I nodded. “Yes, I do. Sorry.”
As predicted, Tripp immediately backed off. “Hmph. Lucky guy,” he muttered before stepping away to flirt with one of the pretty young makeup artists. She immediately fawned all over him.
Urgh.
The next few hours dragged by. Things weren’t running so smoothly now. At half past three, Mr. September stepped over to the infinity cove for his set, meaning the shoot was only an hour or so from wrapping up. Thank god. I loved my job, but today had somewhat frayed my nerves.
It occurred to me that it was only going to get worse once I got home. Now that the fake boyfriend angle had played itself out and failed within the space of eight hours, I was going to have to call my sister and come clean. I knew she’d understand, and I knew she’d forgive me for lying. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was how my mother would react when she found out. My insides petrified at the thought. I could practically hear her vindictive cackling already.
I couldn’t bear it. Nope, I just couldn’t.
Groaning, I rubbed my temples. If only Nathan Jessup hadn’t been headhunted all the way to Seoul. Better yet, if only I hadn’t told Mom and Libby a specific name. At least then I could’ve possibly taken another male friend of mine as my fake boyfriend. Then I’d have a wedding date and my mother would have to keep her mouth zipped.
But that was out of the question now. I did tell them a specific name, and I couldn’t ask one of my guy friends to try and play along by pretending their name was Nathan. The plan was already crazy enough, and that would just be too hard to keep up with on top of everything else.
I sighed heavily. I didn’t know any other Nathans apart from Tiana’s brother, so the only hope I had of actually taking a date called Nathan had already evaporated.
I stopped and looked over at Nate Scott.
Or had it?
2
Georgie
“Tiana, can you keep an eye on things for a minute?” I asked hurriedly. She nodded, and I crossed the room, heading straight for Nate Scott. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket as I tentatively stepped toward him, and he sighed and answered it, slipping out of the room before I could reach him. He hadn’t even noticed me.
I followed him down the hall anyway, high on adrenaline. His name was short for Nathan…or maybe Nathaniel. Close enough. And while he was obviously kind of grumpy and rude, he was hot enough to wipe the smirk off my mother’s face for a while.
I had no idea what I was actually going to say to him, though. Hey, you were rude to me earlier, so be my fake boyfriend to make up for it?
Yeah, right.
Nate turned into a different hall, and I stopped and abruptly spun on my heel, my mood deflating as I realized what a ridiculous thing I was doing. I was being totally delusional. Why would a rich, gorgeous, relatively-famous man agree to be my fake date for two straight weeks? I had nothing to offer him in return other than a paid vacation to Saint Clare Island, but a guy as wealthy as him could enjoy a vacation whenever and wherever he wanted.
I’d just started making my way back down the hallway when I overheard a fragment of Nate’s phone conversation from around the corner. It stopped me in my tracks.
“It’s fucked. Totally fucked. I’m basically broke now, man,” he was saying in a low voice.
I tilted my head to the side. It was none of my business, but… broke? How on earth was a guy like Nate Scott broke?
I kept listening.
“He cleared my main accounts.” He paused. “Oh, yeah, the investment accounts are still fine. But they aren’t mine; they’re for our clients. I can’t touch them, and I wouldn’t. I’m not that much of a piece of shit. Not like him.” Another pause. “Yeah, I know, I’m surprised he hasn’t tried it already. Probably has, actually, but those accounts are all untouchable, thank fuck.”
Hmm. So someone took his personal fortune somehow?
I heard him take another step, and I had to strain to hear the rest.
“No, I tried that. It’s been four fucking months and even the FBI hasn’t been able to pin it on him. But we all know it was him.” Another lengthy pause. “Yeah, the case is still open, but only as a formality. It’s dead. It’s like the money was just deleted from existence. There’s no trail, no solid evidence. So as long as my beloved brother denies it and keeps the money hidden well enough, he’s golden. And my money is just gone. Fucking gone.”
His brother stole his fortune? Ooh, juicy. And horrible, of course. It was times like this I was grateful for my sweet little sister. She once cried because she lost one of my favorite dolls, so I simply couldn’t imagine being related to someone who ran off with all my money.
“Yeah, I was just wondering if you can connect me to that guy you used when they weren’t helping you after all that hacking shit. I’m willing to try anything at this point. Uh-huh. Great. Thanks, man. Send me his details.”
A germ of an idea formed in my head as I replayed what I’d just heard in my head. Maybe, just maybe, Nate needed a bit of help just as much as I did. Maybe we could even strike a deal.
I turned back and headed around the corner. “Hey, ass-kicker,” I said breezily. It was meant to be a dig at what Nate said earlier when he said he was going to ‘kick George’s ass’ but I immediately cringed at myself. Now was not the time for dumb jokes.
Nate turned his stony grey eyes on me, surprise registering in them for a split second before he composed himself. “Did you hear any of that?” he asked.
Up close, he was even hotter than I originally assessed. I could probably cut glass on that jawline, so it was no wonder he enjoyed such a playboy reputation in our city. Women would drop their panties like they were on fire for a guy with a face like that, even if they knew he was broke. And don’t even get me started on those arms. Or that chest…
My stomach did a little flip-flop and I nearly forgot why I was standing here.
“Hm?” Nate arched an eyebrow.
I snapped back to reality and held up a hand. “I wasn’t eavesdropping, I swear. I mean, not on purpose.”
“Right. So how much did you hear?”
My face turned hot. “Uh… most of it. But look, it’s fine. I’m not one of those drunken fangirls who only speak to you because they think you’re a millionaire.”
“I am a millionaire,” he said, forehead crinkling in a slight frown. “Most of my money is just temporarily… displaced.”
“Displaced meaning you don’t have it right now, and you might not even get it all back. I heard you saying it’s been a few months.”
He visibly winced.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to sound so harsh,” I offered lamely. “I don’t even know why I said it.”
Actually, I did know. I was one of those terrible people who constantly put their foot in their mouth. Worse, I was one of those people who kept talking after putting their foot in their mouth, spewing forth words in the hopes I’d say something to make up for whatever I previously said, then inevitably saying something even more offensive instead, making the whole situation five times worse.
“It’s fine. My fault. I shouldn’t have assumed this hallway was completely empty,” he said, expression no longer betraying anything. “But seeing as we’re here anyway, I’d like to think you can respect my privacy enough to keep what you overheard to yourself. I don’t want the CryptX investors hearing rumors and thinking their money is in danger. It’s not.”
I mimed zipping my lip. “I promise I won’t say a word.”
“Good. So what can I do for you? You guys need to shoot me now?”
“Not yet. They’re still doing September. I had a personal question, actually.”
He raised a brow. “All right.”
“I was thinking we could help each other out.”
Nate smiled at me the same way a person might smile at a cute child telling a joke. He took a step closer. “Yeah? How so?”
I tried my best not to notice that he had dimples when he
smiled. Tried my best not to notice how good he smelled now that he was close enough for me to catch a whiff of his cologne.
“I’m in a bit of a sticky situation, and judging by what I just overheard, you are too,” I said.
The smile vanished. “Right. Well, spit it out.”
My pulse began to race. “Um, yeah. Sorry. I’m getting there.”
Was I, though? I was dancing around the subject, avoiding the point as much as possible. I knew why. That much was obvious.
Firstly, my proposal was something most people would refer to as bat-shit crazy. And secondly, Nate Scott might just be the sexiest guy I’d ever been within ten feet of. The longer I stood in his presence, the more my brain seemed to melt.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Well?”
I bit my bottom lip. Then I bit the bullet and asked my burning question.
3
Nate
“Will you be my fake boyfriend?”
The vivacious creative director’s words hung in the air. We stood in an awkward silence for a few seconds, and I almost did a double take before responding. “Huh?”
I wasn’t sure you could even call that a response, but I was too shocked to say anything else. When she said her question somehow pertained to my current situation, I thought she was going to ask me to lend my expertise in some sort of new investment scheme, in return for a profit share.
Not that.
“I need a boyfriend for a couple of weeks. And see, I won a scratch card thingy the other week. Fifteen grand,” she said. She was obviously flustered, talking at a rate which damn near approached the speed of sound. “I already put a bit toward my mortgage, but I was just going to use the rest for fun. Treat myself, you know. So anyway—”
I held up a hand to interrupt her awkward speech, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “Georgie, you’re way too hot to pay men for sex.”
It was true. She was sex on legs. Women with green eyes were my kryptonite, and hers had speared me with their stark beauty from the first moment I saw her. I’d gladly spend a night with her free of charge. Especially after she surreptitiously called me out at the start of the shoot earlier. I was a grumpy asshole, but she made it clear she wasn’t the sort of woman to take crap from a guy. I liked that. She was very much the sort of woman you couldn’t ignore, couldn’t look away from, and definitely couldn’t step on.
But I suppose I couldn’t let her intriguing looks and awkwardly-endearing personality distract me from whatever this outlandish question of hers was about. She’d said she thought she could help me, but I failed to see where she was going with it so far.
Her eyes widened as my words registered with her. She wasn’t just taken aback. She literally took a step back. “N-no. I didn’t mean I wanted to pay you for… that. I just need a date for a wedding. It’s a bit complicated.”
I folded my arms. “I was just teasing. But I’m listening,” I said, unable to keep the amusement out of my voice. Georgie was so adorably nervous that it actually distracted me from the hell that was my private life right now.
“My sister is getting married in a month on Saint Clare Island. You know, in the Bunbury Islands. She’s having the guests arrive two weeks before that for all the celebrations. And see, I sort of lied to her and my mother about having a boyfriend to bring.”
I twisted my lips, trying not to laugh. “Why?”
She bit her lip for a second. “It’s a long story. But basically, my mom never stops harassing me for being single. And I… well, I just don’t have time for a relationship right now, with work and all,” she said, looking at her feet as she said that last part. I had a feeling that wasn’t the real reason she was single, but I held my tongue and let her continue. “So I lied, and now I need someone to pretend to be my date.”
I had to take back my earlier sentiment. Turns out there was someone on this earth who could step on Georgina Miller. Her mother.
“So instead of admitting to your family that you’re the kind of woman who occasionally lies about having a boyfriend, you’re just going to fully commit to the lie and actually get a fake boyfriend?”
“Uh… yeah.”
I lifted a brow. “Gotta admire that tenacity.”
She gritted her teeth for a second before replying. “It’s not tenacity. It’s… look, if you met my mother, you’d understand. Trust me.”
“Moms, huh?” I grinned.
“Is yours that bad too?” she asked.
My limbs tensed up, ever so slightly. I scratched my jaw. “No. It’s just something people say, right?”
“Oh. Yeah.” Georgie’s face flushed, and she quickly steered the conversation back to her proposal. “Anyway, you said you were broke, and like I said before, I have a bit of spare money to play with at the moment. So this will sound nuts, but hear me out.”
“Okay.”
“I could pay you to come and be my fake date for two weeks. Plus you get the free vacation to the islands. I can even throw in some freebies a client gave me last week,” she said, her eyes wide and her brows raised in an animated expression. “Tickets to an animal sanctuary upstate and a voucher for a free weekend stay at a spa retreat nearby. If you’re into that stuff; I don’t know.”
My eyebrows were practically touching the ceiling by this stage. “You want to pay me to be your fake boyfriend and go all the way to Saint Clare Island with you. For two weeks.”
It wasn’t a question. Just a statement on how ludicrous it was.
Georgie nodded. “Yes. Um… say, five thousand dollars? I mean, that could help you, right?”
She looked so earnest. So certain that five grand could actually help me right now. It was cute. Really fucking cute.
I wasn’t actually broke. At least not in the sense that ninety-nine point nine percent of people would refer to as broke. My company was still performing well, and I had more than enough in my backup account to keep me going for another few years yet. Not to mention all my personal assets, like my house and cars.
When I was talking to my acquaintance earlier, I was merely embellishing the situation to make my point. After all, losing ten million was a big fucking deal. Just because I still had a bit left didn’t mean I wasn’t fucking devastated over the loss.
To tell the truth, though, the biggest devastation was the realization of my culpability in the matter. I wasn’t personally responsible for the money’s disappearance, but I had been dumb enough to leave one of my personal laptops in my office for days at a time, which I’d been warned about in the past. I’d also been dumb enough to trust my older brother Robert with a lot of my personal data. That was what led to the whole fiasco.
Robert had helped me build my crypto brokerage firm, CryptX, from the ground up. I thought I’d more than rewarded him with a fat executive salary and bonuses, but I guess that wasn’t enough. Four months ago, I went into my office, opened my laptop and logged into my accounts to see my personal portfolios cleared and my main bank accounts emptied. At first I thought it was a computer error. Had to be. Money didn’t just disappear from banks. And cryptocurrency portfolios didn’t just magically sell themselves and leave no trace of ever having existed in the first place.
Once I realized it wasn’t a mistake, I called my brother. He’d already texted me earlier to say he wasn’t coming to work that day due to a cold (how convenient) but he came in anyway to help me figure out what was going on. Guess it would’ve immediately looked suspicious if he didn’t, right?
Then we looked into things only to discover he hadn’t covered his tracks as well as he thought. The last person in and out of the office building was him, at three in the morning when no one else was around. His keycard and admin passcodes had been used to enter, disable the security systems, and also wipe all the CCTV tapes so there would be no video evidence. Whoever had used my laptop didn’t hack anything to get into the heavily-protected computer or the encrypted accounts—they simply used my usernames and passwords. No one in the world had those detail
s except me… and Robert.
He denied it. Said he wasn’t that stupid that he would leave such an obvious trail. Once the cops got involved (and later the FBI’s corporate fraud and cybercrimes division), they agreed. Someone was setting him up, they said. There was zero evidence that he’d recently come into more money, his girlfriend was certain that he hadn’t left his house that night, and there was no way he’d be that stupid to use his own keycard and passcodes to get into the building and onto my computer.
Obviously, someone had somehow managed to get their own copies of all his security credentials and key cards. And it wasn’t just some random whip-smart online hacker, either. Whoever committed this crime was physically in the building when they did it, and they seemed to know their way around pretty well. So while it was very likely someone we knew, it wasn’t my brother.
I believed that narrative at first. They were right—it didn’t make any sense for a smart guy like Robert to be that stupid. Also, he was my brother. Sure, we’d had serious problems with each other in the past. Beyond serious, truthfully. But in the end, he was part of my family. He wouldn’t steal from me.
Or so I thought.
Once all our staff members and literally any other possible suspects had been investigated and found to have airtight alibis, suspicion fell on my brother again. He’d quit the company by this stage and started acting like a complete asshole, starting his own competing brokerage. Besides that giant red flag, what was the best way to make people not suspect you? Easy. Play things in such an obviously dumb way that they’d think it simply couldn’t be you.
That’s what he did. I knew it.
The thing that sealed it for me was when he laughed in my face and said it was probably me. He said I was an irresponsible moron who probably got so drunk on the night the money went missing that I spent all the money myself on hookers and strippers. As if that was even possible.
Mr. Man Candy: A Fake Boyfriend Romance Page 3
