Executive Engagement: A Boardroom to Bedroom Fake Fiancee Romance

by Alexis Angel

  I don’t want to know. I want some questions unanswered. For once I don’t even want to get used to this, or anything.

  Fuck falling into ruts, routines, and the same crap over and over. That’s not life. That’s just days going by. Life is what Darcy gives me.

  I couldn’t ask for anything more than that.

  I’m practically shaking with anticipation as I push open Darcy’s office door.

  Darcy’s sitting at his desk with perfect professional posture. The desk’s glass surface is completely tidy. There are no errant papers or chaotic piles of stuff, really nothing but an open laptop that Darcy’s clicking away on.

  Darcy stands up and starts walking in my direction. He’s making unbroken eye contact, he must be on his way to give me a big, romantic kiss like in the movies before sweeping me off my feet for our next adventure, whatever that may be…but now he’s stopping. What the shit is this?

  He pulls out one of the chairs facing his desk and gestures towards it.

  “Please, take a seat.”

  Darcy is keeping me guessing, I’ll say that much. This is leading somewhere good, I’m sure. It better be.

  I walk over and sit down like I’m at a job interview. Okay, this is kind of fun. I suppose.

  Darcy retakes his spot behind the laptop. If this is the game we’re playing, I can go along.

  “Would you mind telling me what this meeting is about, sir?” I start in mockingly, “I know your time is valuable, I don’t want to waste it.”

  Darcy laughs, honest but mild. I almost jump when I hear the door open behind me. I turn my head around. Darcy’s receptionist—I feel awful not knowing her name—is carrying in an actual silver platter laid out with bagels, chocolate croissants, and scones. The platter is also holding a few small, gold serving dishes holding whipped butter, strawberry cream cheese and what looks like orange marmalade.

  “You can just put that right on my desk.”

  Darcy’s receptionist looks relieved to do just that, making a loud clanking noise on the glass surface. “The bagels came out of the oven at ten.”

  With that announcement, the receptionist half-jogs out of the office. It doesn’t seem like she’s scared—I think that’s just what she does every time.

  Darcy checks his watch. “The bagels should still be pretty fresh.”

  It’s not even eleven thirty.

  “It this a business meeting?” I’m trying to be amused, but this is getting strange.

  “This is an announcement, really.” Darcy is barely holding back a grin. Damn, he’s genuinely excited. I almost start laughing myself.

  “Just spit it out!”

  He laughs. And then he relents. “You’re looking at the new owner of Bennet Babes.”

  In an instant, my whole body goes ice-cold, and I feel like throwing up all over that stupid platter. Did I really hear that? I’m hoping this is a joke or maybe just a nightmare as Darcy prattles on like nothing’s wrong.

  “Wait, did you want coffee? Espresso? Sparkling water? I think she was supposed to bring in some pear Lambic, I think it’s actually good in the morning…”

  “Coffee? What the fuck! Please tell me this is some kind of a...are you serious with this?” Now I’m actually shaking, but with anger and confusion. “Is this your way of breaking up with me?”

  Darcy is gazing at my eyes, he looks so goddamn calm. I summon every fiber of my being to stop myself from crying.

  “First things first: I am not ending what we have. That’s the last thing I want to do, and it’s not happening. Period.”

  “What do you mean by that…fuck. Just, please explain, and don’t delay it anymore.”

  “Lizzie, I want you in my life. I never want to lose that. I feel as strongly about that as I feel about anything. I’ve found a way to keep what we have while I also run Bennet Babes.”

  I’ll admit it: I’m full-on crying at this point. I’m also flat-out confused, so I try to stay balanced with my words.

  “Please, Mr. Darcy, elucidate what you mean by that.”

  Darcy does not break his eye contact and his warm expression doesn’t falter.

  “Your archives are, I can say confidently, the best in the business. And, I bet you have even more content that’s not online right now.”

  Fuck, now I am going to throw up, and also throw this goddamn desk out the window. I feel my face flushing with rage. As much as I want to tell Darcy to just stop talking, please, I can’t even find my voice. I know where he’s going and I can’t stop him from telling me anyway.

  “All that content, Lizzie. We have the quality and quantity to put all other tube sites to shame. We can eliminate almost all our current expenses, and then, Lizzie, we can stay together. I’m as surprised as anyone that I’m actually about to say this, but you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  I’m not crying anymore. I’m just beyond everything: beyond upset, beyond sickened, beyond perplexed that he would dare to do this.

  “I just have one question: what’s going to happen to everyone who relies on the site for their livelihood? What happens to all the staff you won’t need anymore? What happens to my friends?”

  Something about that last word breaks me. Tears start streaming out, and I just want to throw myself on the floor and sob. Instead, I just look at Darcy, knowing that he has no good answer. He cannot meet my gaze.

  He’s projecting somber shame, but how can I trust him now?

  I stand up and walk as steadily as I can to the office door. I can’t leave it like this, though. I cannot even stomach facing him right now, so with my back to him I say my piece:

  “I’m not fooled, Mr. Darcy. If it’s not your cock, or your wallet, it means nothing to you.”

  I don’t know what comes next, but for now, all I can do is walk out the door.

  Darcy

  Well, that certainly could’ve gone better.

  I slump down in my chair. My ordinarily perfect posture goes to shit. I thought I had come up with the ideal plan to acquire Bennet Babes and keep Lizzie in my life.

  But she wasn’t having any of it. And now, here I am. Alone in my office.

  I don’t want to drown my sorrows in an expensive bottle of wine. I don’t want to call an escort and fuck her brains out until I feel better about myself. I just want Lizzie back in my arms.

  The door opens. Could it be Lizzie coming back to work things out? Nope. It’s Chuck.

  I go back to being the saddest man in the world as Chuck lets himself in and takes a seat.

  “So, I saw Lizzie storm out of here,” he says. I don’t feel like answering. He goes on, “I take it she didn’t take kindly to your proposal to turn Bennet Babes into a tube site?”

  “She could have had everything,” I finally say. “She could have had any job she wanted. All she had to do was ask. And now she may be out of my life forever.”

  Chuck fidgets in his chair for a moment. Then he says, “You know, those girls are all very close to each other. If you were to turn Bennet Babes into a tube site, Lizzie may have been fine afterward, but the others would’ve been fucked.”

  The other girls. Jane, Mary, Charlie, and Lydia. They’re all beautiful.

  If I had met any of them a year ago, there’s no doubt in my mind I would be able to fuck each and every one of them. Hell, I probably could’ve fucked them all in a single afternoon.

  The first night I watched Lizzie’s cam show, I could’ve stumbled across any of these girls’ shows. Perhaps I would’ve been more enraptured by one of them and started a physical relationship with one of them instead of Lizzie.

  Or maybe I would’ve gone on one of their cam shows and been completely disinterested. This whole deal could’ve gone through without me getting my personal life entangled. A single click of a button, and my entire life would’ve been different.

  I’m not one to believe in fate. People meet other people all the time, and I don’t think a chance encounter is generally special just because
the planets aligned or whatever. But maybe something special did happen with Lizzie and me.

  he could be more to me than just a woman I tie up and fuck from time to time.

  “Maybe Lizzie wasn’t just looking for a better life for herself. Maybe this whole time, she’s been trying to ensure her friends would also be taken care of,” I state.

  It makes sense. That could have been why Lizzie wanted to talk to me about her marketing ideas. It’s possible she wanted to give herself some leverage for negotiations. If she made herself indispensable at this company, then she could practically do whatever she wanted. I can’t believe I missed such an obvious explanation.

  Lizzie has been looking for the best possible situation for herself, me, and the other Bennet Babes. I’ve only been focused about how to give her what she wants while simultaneously ensuring my needs are met.

  But it may already be too late. I hurt Lizzie, and I don’t know if I can get her back.

  I’ve spent years in the business world. And I’ve always prided myself on never misjudging a situation. I never took business owners at their word for how much their company was truly worth. I did my due diligence.

  But with Lizzie, I misjudged the scenario entirely. To an extent, it makes sense. Although there is a lot I’ve learned about running a business in my life, I’m still quite the novice when it comes to actual relationships.

  Don’t get me wrong, I can fuck like there’s no tomorrow and make a woman cum multiple times with just my tongue, but I still never really had to learn how to read a woman I actually had feelings for.

  What can I say? I fucked up.

  “Here’s something to think about. Do you really need that ‘No Fucking Coworkers’ rule?” Chuck asks.

  “Of course,” I immediately respond with. But even I don’t believe myself.

  The rule began as a way to ensure I never jeopardized my business. I love fucking, and I’ve seen too many powerful men fall prey to giving into their basest urges in the office. Needless to say, this would cause problems, especially if the executive in question was already married.

  I wanted to avoid those pitfalls. I never want to get out of business. Even when I’m 95 years old, I hope to still be at this very office, overseeing everything.

  I also hope to still be fucking supermodels at 95, but one step at a time.

  “Actually, I don’t know,” I say. My rule was meant to protect myself and my fortune, but maybe I no longer need this safeguard with Lizzie. She makes me feel safe. She trusts me implicitly.

  In fact, I don’t know if I ever want to fuck another woman ever again. Literally anything I want to do in the bedroom, Lizzie would be open to it.

  Not only that, I can see myself actually enjoying Lizzie’s company when we’re not fucking. A lot of women are good for a one night stand, and then I quickly get bored with them.

  Not Lizzie.

  She can carry on a conversation. She has a genuine interest in what I do. She accepts me for who I am and doesn’t want to change me.

  Lizzie is perfect, and I was a fool to treat her like she was just another escort for me to fuck and then toss aside.

  “So, does this mean the famous Darcy rule is finally going off to the wayside?” Chuck asks.

  “I think it does, Chuck,” I respond. “And I think I need to go find Lizzie.”

  Darcy

  I’m a man on a mission now. I had my limo driver pick me up, and now I’m on my way to the Bennet mansion to make things right with Lizzie. I swear to god I’ll do everything in my power to get her back.

  My curiosity gets the best of me. I take out my phone and go over to the Bennet Babes cam show. I can’t stand going this long without seeing her gorgeous face and hearing her voice. I head over to Lizzie’s show, but it’s different this time around.

  Lizzie isn’t alone.

  She’s surrounded by the other girls. They’re all holding each other’s hands and hugging each other. They’re not close because they need to stay within the frame; they’re supporting each other.

  All the girls may be smiling, but I can tell there’s uncertainty and trepidation behind those happy faces. They don’t know if they’re going to have jobs in the next few days.

  “Drive faster, please,” I shout toward the driver.

  “Right away, sir,” he responds. Nothing seems to change. I suspect the limo is only moving an extra two miles per hour faster than before. I need to get to Lizzie soon.

  I listen in on what Lizzie has to say: “We are just so ecstatic of the support we’ve gotten from all of you over the years. Bennet Babes is a real online institution, and even though we don’t know what’s going to happen, we want to make sure you, our fans, are kept in the loop.”

  Lydia chimes in, “Whatever happens to us, we want all of you to follow us. Make sure to keep up-to-date with us on Twitter, Snapchat, and everything else to see where we end up.”

  Charlie says, “We’ve even been talking about starting our own cam site. It would give us even more opportunities to do things we weren’t allowed to do on Bennet Babes.”

  The comments light up after that. A bunch of tips roll in. I haven’t seen the girls earn this much money in the time I’ve been watching them.

  The money is even approaching the amount I donated the first time I saw Lizzie. These girls could probably live quite well from the money they’re raising on this one cam show.

  “Oh, come on. Is that all you guys have?” Lydia coos. She starts playing with the t-shirt, slowly revealing her under boob and then showing the whole thing. Jane starts playing with Lydia’s tit on camera and flicks her tongue against the nipple.

  These girls really care about each other. They may have met each other through this site, but I think if they met under normal circumstances, they would have been fast friends. I think this is partly the reason Lizzie has been so adamant about protecting the site this entire time.

  The list of rules she gave me when I met her in person for the first time. Her marketing ideas. They all care about each other.

  It strikes me that I’m having rather sweet thoughts when I’m literally just watching a girl suck another girl’s tits. Dear god. Lizzie truly made me a changed man.

  It takes me a second to come to my senses when my limo pulls up to the mansion. I get out and look up at the building. There are thousands of men in the world right now who would kill to be where I am right now.

  I’ve run a successful business and met a beautiful, kinky woman. Things most guys would kill for, I’ve completely taken for granted. But not anymore.

  I walk through the front door. No one is there to greet me. Under normal circumstances, I would assume no one was home, but I keep my phone in my hand to watch the show. The girls continue to egg on the donors while the girls take turn making out with each other. It’s soft core right now. Nothing to write home about, but Lizzie catches my eye.

  The other girls try to bring Lizzie in on the action. She may do something like feel up one of the others, but she’s not getting into the physical acts like the others. I’m sure the other viewers aren’t paying any attention to her.

  There’s a lot going on the screen right now to focus on. But Lizzie has my total attention.

  Something is on her mind, and I know it’s me. Ordinarily, I could read Lizzie like a book. I know she’s thinking about me, but I can’t tell if it’s good or bad.

  Is she thinking about how she thought she had found the perfect man only to discover he was a total asshole? Is she thinking about getting back together with me and working through our problems? I hope it’s the latter, but I can’t be sure.

  I walk up the stairs, and the sound coming from my phone begins to blend in from the actual noise coming from Lizzie’s room. I quickly turn down the volume on my phone so as not to alert any of the girls of my presence. At last, I make it to Lizzie’s door.

  I can hear the girls continue to squeal with excitement and for good reason. The tips continue coming in bigger and bigg
er quantities. Well, I guess it’s time to make my entrance.

  But first, I need to make a good impression. The first time I watched Lizzie’s cam show, I came up with the name “Mr. Big.” I thought it was cute. If I give another tip as Mr. Big, then Lizzie will know it’s me immediately. I want to give her one last surprise before she sees me.

  This time, I simply enter my name as “anonymous”. I punch in a number that’s higher than most people end up paying for a house.

  Once I hit “Enter,” I half-expect the screen to bring up an error message saying, “Are you really fucking sure you want to give that much?” But it goes through, and I hear the symphony of screams that come from Lizzie’s room.

  I continue watching from my phone, and the girls are freaking the fuck out. They understandably can’t contain their excitement. Lizzie flips out the most and yells into the camera, “Oh my fucking god! Who donated this much?”

  The girls all gather around the screen, taking time away from making out with each other to look at the screen. They’re all confused at the fact the screen simply says “anonymous.” I bet they were hoping for some celebrity’s name to come up.

  Well, it’s now or never. I knock on the door and wait for the girls to answer.

  Lizzie

  This is a rare moment in my performing career. Jane, Mary, Lydia and Charlie are all staring at me. I do not break character like that during a show, and they don’t either, but these are not usual times.

  Thanks to some rando dropping a record-breaking tip, all our futures are suddenly much brighter. Damn right I’m excited, and I don’t think it’s wrong to show it.

  I also want to know who Mr. Moneybags is, but that may not be an option. Whoever it is probably wants the show to continue, anyway, so I take a quiet breath and prepare to charge right back into it

  I turn my face off-camera to give my colleagues a quick look. We’re all phenomenal at reading each other’s expressions by now. In fact, I think it’s safe to say that we’re all masters of telepathy.