Façade: A Billionaire Single Dad Romance

by J. J. Bella

  “A vodka sour, please,” she said.

  “Very good,” the waiter.

  He returned moments later with their drinks, and Peter raised his glass for a toast as the waiter departed.

  “To what are we toasting?” asked Molly.

  “To…fake marriages,” said Peter with a smile.

  Molly chuckled brightly. “How about…to Winnie’s new friends.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” said Peter as the two of them tapped the rims of their glass with a clear clink.

  The two met eyes over their drinks as they sipped.

  “Listen, I want to make it very clear how grateful I am for you taking part in this…arrangement with me. It’s very unusual, I know, but it’s really helping me out of this bind.”

  “Of course,” said Molly. “Just as long as the check clears.”

  Then it was her turn to flash a knowing smile and a wink.

  “I have to watch out for you,” he said, sitting back and crossing his legs.

  “That would be a wise move,” Molly replied with a smirk.

  “I know this is a lot to deal with, but I hope I can make it easier for you in any way I can.”

  “It’s been manageable so far,” said Molly. “And Winnie’s a great kid.”

  “That’s been a wonderful side-benefit of this whole situation,” he said. “She’s been very withdrawn over the last few years; it pains me to see a girl like her feel so unsure of herself.”

  “She’s been like this since your wife left?” asked Molly.

  “…Yes,” said Peter. “She was always a ray of sunshine, but ever since then, she’s been very difficult to deal with at times. Let’s just say you’re not the first babysitter I’ve hired to look after her.”

  “Well, I’m glad things are working out, both with Winnie and with, um,” Molly pointed to the ring on her finger. “This.”

  “I agree; so far, so good.”

  At that moment, a man stepped out onto the terrace, a short, heavy-set man in a well-tailored, dark suit.

  “Mr. Randall,” said the man, approaching the table with a warm expression on his face.

  “Lucian, please, call me Peter; I’ve only been coming here for the last half-decade,” said Peter, rising and shaking the man’s hand.

  Peter turned to Molly.

  “Molly, this is Lucian Dupree, the owner.”

  “And who is this lovely young woman?” he asked, taking Molly’s had and moving in for a polite peck on the check.

  “This is Molly Brimley, my fiancée.”

  Lucian’s eyes lit up.

  “What a pleasure to meet you,” he said. “You’ve done well, Peter; she’s a real beauty.”

  “Thank you,” said Peter. “She’s a wonderful woman.”

  “And, if I may say so, it warms my heart to see you finally moving on after Amanda; what a tragedy for all of us that was.”

  “Ah, well, that’s all in the past,” said Peter, Molly getting the distinct impression that he wanted to change the subject.

  Tragedy? thought Molly.

  “Of course, of course,” said Lucian. “Well, Molly, I’m looking forward to seeing you here over the coming years.”

  “Thank you,” said Molly.

  “I’m going to have the chef prepare something special for you both; I hope you like it,” said Lucian.

  “I’m sure we will,” said Peter.

  With that, Lucian departed.

  Molly’s suspicion that there was more going on with Peter’s ex-wife than he was letting on was only growing. But she was sure that if it had anything to do with Molly, Peter would tell her in time.

  “How’re things going with the app?” asked Molly, eager to change the subject.

  “The app?” asked Peter. “Oh, about as well as I could be hoping. I have a meeting with the investor soon, and hopefully, he’ll be on board for funding.”

  “And it’s an interior design app?”

  “That’s right,” said Peter. “Something that you’re probably interested in, now that I think about it.”

  “Yeah, I definitely am,” said Molly.

  “Well, like I said, it’s something that allows you to go through various pieces of furniture, artwork, paint colors, things like that, and you select what you like. After a time, it builds a database of your tastes. Then, you take a picture of the space you’re looking to decorate, and the app puts together a package based upon your selections, as well as a mock-up that you can use for reference.”

  “Sounds great,” said Molly, very interested.

  “I think so, too. And it also pairs you with interior design firms, so you can have them come by and take a look at your place, maybe make some suggestions based on what you’ve chosen.”

  “That’s an amazing idea,” said Molly. “I love the idea of the designer having a database of the client’s tastes. I’ve worked with clients before, back when I was in school, and they tend to have the vaguest ideas of what they want. With this, you can just reference what they’ve selected.”

  “That’s exactly what I have in mind. So, you can work with a designer if you want to redo a whole room, or if you’re just looking to buy, say, a piece of art for the bathroom, you can easily do that and have it shipped to your home.”

  Molly’s thoughts went back to Peter’s place, a home that was in desperate need of a makeover.

  “Have you tried this on your place?”

  Peter’s eyes narrowed and a playful smirk crossed his lips.

  “I know, I know; the place is beyond overdue for a facelift. You’re not the first person to tell me that, by the way.”

  “Well, there’s an easy way to solve that problem,” said Molly.

  “Well, when you’re busy, time just flies by. Then you look around and see that your hip living room is now as passé as it gets. That’s why I’m using this app to redesign it. Here,”

  He slipped his phone out of his pocket and made a few swipes before handing it to Molly.

  “That’s what it came up with.”

  Molly looked over the design, and it struck her right away as completely wrong.

  “I don’t like it,” said Molly.

  “Let me never accuse you of being dishonest,” said Peter.

  Molly blushed a bit, realizing how blunt she was being about Peter’s app. But he was as unflappable as always.

  “What’s wrong with it,” he asked. “I’m always looking to send along tips how it can be improved.”

  “It’s…too old-fashioned,” she said, swiping through the pictures. “It’s stuffy. Someone like you needs a design that’s modern, but also timeless. This just makes me think of some retired old man’s study that he doesn’t let his grandkids into.”

  Peter chuckled. “OK, fair enough.”

  Then he looked away for a brief moment, as if thinking something over.

  “How about this: you do the redesign for my living room. Take a look at it, put together some ideas of what you’d do for it, and if I like it, I’ll let you work on this app with me, and pay you for the trouble; maybe there can even be a full-time position for you in it if this thing gets the funding I think it needs.”

  Molly’s eyes lit up at this prospect.

  “Deal,” she said, extending her hand towards Peter.

  “Deal.”

  10

  Their meal came, and it was as delicious as the owner promised them. Along with the food, Molly and Peter split a bottle of a delicious Malbec, and before she knew it, Molly’s head was swirling with a sweet, blissful intoxication. And the conversation flowed just as easily as the wine. Peter asked Molly more about herself, and the soft buzz of the drinks brought down the barriers that would normally prevent her from sharing details such as that. And she found her tongue loosening, talking at length of her dream of opening her own design studio and becoming one of the most well-known interior decorators in the city. And every time she checked herself, feeling that she was taking up too much time with her prattling, sh
e’d look across the table to see Peter sitting back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, his glass of wine in his hand, a look of unbridled interest on his face. It appeared to Molly that he just enjoyed listening to her talk.

  But the openness didn’t go both ways. Molly broke up her monologuing from time to time, offering the baton of conversation to Peter, but he didn’t seem to be interested in discussing himself. And any time he would, it was in a humble, unassuming way. She did find out that he graduated from UC Berkeley with a degree in history before heading to Cambridge to get his MBA at Harvard Business School. But all of this information was delivered with the tone of him recounting what he bought last at the grocery store; talking about himself just didn’t seem to be in Peter’s character.

  “Let me show you something,” he said, just as the waiter brought by their after-dinner cocktails.

  He stood up from the table, his drink in hand, and beckoned Molly to follow him. They moved through the dining room floor, Peter gesturing to Lucian as they did, Lucian giving him a knowing nod. They returned to the elevator bank and once inside, Peter pressed the button labeled “R.”

  “Where are we going?” asked Molly.

  “Just a little ways up,” said Peter.

  The alcohol slithering through Molly’s body, her eyes fell on Peter as he stood leaning against the wall of the elevator, his cocktail cradled in his hand, his eyes narrow, as though scheming, a stray strand of his golden blond hair loose and draped across his forehead.

  Her presence of mind returning, Molly shook these thoughts out of her head. That she was extremely attracted to Peter was no epiphany for her, but she didn’t want to risk indulging in these thoughts; the last thing she needed was to make a drunken move at her boss only for him to reject her in shock.

  The elevator emitted a ding, the doors opened to the roof of the building. If the view from the terrace was impressive, what she was seeing now was a whole new level of incredible. The city was a brilliant panorama around them, and being alone, the only sound was the gentle howl of the wind, punctuated with the occasional honking horn from the traffic below that carried upwards.

  “This is amazing,” said Molly, walking out onto the roof, the sky above twinkling with stars.

  “The view below isn’t bad, but in my opinion, nothing beats being right on top.”

  Molly walked over to the railing, setting down her drink on the ground by her feet and looking down, the crisscross of the orange white streets below swirling below from her height.

  “It almost makes me dizzy,” said Molly, picking up her drink.

  “Anything like this in Salt Lake?” asked Peter with a smile.

  “No way,” said Molly, her lips now fully loose. “Nothing like this.”

  Molly turned to face the city once again, Peter taking a place next to her. Looking down where he stood, she noticed that he was very close to her, the fabric of his tuxedo jacket brushing against the bare skin of his arm. She looked up at him, and he was looking off into the distance and taking a sip from his drink.

  Does he know how close he’s standing? wondered Molly. Is this intentional?

  But whether he was or not, the way she felt around him was incredible. There was a heat between their bodies that was palpable, and Molly couldn’t help but wonder if Peter felt it too.

  “So, Mr. Randall,” said Molly, turning towards Peter. “Why is it that a man like you, who could have any woman in this city if he wanted to, has to fake being engaged? I’d think that there’d be women lining up to be wearing this ring, and you wouldn’t have to be paying them to pretend.”

  Peter turned towards Molly, their bodies only inches away.

  “I’m…just not one for commitment. I’ve dated here and there, sure, but nothing serious.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Hard to say,” he said, looking down at Molly, his blue eyes so intense that it took all of Molly’s strength to not turn away from them. “I suppose I just…never found the right…girl…”

  His voice trailed off as he looked into Molly’s eyes. She felt as though she might wilt before him. But before she could consider the matter, Peter leaned towards her, taking her chin in the crook of his finger and tilting her head up towards his. Then, before Molly could think about what was happening, he kissed her.

  The moment his lips touched hers, a surge of heat rushed through Molly’s body, her limbs filling with a sweet heat, as though his kiss set her aglow. Her arms were at her sides; she didn’t know what to do with them, and furthermore, she was frozen with heat and passion from the simple sensation of his lips placed on hers.

  Gaining a moment of presence of mind, Molly set her drink on the railing and put her hands on Peter’s sides, his body hard and taut, even beneath his tuxedo. Peter did the same, taking his lips from Molly’s only long enough to get rid of his drink before turning his attention back to her. This time, however, he kissed her harder, and Molly sensed that he felt the same passion. He set his hands on the soft curves of her hips, moving them up and along her body. Molly loved the feeling of his strong hands on her body, and wanted nothing more than to be in his embrace.

  They continued to kiss, their chaste, close-mouth kisses blossoming into deeper, sensual making out. Molly shivered with pleasure whenever Peter’s tongue slipped over and past her lips. She allowed herself to fall into his kiss, to give herself over to him more and more by the second.

  But just as she was ready to surrender to his embrace, Peter pulled away.

  “I think we should get out of here,” he said.

  She nodded, knowing exactly what he meant.

  They returned to the elevator, and hardly able to keep their hands off of one another, they set upon each other as soon as the doors slid shut. When they opened, Molly retrieved their things from the table while Peter had the restaurant call a cab. Back in the elevator, Peter pounced on Molly, kissing her hard and deep. Molly kissed him back with wild abandon, her hands moving all over his body. She wanted nothing more than to rip him out of his tuxedo, but right at the moment that things might’ve escalated, the elevator doors opened to the elegant party that was occurring in the building lobby.

  Molly and Peter rushed through the lobby, moving through the throngs of wealthy party-goers. They arrived outside, and Peter let the valet know that he would be leaving his car overnight. A moment later, the taxi pulled up, and the two of them hurried into the backseat.

  Right as the doors to the taxi shut, they began again, kissing and fondling one another over their clothes as the car drove them to Peter’s house.

  They arrived in what seemed like the blink of an eye, and within seconds they were back home. Peter held up a finger as they walked in, and sure enough, the pitter-pattering of little feet on the stairs grew louder and louder.

  “Daddy, Daddy!” cried Winnie as she ran down the stairs, Claude following soon after. “I had so much fun with Mr. Claude today! We painted pictures, and we played dress-up, and we watched a movie, and we-“

  Molly could see that it took all of two seconds for Claude to realize what was going on with her and Peter.

  “Hey, Win,” said Claude, squatting down to her level. “Why don’t we go grab some ice cream at Mitchell’s?”

  “Yeah! Ice cream!” cried Winnie, losing track of what she’d been talking about. “Daddy, do you and Molly want to come?”

  “Uh, Daddy and Molly have some business to talk about; boring adult stuff. You and Claude have fun; have an extra scoop for me, princess.”

  “Fine,” said Winnie, turning to Claude. “Let’s go, let’s go!”

  “Hold your horses, missy,” said Claude, walking with her to the front door.

  Molly mouthed thank you to Claude as he walked past, and he responded with nothing more than a sly wink.

  “Upstairs?” said Peter, as soon as the door shut.

  “Upstairs.”

  The two of them made rushed up the stairs, heading to Peter’s bedroom. He opened the do
or, revealing a simply appointed master bedroom of basic furniture and otherwise plain décor.

  “Let me guess, you want to redo this room too,” said Peter.

  “Um, let’s talk about that later,” said Molly, turning back to him.

  Peter pushed the door shut and pulled Molly close, the two of them resuming their wild, passionate kissing. He moved his hands to Molly’s shoulders, pulling down the blue straps of her dress, leaving her slim, pale shoulders bare.

  Molly went to work on Peter’s clothes, slipping off his tuxedo jacket and working the buttons of his shirt as fast as her fingers would allow. Once all were undone, she yanked the shirt untucked from his pants and pulled it back and off his body.

  Taking a long look at his body as Peter kissed his way down to her neck, Molly had to force herself to not breathe in a sharp gasp. His body was incredible. Peter’s pecs were rock-hard and shaped perfectly, his shoulders were as broad and defined as she imagined they would be, and his stomach was an immaculately toned six-pack upon which there was not a single drop of fat. She took in his glorious upper-body with her eyes and hands, her fingertips caressing every taut angle, and feeling herself grow more aroused the longer she did.

  Peter gave Molly’s dress another tug downwards, bringing it to her navel, her pert breasts still hidden behind her white, lacey bra. He then set upon the fastening of her bra, undoing the hooks, her breast tumbling free as he pulled the bra from her body. Molly could see that her small, pink nipples were hard from arousal, and Peter moved his attention down to them, kissing and licking Molly’s breasts, the combination of his tongue and hot breath driving her wild. She ran his hands through his thick, blond hair, pulling it loose and free from the slicked-back style that it was previously in.

  He looked up at her from his position near her breasts, his eyes narrow with hunger, his gorgeous hair now down, framing his face. Peter looked to Molly like a wild, hungry animal, and she was more than willing to give him his meal.

  Molly shimmied out of her dress as he kissed her body, the gasps she had been suppressing now slipping out of her mouth as though; she felt she was losing control of her body, but in a way that she was more than eager to allow. Now she stood wearing nothing but her high heels and her matching thong, the air of the bedroom cool on her newly exposed flesh.