Fake Wife Needed (A Bad Boy Romance)

by Mia Carson

“Your full name would be a good start, I think,” he told her. “What’s your middle name?”

  Her hands tightened on her menu. “Do you really need to know that?”

  “Oh, come on, it can’t be any worse than having Valentine as your last name.”

  “I’ll bet you it is,” she smirked, that sly grin creeping back onto her face so his gut twisted and hands itched to cup her face so he could kiss her thoroughly. Her lips parted and the smile fell, her cheeks reddening under the intensity of his gaze.

  He leaned back and rested his palms flat on the table. “So? What is it?” he asked, the words rough on his tongue.

  She mumbled, but he didn’t catch it and asked her to repeat. “I said, Graceland Presley Summers.”

  Chase tugged at his ear and swallowed the laugh he wanted to let loose as she buried her face behind her menu. “I’m sorry, but who gave you that name?” he asked, a chuckle escaping his mouth despite his best efforts.

  “A drunk dad with an Elvis obsession,” she said tightly. “Done laughing over there, Loki?”

  “Loki?” he asked to clarify. “Where did that come from?”

  She nodded at his coin. “Well, there’s that, and then you look like a freaking viking,” she said, half laughing.

  He tucked the coin beneath his shirt, wondering what else she might have picked up on so easily. “Get that from my dad’s side,” he told her. “They’re all tall like me.”

  “And muscular,” she added, and he smirked when her cheeks flushed. “Yeah, so maybe we should order and change the subject from names to something else?”

  Chase settled his tall frame back in his chair and perused the menu, pleased she found him attractive. His ego inflated as it always did around women when they flirted with him, but it was never the flirting he had issues with. The idea of going further and letting someone in, however, always tied him up in knots and had him stumbling over his feet like a nervous twit from high school, until all that was left was anger at himself for being such a fool.

  They ordered. After the food was delivered to their table, Graceland—he inwardly smiled thinking of her full name—ate as if she hadn’t eaten all morning and maybe the night before. When she caught him watching, she quickly pushed her empty plate aside, avoiding his gaze. She told him her birthday and a little more about her acting career, and he filled her in on the family business. There wasn’t time for her to know all the ins and outs, but he provided enough to give her something to chat about if asked outright. When he brought up his latest project, she beamed and leaned closer.

  “I’m excited for that, by the way. Getting to perform in an updated and renovated theater,” she said in a rush, clasping her hands. “Might feel like I’m actually getting somewhere with my life.”

  “I watched you last night. You were damn good,” he reminded her. “Why do you stay here?”

  All the blazing excitement in her eyes faded in a shot, and she sat back in her chair, fiddling with her napkin. “I think that falls under the category of parts of our lives we don’t talk about.”

  Chase wanted to push as she had pushed him earlier. Clearly, she wanted to move up and out of the small theater district, and he already knew she wasn’t used to his lifestyle. Her clothes were faded and older, her makeup simple, and her only jewelry were the silver studs in her ears and nose. Between those few small details and how she asked very quickly last night how much he’d pay her, Chase wondered what type of financial situation she was in.

  She’d risk spending a weekend with a man she never met before for twenty thousand dollars. That told him a lot about her financial situation.

  “You like Seattle that much?” he asked, fishing for answers.

  Her hand tightened around the napkin, and she wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Sure, love it here. Nowhere better than Seattle,” she quipped. “Anything else I need to know about you, Valentine?”

  “Don’t ever call me Valentine,” he ordered with a shake of his head. “I hate being called that.”

  “Fine, Loki it is,” she shot back and sipped her iced tea.

  Chase wasn’t sure what to think of the woman who changed so rapidly from one mood to the other across the table. Which one was the real Graceland? He pulled out the contract again and signed before sliding it across the table to her. He told her he’d have a copy made up by Friday when he saw her again and that she should only pack toiletries.

  “I need clothes, Loki,” she said, confused.

  “I know, but you’re going to be around people like me all weekend—like the women from my office,” he informed her and pulled out his wallet. “Consider this a bonus.” After he counted out a thousand in hundreds, he handed her the bills, but Graceland didn’t take it. “Grace, its fine. This is part of the job.”

  Slowly, she reached out and took the money. “You want me to go shopping?”

  “Yes, why? Don’t tell me you’re the one woman in the world who doesn’t like to spend her fiancé’s money,” he teased.

  “No, I just… thanks,” she finished lamely and tucked it away in her purse. “I don’t even know where to go to find clothes like that.”

  “Clothes, jewelry, maybe a purse or two,” he said. “Dexter will drive you, don’t worry. I have to get back to the office, but he’ll be yours for the rest of the afternoon.”

  A smile crossed her lips as they stood to walk to the café door. “Thank you, Chase, really, for the job this weekend,” she told him. “It’s going to be added to my résumé, that’s for damn sure.”

  “I don’t think you realize how much you’re helping me,” he told her. “Go ahead with Dexter. I’ll take a cab back to the office.”

  Dexter stepped around to the back and opened the door for her. Chase told him to take the lady shopping and ensure she had a good afternoon of it before returning her to her apartment that evening. He stepped back onto the sidewalk and saw Graceland’s excited face before he said he would see her again soon.

  “Oh, wait,” he called and asked her for her cell. She handed it over, and he punched in his personal number. “In case you have any more questions.”

  “Right, questions about acting like your fiancée,” she said and fluttered her hand by her face. “My, what a lucky woman I am to be hitched to Loki.”

  Dexter closed the door and told Chase she was in good hands before he pulled away from the curb. Chase stayed behind, watching until the limo disappeared around a turn. His chest tight, he shoved his hands deep in his pockets and blew out a harsh breath. When his feet finally moved, he repeated to himself over and over again this was a business deal, nothing more. He didn’t need to worry about it going any further, but that woman twisted him up inside. Annoyed him one second and filled him with curiosity the next.

  And her body. He couldn’t get over the way her hips swayed when she moved, how her ass looked so touchable when she wore heels. He had, of course, mentioned very briefly there was no need for her to do anything physical with him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to get her in his bed. Spending a night in each other’s arms would make the cruise more enjoyable for him, at least, and he knew the way all the other women acted with him in bed. She would have a good time of it, too. Maybe then, it’d get this lust for her out of his system and he could move on.

  Come Friday, he’d be focused on ensuring his parents believed his story and seeing how many yoga positions Graceland could teach him in two nights.

  Grace dropped the bags on the floor of the apartment and giggled as Jimmy asked her where the hell she’d been and how many stores she just robbed.

  “Damn, look at these dresses,” he said, pulling out a long red one with slits up the sides and a dip in the back. “This is butter. Where did you get all of this?”

  “Bonus for taking the job,” she said, shoving a bag with matching jewelry towards him.

  “You sure he’s not gay?” Jimmy asked longingly.

  “Not as far as I can tell,” Grace said when someone pounded on their fr
ont door.

  She froze, her hand shaking. Jimmy shook his head and they waited, but the person knocked louder and yelled, a booted foot bashing against the bottom of the door. It shuddered in the frame, and Jimmy stalked to it, yelling to hang on a second. His hand wrapped around the baseball bat nearby, and he told Grace to stay out of sight and shove the bags away with her. She did so quickly, her blood running cold, and once all was tucked away, Jimmy opened the door.

  “Jimmy, my boy, I knew someone was home,” an all too familiar voice called out, and Grace bit her lip on a cry of panic.

  “Mickey. What do you want?” Jimmy asked tightly.

  “What I always want when I stop by. Where is she?”

  “Not home, so get lost.”

  Grace held her breath and waited for Mickey to leave, but Jimmy cursed and the other man’s booted feet stomped into the apartment. She pressed herself further into the bedroom, but it was too late to close the door without him seeing.

  “Now, Jimmy, you know how much I hate when you lie to me,” Mickey crooned. “I know she’s here. Saw her come home.”

  “You have guys watching our place?” Jimmy accused angrily.

  “When I think someone’s not going to pay up, yes, I do,” Mickey snapped, all pleasantness gone. “Grace! Where’s my lovely girl at? Come out and talk to me. I won’t bite, at least not yet.”

  The last thing she wanted to do was step out there to face him, but she didn’t want Jimmy to take a hit for her again. Taking a shuddering breath to steady her nerves, she stepped out of the bedroom and glared as fiercely as she could at the loan shark.

  “Mickey, you could just call, you know,” she snapped.

  He leered as he sauntered over and wrapped her in a tight hug until she could barely breathe. “Grace, my favorite client.”

  “I’m not your client! Get off of me,” she yelled and shoved herself back. Jimmy moved to her side, the bat in hand just in case. “You’re here because of my mom, not me.”

  “Yeah, well, I’d rather deal with you. At least you’re not drunk when we talk.”

  Not anymore, she thought, craving a shot in that moment. These days, she settled for wine, only two glasses at most. “I don’t have the money. My boss didn’t pay me.”

  “Well, dollface, that’s not my problem. You said you’d have money this week, and you’re already behind again,” Mickey told her. “I’ve been patient with you, but my patience is wearing thin.”

  Grace took a step away from the murderous glint in his eyes. “Just wait, alright? I’ll have the money by Monday. Please, just wait until then.”

  Mickey shoved his jacket aside, flashing the revolver tucked in his belt. Grace gulped, silently praying he’d listen. “Proof that you’ll have it? I don’t believe your word anymore.”

  She hurried to her purse and pulled out the unsigned contract stating the amount. Mickey perused it quickly, nodding when he saw the amount, but when he flipped it back and read the whole front, his gaze darkened and his eyes did a slow look at her body.

  “Well, now, I didn’t think you were the kind of gal who turned into an escort.”

  “I’m not,” she said heatedly. “There’s no sex involved.”

  “And this Chase Valentine knows that, does he?”

  “Of course he does,” she said, even though, in the back of her mind, the thought of having sex with Chase didn’t sound unpleasant.

  Mickey nodded, but the look on his face said he didn’t believe her. “If you change your mind on that, let me know. We could always use a beauty like you in other aspects of the family business.” He handed the contract back. “Fine then, I’ll expect my payment by Monday. The full twenty thousand. It’ll cover almost all the debt.”

  Jimmy cursed, and Grace’s heart sank. “It should cover all of it and then some.”

  “You should talk to your mother more,” Mickey said and winked. “I’ll be seeing you both.”

  He walked out, and Jimmy locked the door quickly before he set down the baseball bat. Grace hadn’t moved and clutched the contract in her hands like a life preserver. It wasn’t going to save her life. It wasn’t going to get her out of this shitty life she was in because of her mom. What had the woman done now? They’d been close to paying off her gambling debt, and she was building it right back up again.

  “I’m never going to get away from him,” she whispered as the reality sunk in.

  But Jimmy shook his head and moved to the desk. “No, I’m writing you a check for everything I have to at least get him off your back. It’s not a lot, but you know even twenty thousand won’t be enough.”

  “No, that’s all you have,” she argued and rushed to stop him. “I’ll figure something out, Jimmy. I just need time, and this payout will hold him off for a while.”

  Jimmy glared but set his checkbook down. “Fine, but you call your mom and you tell her you’re done, Grace. I mean it this time. She’s going to get you killed.”

  Grace pictured the revolver in Mickey’s belt and gulped. At least she’d get away for the weekend, and by the time she came back, she’d have a plan to get rid of Mickey and her mom’s problems for good.

  After Jimmy went to bed, Grace picked up her cell and did something she usually never did: called her mom to ask what the hell was going on with the loan. When she finally answered, slurring her words, Grace let her have it.

  “Mom, what the hell are you doing to me?” she snapped, pacing around her bedroom. “Mickey was just here again demanding more money! What did you do?”

  “That’s how you speak to your mother?!” she yelled, and Grace heard a man’s voice in the background. Her voice sweetened. “I never get to talk to you anymore, sweetie.”

  Grace pinched the bridge of her nose and scrunched her eyes shut on the headache forming. “Do not call me sweetie. You’re going to get me killed! That bastard wants over twenty thousand, Mom. Why do you keep borrowing money from him?”

  “I’m not,” she insisted hotly. “It’s the same debt. I just can’t get the cash together. Only about forty thousand now.”

  “The same debt… Mom, it’s been months! Forty thousand?!” she shrieked when the number clicked. “Mom! It was down to fifteen! How the hell did it get so high again? Stop gambling it away, for God’s sake!”

  “I had to help out a few friends.”

  Grace bit her tongue on the stream of curses she wanted to throw at the woman who, sadly, had given birth to her. “Mom, I’m only going to ask you this once. Please do not ruin my life the way Dad did yours. Please, I’m begging you, help me get all this shit paid off so we can both get on with our lives,” she pleaded quietly with her mom. “Please, I can’t keep doing this for you.”

  Her mom sighed heavily, and for a second, Grace thought she’d finally gotten through to her. But her mom said she was a grown woman and didn’t need her daughter telling her what to do. There was a loud click and Grace yelled, chucking her cell at her bed.

  If she couldn’t make this weekend work and get the twenty thousand, and if her mom couldn’t get her shit together, it wouldn’t matter how hard Grace worked. She’d never get out of this life. She’d never be able to make something of herself.

  3

  On the afternoon of the cruise, Chase pulled out his cell to let Grace know they were just around the corner. She’d texted him the night before, asking a few last minute questions about when and where they’d met in case someone asked about those details. Chase told her to feel free to come up with the story and fill him in before they set out on the cruise. Once upon a time, he’d been more of a romantic, but after what his ex had done to him, he lost all interest in things like anniversaries and first dates.

  The story she came up with was simple enough and close to the truth. He met her after a play she’d starred in at the theater she owned. She started to go into the details, but he stopped her, knowing the only one who would ask was his mom, and she’d pry those little facts from Grace, not him. “Girl talk” was what she c
alled it.

  The limo came to a stop a few minutes later, and Chase frowned, staring up at the decrepit apartment building. “This is where she lives?” he asked Dexter.

  “Yes, sir,” Dexter said, just as concerned as he was. “Thought the same thing yesterday when I dropped her off. The dad in me almost refused to let her go in there alone, but she said her roommate looked after her well enough.”

  “I’m sure,” Chase said, but he hated the thought of Grace living in a place that looked like it housed drug dealers and worse. He stepped out, telling Dexter he could wait, and a minute later, Grace rushed out the front door.

  She was done up in what he assumed were some of the clothes she’d bought, and Chase swore he was looking at a completely different woman. Her hair was piled on top of her head, the wild curls contained for the moment. Long, silver earrings dangled from her lobes, matching the studs in her ears and the necklace gracing her neck. The dress clinging to her hips was knee length with a low neck, and the deep blue brought out the amber in her eyes.

  “Does this work?” she asked as he took her small suitcase. “I wasn’t sure what you’d want me to wear for our first night.”

  Chase struggled to find words and nodded, tucking her suitcase in the trunk. His suit was tailored black. He was used to dressing like this. It was his life, but to see Grace in such fine clothes brought out another side to her he hadn’t seen yet.

  “Good, I was worried it wasn’t fancy enough.”

  “No, it’s perfect,” he insisted, grinning as he opened the limo door for her. “You remember everything?”

  “I think I can manage,” she assured him. “Like I told you, no different from memorizing lines. I’m just playing the part of the future Grace Valentine.”

  As she slid inside, Chase frowned, a weird feeling tugging in his stomach before he followed her inside and told Dexter they were ready to go. He filled her in more concerning the yacht and how the weekend would go with the catering and band. When she asked how big the yacht was, he laughed and told her big enough.