The Boss's Fake Fiancée

by Susan Meier

  She laughed. “All women watch their weight.”

  Her laughter thrilled him. She’d laughed with him before. Especially when she was dressed up and pretending to be somebody else. But this woman was the real Lila and she was laughing with him.

  “Hell of a cross to bear,” he said, teasing her, hoping she wouldn’t disappear back into the protective shell of the character she was supposed to be playing.

  “Yeah, especially when your fiancé serves you steak slathered in butter.”

  He liked the way she very casually called him her fiancé. Maybe he was getting accustomed to that too?

  “Tell me a bit about growing up in foster care.”

  “I already told you I don’t care to revisit all that. Why don’t you tell me more about growing up here? Now that I’ve seen your home and met your family, I’ll have a better perspective.”

  He set his fork down. This dinner was supposed to be about getting to know her and she’d already turned the tables. But what if part of getting her to trust him was respecting her wishes? She didn’t want to talk about her years in foster care. Who could blame her? And she did want to hear about his childhood.

  “All right. When my dad and his brother inherited the vineyard, they also bought the adjoining vineyard, not just to increase the business enough to support two families, but also to have a second residence.”

  She put her elbow on the table and her chin on her fist, watching him as he spoke. “That’s how you and Riccardo became so close? You grew up next door to each other.”

  “We grew up together. My mom and my aunt basically ran the business office, and the stories go that Riccardo and I were in the same play yard between their two desks.”

  She smiled. “Your moms didn’t want to be away from you or have you raised by a babysitter. That’s kinda nice.”

  “I never thought of it that way before, but, sí. It probably was nice.”

  He could see a shadow of sadness in her eyes and ached to ask her about her own childhood, but knew it was nowhere near as pleasant as his, and suddenly he understood her hesitancy to talk about it. Who would want to relive loneliness? Pain?

  “So,” he said, picking up his fork again, deciding to continue talking about himself, about good times, so that maybe she could live them through him. “By the time we were six or eight, we behaved more like twins than cousins. We worked alongside each other in the vineyards when we were teens, and had desks in the same room when we began our internships in the office.”

  As he took a bite of steak, she said, “That makes sense. And also explains how well you click for Ochoa Online.”

  “Technically, we’ve been working together for decades.”

  Her smile warmed. “That’s wonderful.”

  “Or you could say our dads took advantage of slave labor.”

  That made her laugh. “It was good to be together so much. It bonded you. Made you the great team you are today.”

  “Yes.” And he could see that she envied that. Or maybe longed for it. He felt the empty hole in her life as surely as if it were a living, breathing thing.

  “What about Christmas?”

  He glanced over at her. “What about Christmas?”

  “With all this togetherness, your family Christmas must be happy.” Her smile grew. “Wonderful.”

  He pulled in a breath. He’d never really thought about it. But he supposed that to an outsider, someone who was totally alone, being surrounded by so much family must be wonderful. “Riccardo’s family and our family have separate celebrations for some things. But everybody likes to be with Nanna, so Christmas Eve is in her quarters. Christmas dinner is in my parents’.”

  She nodded. “Nice.”

  “Really. It is.” And he now regretted whining about having to fly to Spain for the holidays last year when she might not have had anywhere at all to go.

  Knowing he had to get them out of this weird mood, he said, “Okay, so you don’t want to discuss your childhood...and I respect that. But surely you’ve got a good story or two from university.”

  She thought about that. “The whole reason I made it through was that the coffee shop I worked for paid well and had great benefits. They also paid a big portion of my tuition.”

  His heart lifted a bit for her. “That was a lucky break.”

  “Yes. That was when I began to see that in some respects I was lucky.”

  Being a foster child did not make her lucky. Having one good life break also did not make her lucky. Yet her tone of voice said she believed she was.

  His curiosity rose and he peeked at her. “How so?”

  “No matter where I worked or who I roomed with, I was able to make friends. I was always able to find friends.”

  He leaned forward, across the table, putting his elbow close to hers and his chin on his fist, mimicking her. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “You should be surprised. In an entire year this is our first real conversation. You obviously think I’m a real dolt.”

  “Maybe I’m the dolt who never thought to ask you anything personal?”

  “Personal things don’t belong in the workplace.”

  “Yes, but you went out of your way for me. A lot.” He leaned a little closer; the desire to kiss her once again swam through his veins. This time it was stronger, more powerful. She wasn’t just Lila, his confusing assistant. She wasn’t Lila, his fake fiancée being sexy. She was both of those wrapped up in one cute little package with sleek hair and big glasses. And he liked her. He really liked her.

  He leaned in a little closer. “I did notice what a good worker you were.”

  “But you never noticed me otherwise.”

  He leaned in a little more. “I’m noticing now.”

  Her tongue darted out and slid along her lips, but she didn’t move. Maybe being together in a different situation than boss and assistant had changed her opinion of him too? Maybe it made her notice him as more than a boss?

  He erased the final inches between them and pressed his lips to hers. Soft and warm, they melted under his touch. Desire slammed through him, but so did an aching frustration. How could he kiss her properly sitting down, with a table between them? Without breaking the contact of their mouths, he slid his hands behind her upper arms and pulled her up with him as he rose, taking the step that put them as close as they had been when they were dancing.

  Then he deepened the kiss and unexpected awareness spiraled through him. This wasn’t a woman he’d met in Central Park, at the theater or in a coffee shop.

  This was Lila.

  A woman he genuinely liked.

  And he was kissing her.

  It was the most different, most wonderful thing.

  CHAPTER SIX

  LILA’S HEART HAMMERED in her chest. She had been Real Lila all through dinner, hoping to deter him. Instead, the opposite had happened. He seemed interested in her, bare feet, glasses and all. She had absolutely no idea what had happened, what was happening between them, but she’d had enough boyfriends, flirtations and relationships to know the man was interested in her.

  The man she’d had a crush on for the past year wasn’t just noticing her. He was interested.

  Kissing her.

  The warmth that filled her was part joy, part need. Then he deepened the kiss a second time, opening her mouth and sliding his tongue along the rough texture of hers, and her knees about buckled.

  He was definitely interested in her.

  The oddest thought drifted into her brain, wound around her nerve endings and whispered through her consciousness.

  What if this was her chance?

  What if fate had set her up as his fake fiancée not to get her a new job but to have a real chance with him? Yes, she wanted to find her mom, but she could do it
as easily as his girlfriend as she could some nameless assistant working for another company. Maybe more easily. If she could get up her courage and tell him the truth about her past, maybe he could use his connections to help her?

  Her breath stalled. But he pulled back slightly.

  Raising his hands to the stems of her glasses, he said, “Let’s get rid of these.”

  “Okay.” Her voice came out a mere whisper, as horrible pain tumbled through her.

  He’d asked her to take off her glasses. He didn’t like her. He liked Fake Lila. He’d taken off the glasses to bring her back. If he wanted Fake Lila, she couldn’t tell him the truth. She couldn’t tell him anything.

  Unless...

  She looked down at the tortoiseshell frames on the table. Unless he was about to take them into no-glasses territory? The big romantic place. The place for which she wasn’t prepared...

  His bedroom.

  All the wonderful warmth floating through her turned to the ice of fear. If he was only toying with her, or having some fun with Fake Lila, it would kill her to make love with him, and then be nothing to him when they got home. But even if he was getting feelings for her, this was too soon. She wasn’t ready. But he wasn’t either. He didn’t know her. Not all of her. And unless she could say with absolute certainty that he was interested in Real Lila, not Fake Lila, she couldn’t tell him. She most certainly couldn’t go to his bedroom with him.

  She took a step back, cleared her throat and looked him in the eye, as much as she could without her thick glasses.

  “We have a big day tomorrow with Julia’s parents’ garden party.” She took another step back. “So I’m going to go.” She picked up her glasses and motioned to her bedroom. “I want to make sure I get enough sleep.”

  His head tilted as if she’d confused him.

  Okay. They were even then because he’d sure as hell confused her.

  She turned and walked back to her bedroom with as much grace and dignity as she could muster. Behind the safety of her closed door, she slipped out of her skirt and blouse and into her Giants T-shirt and pajama pants.

  But sleep didn’t come.

  She tried for an hour, wishing she had someone to talk to, then realized that she did. She might not have a close friend in Spain, but she had plenty of friends in New York. And it was still daytime there.

  Grabbing her cell phone, she hit contacts and dialed Sally’s number. Though she was probably at work, she answered in three rings.

  “So how’s life in the fast lane?”

  “A lot faster than I thought it was going to be.”

  Sally sighed greedily. “Tell me everything.”

  Lila sat up in bed, plumped her pillows and plunged into a discussion of Nanna and Julia, balls and shopping.

  “Oh, my gosh!” Sally’s voice dripped with incredulity. “That’s unbelievable.”

  “Okay, then. If you think that’s unbelievable, you’re gonna faint at this.”

  “I am on the edge of my chair.”

  “He kissed me.”

  “He? Mitch? Isn’t he supposed to kiss you to make the ruse work?”

  “Yes. But that’s only in public. He kissed me in private tonight.”

  “What in the heck is happening between you two?”

  “That’s the big question.” She paused, bit her lower lip. “I kinda dressed like Real Lila for dinner tonight, except that I like the way mascara looks and a little lip gloss never killed anyone. So I was a cross between Real Lila and Fake Lila.”

  “You’re enjoying this! You don’t want to be a mouse anymore.”

  “I just... I don’t know. I guess I never realized mascara and pretty blouses could make such a big difference. Especially with my hair all sleek.”

  “And you like new Lila.”

  “I’m not really new. It’s still me, except pretty.”

  “You were always pretty. You just hid it.”

  She sighed. “I suppose.”

  “So if you’re enjoying this and the guy you swoon over kissed you, what’s the problem?”

  “He took off my glasses when we were kissing.”

  “And?”

  “And it makes me feel that either he doesn’t like to be reminded of the real me or he was going to take us a little further than I was ready to go.”

  Sally’s “Oh...” came out slow and strangled. “You’re in the big leagues.”

  “I guess.”

  “And it happened too fast?”

  “We’ve only been here a few days.”

  “I get that. But technically you’ve known him for a year.”

  “I know him, but he doesn’t know me.”

  They were silent for a few seconds, then Sally said, “You can’t tell him about your mom?”

  “I could... I would if I knew he was interested in me. For real. But I won’t humiliate myself by telling the story to someone when it doesn’t really matter.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  Lila laughed. “Call you?”

  “For advice. Hmmm.” Sally paused, obviously considering how to answer. “I think that if he only likes Fake Lila you’re right to back off.”

  “That’s my thought too.”

  “Now, don’t be ready to jump ship yet. There’s another side to this. If you really are sliding into a combination of Fake Lila and Real Lila, then you just have to make sure he slides with you. Then you can tell him. Then he’ll know you, and everything else is going to depend on whether or not he’s genuinely interested or just being a player.”

  “I forgot what a serial dater he is.”

  “Yeah,” Sally said, obviously still thinking. “But all men date around until the right girl catches their attention.”

  “You think I’m the right girl for him?”

  “You don’t?”

  She had. From the first moment she laid eyes on him, she had. She sighed heavily, almost afraid to admit it, afraid to jinx what was happening between them. “I do.”

  “Then keep wearing your glasses. Not all the time, but in your downtime. If it’s you he likes, he’ll adjust to Real Lila, and you’ll know it. Then you can tell him about your mom. And if he doesn’t adjust? Then maybe you don’t want him.”

  * * *

  The following evening, Mitch sat in the sitting area of his small apartment, waiting for Lila. He knew she’d talked to his grandmother about what to wear to this outdoor cocktail party, but he didn’t think she had to worry. She seemed to have impeccable taste. Or at least the knowledge of what looked good on her because she’d been stunning him since the day she got out of the limo at the airport.

  And that kiss? It had been amazing.

  But he had no idea what he was doing with her. First, she didn’t really talk to him. She very well could be pregnant, yet she hadn’t felt the need to tell him and he still didn’t feel comfortable asking. Then there was the matter of her wanting another job. All along, he’d had a ping that something was terribly wrong with that. If she was pregnant, maybe a new job had something to do with affording a baby. But he and Riccardo could provide both money and moral support. So why was she leaving them?

  Still, the biggest reason of all to be careful was that he didn’t want to hurt her. He’d been horribly surprised by Julia falling in love with Alonzo. True, it all sorted out for him very quickly, but there was no place in a Spaniard’s life for weakness. And with the abundance of potential dates in New York City, he’d happily realized he never had to get serious about a woman again.

  Which meant, if he got involved with Lila, their relationship wouldn’t last. It would end. And he would hurt her.

  He shouldn’t have kissed her.

  She had been right to step away and go to her room.

  So
how did he get this charade back on track and still nose into her personal life—on the chance that he could help her if she was pregnant?

  He wasn’t sure he could.

  Her bedroom door opened. She stepped out wearing a yellow dress and light-colored sandals, not quite white but not quite yellow either. Her hair had been pinned up on one side.

  She pointed at it. “This is my nod toward the fact that the party is outside.”

  “You look—” Perfect. Fantastic. Unreal. So wonderful he wanted to bite her neck, and make her laugh and moan at the same time.

  He sucked in a breath, reminding himself that if she was pregnant, he wanted to help her, and he couldn’t help her if he romanced her then dumped her. But pregnancy aside, they were here to ensure his brother and future sister-in-law were the stars of this wedding celebration.

  They had a charade to pull off. And he had to make sure she would do her part.

  “You look very nice.”

  She peered at him. “That’s it? Very nice?”

  He laughed. “All right. You look spectacular. You’ve been surprising me every day of this trip.” He suddenly realized the one thing that would get her totally on board again. Her reward. The reason she’d agreed to do this. “In fact, you’re helping me so much that I can’t even tell you how grateful I am. So I think it might be time you and I talk about the new job you want.”

  “Now?”

  He pointed to the door. “I’ll need details on things like the kind of work you want to do, how much salary you want, benefits—” He said that, then paused, giving her the chance to say, “Yeah, I’m going to need good benefits with a baby on the way.” But she didn’t take the bait. “So that I can take a look at my friend list and call their HR departments to see who needs someone.”

  “Okay.”

  He caught her gaze. “You know. This is the kind of task I’d normally give to you.”

  She looked down. “I’m kind of busy right now.”

  The urge to put his finger under her chin and lift her face was nearly irresistible, and he was glad he’d started this conversation. Leaving him made her as unhappy as the thought of her leaving made him. There was hope that he could persuade her to stay in his employ—with a raise—and then he could help her. He just had to tread lightly.