away with her. She looked down at the pavement, embarrassed, and heard Jackson blow out a long breath.

  “Honestly, I haven’t given much thought to my motives. I knew I wanted to be successful. I knew I didn’t want to live my life like I had in the children’s home. I would always tell myself, never again. I would never be poor again. Guess I succeeded there.”

  “I’d say,” Jada murmured.

  Across from them was a small park area, and a set of benches. Jackson nodded at them and asked her if she’d like to sit. They went over to take a seat on the nearest bench. The air was getting cooler, and Jada hugged her jacket closer to her.

  “We don’t have to sit here if you don’t want to.” Jackson looked genuinely concerned.

  “No. I’m fine. Just a bit nippy. I’m liking the fresh air too much to leave now.”

  Jackson said all right but then looked around the park area, searching for something.

  “What?” Jada asked.

  Apparently spotting what he was after, Jackson said, “Ah, perfect. Just wait here a moment.”

  He walked over to a small shop on a nearby corner and went inside. Jada sat on the bench, watching people walk by and enjoying the sunset for a few minutes before Jackson returned. He was carrying two cups.

  “Here.”

  He handed her a paper cup of hot cocoa, and Jada graciously accepted. It was the perfect solution to the slight chill in the air.

  “So this is a little off topic, but what does the P stand for?” Jada sipped at the steaming beverage.

  “The P?”

  “In JPH Tech. I assume it’s Jackson something Hays Tech.”

  Jackson shook his head, swallowing a hot mouthful of chocolatey goodness before answering. “It’s just an initial, just P. At the children’s home, the staff used the names given to us by our birth families if available. I always hated mine. So when I was older, I changed my name.”

  “You chose Jackson Hays?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “It sounds like something a dude would pick is all.” Jada laughed at him and smiled playfully.

  “Ha, ha. Very funny.”

  “Sorry, sorry.” Jada sipped again at the hot chocolate. “What was your name before?”

  “I really don’t want to say. It’s embarrassing.”

  “More embarrassing than Jackson?”

  “You just can’t help it, can you?” He shook his head at her.

  “I really can’t. It’s just so…I don’t know, but I feel like your last name should actually be Steel. Jackson Steel, billionaire CEO of Steel Industries.” Jada set off the name with elaborate hand gestures and almost spilled her drink. “It’d make a great Batman villain name.”

  “Ugh. You tease!” Jackson shoved lightly on her shoulder, making an amusing, half-angry face.

  Jada laughed loudly. They both sipped at their drinks till they were empty and Jackson took the cups to the trash at the corner. Jackson sat back down and leaned against the metal of the bench.

  “It’s Edmund.” His voice was low and quiet.

  “I’m sorry. What was that?”

  “Edmund, all right!”

  “That’s not bad at all! You big baby. I think I’ll call you that from now on.”

  He glared at her. “Don’t you dare!”

  “Fine, fine. Only when we’re alone.”

  “Ugh. I never should have told you.”

  “You really shouldn’t have.” Jada leaned back and crossed her arms. “Edmund.”

  He tried to look at her with disdain, but she was smiling so widely that he couldn’t maintain his composure. He simply shook his head, and they both laughed.

  During their conversation, night had crept up and the streetlights had lit up the park with an artificial glow.

  Jackson, or as Jada would think of him from now on, Edmund, looked over at her.

  “It only seems fair that you reveal something embarrassing as well. After all, fair is fair.”

  Jada chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Okay. Let me think.”

  “Edmund” waited patiently while she attempted to think of something embarrassing enough to count as an admission that was also safe enough to maintain her integrity.

  “I don’t know how to dance.”

&nb
sp; Her boss shot her a look. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Well, I am, Edmund.”

  “Would you stop that?”

  “Nope.”

  “You honestly don’t know how to dance?” He leaned in a bit closer.

  “You could say I’m rhythmically challenged.”

  Jada remembered her cousin’s recent wedding and the awkward maneuvers she’d had to pull to get out of the group dances and waltz requests.

  “I don’t know if this counts as embarrassing to the level of my story.”

  “What do you mean? I still have bruises from when I last hip-swirled my way into a buffet table.”

  He burst out laughing, and Jada joined right in. She was surprised by how comfortable she felt with him now. But knowing more about a person always helped in humanizing them, and Edmund definitely seemed more human, and approachable, than Jackson Hays.

  Finally, he caught his breath. “All right, that definitely counts. Right into a buffet?”

  “Oh yeah. It was bad. I bruise like a peach.”

  He laughed again, and as the energy of the evening settled down, they both realized they had better head back.

  “We should probably go.” Jada stood up off the bench.

  A little reluctantly, Edmund joined her. He was so tall, and Jada found herself appreciating his frame more than she’d have liked to admit.

  “Yes. That’s a good idea. Do you see a cab?”

  They looked around, and quickly spotted a yellow taxi pulling up outside a nearby restaurant. They ran over and hopped inside. Edmund directed the cab to the office, and the drive proceeded without a peep. Some of the magic that had been conjured on the bench remained, but now the quiet of the evening was closing around them, leaving them feeling a bit awkward.

  The car pulled up to the office garage, and Jada stepped out, holding the door open a moment.

  “Well, I’ll see you later.”

  “Yes. We don’t have anything arranged for the next few days. I’ll email you with the fitting details.”

  “The fitting?” Jada was gripping her purse high on her shoulder.

  “For your dress.”

  She’d completely forgot about that part.

  “Oh, okay. Yeah just let me know.” She put her hand on the car door to shut it, then something made her pause. “The lunch was really nice, by the way, but it’s too bad those cakes got wasted.”

  Jackson smiled widely. “They didn’t.”

  “What?”

  “I gave them to a shelter. They said they’d have enough dessert for the next three months.”

  Jada was speechless.

  Edmund nodded gently. “Yes, well…” He hesitated a moment. “Good night.”

  “Good night.”

  Chapter Nine

  The following morning, Jada had another important client meeting scheduled, and of course Matheson decided to sit in on it. He still didn’t trust her after the snafu the other day.

  To Jada’s enormous relief, the meeting went by without any trouble, and the client actually liked the projections her team had drawn up. They had worked so hard on them, and she’d hate it if they had done all that work for nothing.

  Back at her desk, Jada opened the customer file of a client who still had some time on their account. Things were going fine so far, and she didn’t have another meeting with them until well after her and Jackson’s “ceremony.” The comments inside left by the customer were the same old, same old. “This is very important to the company,” “we’re experts in the field,” and “no curse words.” She’d never been a huge fan of her job, and lately it seemed to be getting worse by the minute.

  With a bit of free time to kill, Jada took out a pad of sketch paper she kept hidden in her desk. Beneath it was her good pencil and eraser, and neither had seen any action in a while. She moved her keyboard out of the way and set the blank pad face up. The white stared back at her longingly. Fill me, it cried, desperate to have the lines and curves of some beautiful image breaking up the monotony of all that white.

  Jada sharpened the pencil and held it at the ready over the page. Inspiration was hard to come by lately. Well, more like since she’d graduated. A big fat nothing filled her mind, but then she saw them: deep, penetrating eyes that looked deep into your soul. She began to sketch them out, leaving the face that held them blank.

  Her pencil danced across the page, and Jada soon found herself enthralled by the power of her artwork. The eyes were a bit of a challenge, the image in her brain demanding to be absolutely perfect. Several times, she had to erase a section and try it again. Each swoop of her pencil scratched graphite onto the white paper, and the eyes slowly came into being.

  His eyes.

  As soon as Jada realized what she was drawing, she froze. There they were in front of her, those eyes that commanded and stood as hard as cold ice. That was what the sketch was missing. The blue of that icy glare couldn’t be replicated with only a pencil. Her hand back in the drawer again, Jada groped around for the small set of colored pencils she’d hidden.

  Retrieving them, she got to work, shading the eyes to their pristine blue. She needed each of the colors to truly recreated the oceanic stare. The deep cerulean for the edges and darker flecks surrounding the pupil; light sky blue for the flashes as light hit them. In those areas, white would help to create the reflection and shimmer.

  Jada’s hand worked away, and the eyes slowly took on the life and personality of their owner. She hadn’t been this excited to draw in, well, ever. Something about that stare, that face, filled her with an inspiration she didn’t want to examine too closely. His blues just filled her up. The sketch became more alive with the addition of a nose bridge and eyebrows, and soon she was fleshing out the structure of his face.

  The straight lines of his nose and jaw met with the curves of his cheeks and lips. The light stubble on his chin even made an appearance. She shaded as if a light were just to the right, the shadows gently falling on his left side and making her fingers dirty from blending.

  And then suddenly it was finished. His face stared back at her, and a small, barely noticeable smirk kissed his lips. Jada recreated a face she’d only seen a few times in exacting detail, and even in rough pencil his beauty showed through.

  The sound of her phone ringing brought her out of concentration.

  She reached for the handset, her eyes still fixed on his face. “Hello.”

  “Hey, chica. You’re supposed to brief us on next week, remember?”

  It was Chelsea, and she was right. The weekly briefing was scheduled for 3 p.m. Was it really time already? How long had she spent on the sketch? Jada had completely lost track of time, which was unlike her. If someone had come in and seen her so engrossed in not-work, she’d have been in trouble, again.

  “Sorry. Just running a bit behind. I’ll be right there.”

  Jada hung up and picked up the portrait. With lingering fingers, she slid the image into her hidden cache. She laid it as flat as she could and placed the supplies back on top of it. Even as she stood to leave, the thought of the picture in her desk made her heart pound.

  Chapter Ten

  They didn’t have anything scheduled, but Edmund shot over an email the following afternoon proposing a quiet dinner at some fancy restaurant. It was going to eat a day out of her weekend, which prompted Jada to suggest something else. Instead of playing the email game, Jada just called his office.

  Evelyn answered. “Mr. Hays’ office. How can I help you?”

  “Hello, Evelyn. It’s Jada. Would you inform Mr. Hays that I have a status report that will affect this weekend’s sorting plans? I can discuss it with him now.”

  The grumble from Edmund’s assistant was almost unheard, but Jada, who was sitting in a quiet office, was able to make it out. Someday, she thought, the two of us will have to have this out.

  “Just a second.”

  Evelyn put Jada on hold and then returned a few minutes later. “I’ll patch you over.�
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  More grumbles, and then Jada was connected to the CEO.

  “What’s this about a status report?” He sounded confused.

  “I was just making it sound official. About this weekend—I have a different plan in mind.”

  “Oh, and what’s that?”

  “Look, you’re costing me a day out of my weekend, and I refuse, refuse, to put on fancy clothes on a Saturday. We can meet up, but I say we go to the trolley stop near my house and ride it downtown. We can walk around and chat, and I won’t need to worry about meeting some restaurant’s dress code. Sound good?”

  “Sure. I’ll see you then.”

  They hung up, and Jada checked off another victory on her mental scoreboard.

  Saturday came and, as discussed, Jada met Edmund at the trolley stop. He was still wearing a button-down, but at least the guy had put on jeans. Jada, on the other hand, was wearing her favorite baseball tee. The thing was so old and worn that patches of it were see-through, but that was where sports bras came in handy. The black sleeves went three-quarters of the way down her arms, and the white center was far less pristine than it had been in its original state. She had paired the shirt with some torn-up jeans that had holes in the knees and a few other places, plus a missing pocket. Her sneakers were the only thing that looked clean-ish, and that was only because she’d taken care to wipe them off before she’d left.

  “Hey,” Jada said, walking up to Edmund. “You still look like you could go to a business meeting. Don’t do casual very much, do you?”

  Edmund examined himself. “I guess not. I don’t have the occasion most days.”

  “What do you mean? You don’t work on weekends, do you?”

  Edmund turned and faced the trolley stop with her as they waited for it to come their way.

  “Sometimes, though it’s not regular. I just don’t go out much. I’m usually at work or at home, thinking about work.”

  “The absolute horror. You should give yourself weekends, dude! Humans were not meant to work that much.” Jada’s hands gave emphasis to her disgust.