“Now. Let’s begin a scene. Any scene you want. Just start, and I’ll keep up.” She sent a reassuring smile toward the class. Almost thirty sets of wide eyes watched the two of them on stage.
“Right.” Gregor pinched his lips together, gaze tracking up and down her body. Did he like what he saw? Kara tried to erase the thought. She shouldn’t care. She needed to clear her mind.
“She speaks!” Gregor suddenly said, his voice carrying bright and clear. “This winged messenger of improvisation!”
Kara smirked. Riffing off of Romeo and Juliet…not bad. “Oh, Gregor, Gregor, wherefore art thou Gregor? Deny my attention and refuse thy lessons?”
“I take thee at thy word,” Gregor responded smoothly, stepping closer. The sincerity in his performance made her breath catch. “Call me but Brad Pitt and I’ll be new baptized.”
The class snickered below them. Kara affected a haughty saunter, strolling past him.
“My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words of your tongue’s utterings, yet I know what awaits, Gregarious Gregor.”
“But do you, Kooky Kara?” Gregor stepped in her path, wrapping an arm around her waist. “By yonder blessed moon I vow…”
“To what?” she countered, the feel of his fingers pressed into her waist distracting her from the scene.
He dipped her backwards, and she relented, leaning on his strong grip to guide her arching back. “To pay attention to every single word you say until this class is over.”
2
The class erupted into applause at their butchered modern version of Romeo and Juliet, and Gregor helped Kara to standing. Her face was flushed, a sure sign that he’d gotten to her. It was his goal with nearly every woman he crossed paths with, but especially her, since she’d been seething annoyance with him since class began.
At least he could win her over with charm. Her lingering looks his way as he departed the stage told him everything he needed to know. Charm was his primary currency, in any country, for any business deal. And he’d need a lot of it to seal the deal before him.
She’ll do quite nicely. He settled back into his seat, intent on at least looking like he was paying more attention. Thank god for his stint in the drama troupe during university; it had paid off all these years later. He hadn’t actually planned on participating in this improv class he’d signed up for. No, his goal was much more difficult than honing his craft or fine-tuning his public speaking. Besides, he was more than accomplished at both of those.
Gregor needed a wife.
Rather, he needed someone to pose as his soulmate, and be willing to take the act all the way to the altar. Hence the last month and a half scouring the Seattle area for improv classes, acting classes, drama meet-ups and everything in between. He needed a woman of a certain age—mid-twenties—of a certain look—gorgeous enough to fool his family that he’d finally chosen his life partner—and with a certain flexibility. Marrying him for convenience would not necessarily be easy, but it would come with benefits. And part of the ruse would involve flying around the world with him, making appearances, supporting his racing career, and convincing his grandmother that the conditions of his grandfather’s last will and testament would indeed be met by the deadline.
It was a tall order on a good day, but Kooky Kara inspired a certain hope in him. She was beautiful enough to make him look twice. Silky, dark brown hair that begged him to run his fingers through it. Charmingly cream-colored complexion that blushed an equally charming rose. And her body was as soft and intoxicating in his arms as any of his most memorable flings.
Let’s just hope she agrees to the deal. Gregor didn’t make the mistake of looking disinterested or bored in class again. Actually, Kooky Kara was quite captivating. She clearly had a talent for teaching people and even more clearly knew her way around the full range of human emotion. All the better for his plan.
After more introductory exercises and a brief question and answer session, the hour-long class wrapped up. A few students beelined for Kara, so Gregor bided his time, crossing an ankle over his knee as he waited.
Kara’s dark eyes glanced at him over the shoulder of the girl talking to her. The theater had almost entirely emptied out; he was the only person still waiting. When the girl walked away and Kara was left chatting quietly with her assistant, Gregor stood. He approached slowly, almost jauntily, loving the lick of curiosity that sizzled through the air as he neared.
He waited as she finished her sentence with the assistant, then he offered a grin that plenty of women had described as dazzling and handsome. “Kooky Kara. Might we speak?”
Kara paused, her mouth parted, as her gaze raked over his face. “Is everything okay?”
“I’d like to speak to you.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Alone, if possible.”
Kara glanced at her assistant, who nodded fiercely, reaching for a bookbag in the front row. “No problem. I’m on my way out. See you tomorrow, Kare!”
The assistant’s footsteps thudded softly on the carpet as she headed for the side door. Gregor watched her go, waiting until the door shut behind her to continue. When he turned to Kara, her brows were knit with worry.
“I hope there isn’t a problem with the class,” she began.
“Oh, no. You have a lovely class.” He pressed his palm against his heart to show his sincerity. “I just felt the need to speak with you privately about…a different matter.”
“Oh?” Kara narrowed her eyes.
“I must ask that you hear me out.” Nervousness pricked at him. In all the classes he’d attended, he’d never gotten as far as making the pitch. Kara was the first woman who even remotely fit the bill. And if he was ever going to sell anything in his life, it needed to be this idea.
“Sure.” She shrugged, but he could taste her confusion like fresh blood.
“My full name is Gregor Beaumont.” He paused, waiting to see if the name jogged her memory. Most everyone he met had at least heard of his company before. Nothing flashed across her face. “I own a company called B3 Motors. My two brothers and I—they’re the other two B’s—we engineer and invest in high performance racing engines. I drive brand awareness and build connections for new contracts and such.” When her eyes narrowed further, he added quickly, “This is not a business meeting. I simply want you to know my background. And what brings me here today.”
“I can’t imagine,” she said softly.
“I shall tell you.” He laughed a bit, running a hand through his hair. He’d practiced this so many times in his head, but when it came down to it, the whole thing was a bit absurd. “I’m the public face of the company. And I’m in a bit of a bind. I need a steady girlfriend to help stabilize my image. For business purposes.” He paused, gauging her reaction. When her face remained neutral, he added, “I’d like to hire you to act as my girlfriend. And I’ll compensate you extremely well for taking on this role.”
Kara blinked several times before her gaze met his. He could practically taste her disbelief. “What?”
“I know it sound quite silly,” he began, “but—”
“Wait a second.” She brought her hand to her forehead, squinting into the distance. “Now I know who you are! I saw you in some magazine once.” She snapped her fingers. “God, that was driving me crazy.”
His belly wrenched. So she had some reference of him after all. “Was it?”
“Yes, you’re that, that…” She waved her hand in the air as she struggled for the word, “That British playboy or whatever. I can’t remember what they called you. You dated Demi Lovato for a little bit, right?”
He cleared his throat. He hadn’t dated her so much as hooked up with her twice before the tabloids picked it up. “Right.”
Kara laughed. “Wow! Okay, so, why do you need a girlfriend again?”
He gnawed at the inside of his lip, looking her up and down. “Because I don’t have one. I—”
“But you have access to all the celebrities of the world,” she interjecte
d, cocking a disbelieving look. She had a point. But they wouldn’t do. And for some reason, he’d thought that the actual impetus behind his search wasn’t so important. But her bullshit radar was finely tuned.
“You’re right. But what I need them, you, someone for is a bit more delicate than that. You see, my grandfather passed away several months ago. The old man liked to meddle in our personal lives, perhaps too much for his own good. He demanded that his grandsons find serious relationships within a year and a half of his death, or else we risk losing control of our company.”
Kara blinked. “Dang, grandpa.”
“He owned a controlling share in our company, but never interfered with our management. Until his death, that is. His estate is scheduled to sell off his share to a competitor if all three of us don’t find wives. Or, what seem like wives, as would be the case.”
“So your brothers are roaming Seattle, doing the same thing as you right now?”
Gregor gave a curt laugh. “Not exactly. I’m a bit more proactive than them in this matter.”
“Why don’t you just find a real girlfriend?” Kara shrugged, tucking some of that dark hair behind her ear.
“I don’t want one,” he said.
“So what would you pay me? Provided I accepted this ridiculous offer.”
Gregor clenched and unclenched his fists inside his pockets. It had to be high enough to make her say yes. But not high enough to be a financial liability. “Five million for acting as my soulmate until the company is safe.”
She sighed, looking down at the floor. “Sorry. Not good enough.”
He swallowed. “What would be good enough?”
Kara gestured around her. “Add this theater on top.”
Gregor looked around them. “What? I can’t just…purchase the theater.”
“Yes, you can. It’s for sale right now. And I want it. Along with start-up costs and the first year’s operating expenses for my own drama school.”
Gregor studied her neutral face, trying to tease out some sort of direction. Had she planned this all along? Her confidence and surety told him she’d either been prepared for the pitch, which was impossible, or she was an extremely adept negotiator.
“How about this?” He paused, allowing the idea to finish formulating before speaking again. “Instead of purchasing the theater for you, I’ll buy the theater for myself and lease it to you for a dollar per year for the duration of our contract, with an option to buy me out at the end of that time.”
She crossed her arms, head tilted to the side. “This theater alone costs two million dollars. After your payout, I’d be left with just a couple mil for years of fake marriage. Not good enough.”
“Ten million, and the theater offer stands.” He reached out to her as she turned away, feeling a bit like they were back on stage doing the Romeo and Juliet mashup.
She paused, turning to look at him over her shoulder. “I need to think about it.”
“Of course. Please.” Wise of you, from a business standpoint, not to shake on it now. Even though he was desperate to shake on it and rid himself of this horrible wife-hunting task. “Take your time.”
“I’ll sleep on it and let you know tomorrow.” She dug into her back pocket and produced her phone. “So, what’s your number?”
He rattled off the number and then added hers into his own phone. Once that was done, he felt like he’d at least accomplished something. If only getting a pretty girl’s number, which in his book, was usually the sign of a good day.
But this pretty girl had a lot hanging on her.
“Well. I guess we’ll talk soon.” Kara offered a stiff smile, and then brushed past him, heading for her things in the front row.
“I trust you won’t share this offer with anyone,” Gregor said quickly as she walked toward the door. “This is a sensitive issue, and I don’t want the media interfering before we’ve come to an agreement.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” she said, flashing him a sweet smile that made him grin in return. Dammit, the woman was skilled. Almost as skilled as he was.
And that would work out perfectly.
As long as she says yes.
3
Kara tossed and turned in bed that night for what felt like hours. She’d never had so much to mull over, not even in the throes of grant applications and launching—and losing—her long-held dream. Because now, she had a chance to realize her dream after all.
It’s just that it now had a million tiny strings attached.
Thoughts scraped together in her head like train wheels screeching over tracks. How was she supposed to find a foothold in this mess? Every few minutes she flipflopped completely as to what seemed like the best move. Her immediate reaction, though she had squashed it at the time, had been to shriek like a teenybopper and throw her arms around Gregor’s neck. But that wouldn’t look good for negotiating.
Once she’d gotten home, her sanity checked her excitement. She’d Googled the hell out of him, searching for police reports, rumors, and red flags. Beyond the normal playboy womanizing he was known for, she’d found nothing alarming. Still, the reserved side of her told her to stay far, far away from this devilishly handsome man. What good could come of these secret deals? It was like selling an organ on the black market with only the assurance that, “You’ll get your money, don’t worry.” Now she wanted to agree to sell her heart?
That’s what this is. Selling your heart for cash.
She rolled her eyes in the dark bedroom, flopping onto her back. Even that was a bit much for her, the recovering hopeless romantic. But still, there was a kernel of truth buried in there. Posing as a woman in love. Could it be a forfeiture of finding actual love? What if the act meant she’d miss her chance at the real thing?
Kara wasn’t dumb or hopeless by any means, just scarred and cautious. Her last serious relationship had essentially amounted to a fakery as well, though she’d been the only one not in on the ruse. Cody, her first love and the boy she’d lost her virginity to, had played along by any means necessary just to get her to open her legs. And when the truth came tumbling out, that he’d taken the relationship to I love you because it was the only way she’d sleep with him, her heartbreak had very nearly shattered her.
Men could be pigs. She had learned the hard way.
At least this one is up front about what he wants. That, at least, she could respect. She bunched her pillow beneath her head, toying with what it might feel like to be seen as the starry-eyed lover to a celebrity. If Gregor, in his position, was forced to find a fake wife, then how many other people in Hollywood and beyond were putting up a similar ruse? This felt like lifting the veil. Like finding out her favorite screenwriter was actually a group of authors working under a fictitious name, or like the shuddering realization that the “natural flavors” listed on food labels really weren’t natural at all.
And maybe there would be consequences for participating in something like that. Maybe this was her call to take the moral high road. Do the ethical thing. Tell the sexy celebrity “no,” that he should go find his fake pussy somewhere else.
Kara huffed, rolling onto her other side. She just couldn’t get comfortable tonight. No matter what she did, the indecision weighed on her like shackles. Just decide something and get it over with.
She sat up in bed, staring at the soft blue light pulsing from her printer in the corner. “I won’t do it.”
There, she’d said it out loud. But it didn’t feel quite right.
Remember how bad it felt to be in a fake relationship the first time? Maybe she needed to focus on this, the personal aspect. Quit thinking about the fact that she had an actual way to obtain the one thing she’d been working toward. She’d do well to remember that the niggling in her gut was probably right. Being an imposter at this level was just…wrong.
She sighed, tossing the covers off. Sleep wouldn’t come. That much was clear. She snatched her tablet off the desk and slumped onto the floor next to her bed, tur
ning the device on. Mindless scrolling was in order. Maybe that would help her zone out enough to actually accomplish the sleep portion of sleeping on it.
She gravitated toward her photo album, getting lost in drama pictures from her five years as a teacher. Kara had graduated college a bit early, at only twenty-one, and this school year marked her fifth anniversary of teaching. In some ways, it felt as if she’d been doing this forever…and then some days she felt newer than she had on her first day.
Kara had been fortunate enough to cross plenty of gifted students’ paths. She grinned as she swiped through the final rehearsal pictures for Into the Woods, the spring production from her first year on the job. That was the year she’d met Cassie, who had been a senior at the time and felt more like a friend than a student. Cassie’s skill was off the charts, but when it came time for college applications, she’d been denied entry into the drama program of her choice at a California university. Cassie picked being a lawyer instead—the safe path recommended by her parents.
But maybe she would have gotten in if you could have helped her prepare for the duration of her high school career. If you could give the dedicated attention you’re planning for the drama school.
Kara nibbled at her lip, scrolling through more pictures. Last time they’d talked, Cassie was miserable finishing up her prelaw degree. A lifetime of eighty-hour weeks awaited her. Nothing beautiful or fulfilling, as she’d hoped.
Isn’t that what this is about? Giving people the chance to actually pursue what they love?
Kara stared over the top of her tablet into the darkness of the bedroom, the edges of her vision growing blurry. This was what she loved. Affecting students. Aligning passions. Achieving goals.
The Beaumont Brothers: The Complete Series Page 2
