Billionaire's Fake Fiancé (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (Billionaires - Book #10)

by Claire Adams

  “I would love to go to Black Jack,” she said smiling up at me as she stepped forward and took my hand. “It’s been a while and I’ve got a taste for a good burger. Plus, Jack will appreciate the publicity, I’m sure.”

  “You’re on,” I grinned as I squeezed her hand, remembering our first meeting and wondering if she had plans to try and recreate the bathroom adventure that had been interrupted. It had been more than a week since she’d exercised her contractual options, and I had been wavering between feeling relieved not to have to deal with the complications it created and antsy because I couldn’t shake the fact that I wanted her more than ever.

  “What’s the second thing?” she asked in a husky voice as she pressed up against me.

  “I’m going to start interviewing for the GM position next week,” I said, deciding that it would be better to give her the news straight up rather than beat around the bush.

  “I see,” she said dropping my hand and backing up.

  “Don’t be mad; you know I have to do this,” I said.

  “I’m not mad,” she replied, failing to hide the fact that she was.

  “Payton, you knew I was going to have to conduct interviews,” I reminded her.

  “I know you do!” she shouted. “I know you have to interview people and make it look like you’re carefully considering your decision. I know! I know! I know!”

  “Hey, what’s going on?” I asked suddenly aware of the fact that her anger was out of proportion with what I was saying. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, dammit!” she shouted. “I wish you’d stop asking me that inane question! I’m fine.”

  “Well, you don’t seem fine to me,” I said defensively.

  “How would you feel if you did all the work I’m doing only to be told that you’re probably going to be replaced?” she grumbled.

  “You knew the deal when you started this,” I protested. “You can’t get mad at me now!”

  “I know,” she sighed looking away. When she looked back at me, I could see her eyes welling up.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, reaching out to stroke her arm.

  “I can’t talk about it,” she said, brushing my hand aside and moving away. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me,” I suggested.

  “I’m stuck and there’s no good way out,” she said, taking a deep breath and pulling herself up. “It’s my own doing, and I’ll figure it out myself.”

  “Okay, well, I’m here if you need to talk,” I said. “See you at home?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be there,” she nodded then turned back toward her desk without saying another word.

  I left the room wondering what it was she was grappling with as Finn’s warning gnawed at my thoughts. I quickly pushed it aside and headed back to my office to prep for the coming interviews.

  #

  Payton’s mood had considerably improved by the time we left for dinner on Friday night. I wasn’t sure why and I didn’t want to spoil the night by asking, so I didn’t bring up our earlier discussion, and neither did she.

  I held the door open as Payton smiled and walked into the familiar bar. ,She had dressed casually in a mini-skirt and t-shirt that hugged every one of her curves showing off her tan arms and legs. She looked young and carefree as she perched on a barstool and grinned at Jack.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the girl and her boyfriend,” Jack bellowed. “Welcome back, Sweetness! I’ve missed you.”

  “Missed you, too, you grumpy, old man,” Payton grinned back as she leaned across the bar and planted a quick kiss on his grizzled cheek. “Give me a beer and a shot, and one for my friend, too.”

  “Whatcha been up to, kiddo?” Jack asked, pointedly ignoring me. At first it raised my hackles, but when Payton reached down under the bar and squeezed my thigh, I knew that Jack’s protectiveness wasn’t something I needed to get upset about. Still, I listened closely to the conversation, wondering if I was missing something.

  “Just the usual,” she said, clinking her shot glass against mine and then tipping it back and downing the whiskey in a quick gulp. Her eyes watered and she laughed as she slammed the glass on the bar and hollered, “Another!”

  “Whoa, easy does it, Sweetness,” Jack warned as he glanced at me and slid a couple of menus toward us. “Aren’t you going to order some dinner?”

  “Oh my God, not two against one,” Payton sighed rolling her eyes dramatically. “I just wanted to come here and relax, not get lectured.”

  “No one is lecturing you, kiddo,” Jack said gruffly. “I tell everyone who comes in here to eat. It’s how I make my money.”

  “Oh bullshit,” Payton countered. “You make your money off of a 200% markup on house booze!”

  Jack started at her for a moment and then let loose a deep throated laugh as he flipped her shot glass and poured her another.

  “Damn right I do,” he laughed as he offered the bottle to me. I shook my head and then studied the menu.

  “I’ll take a burger, medium, with fries,” I said. I knew I was being a killjoy at Payton’s party, but there was something about her mood that told me I should be the one to stay at least moderately sober tonight. “What do you want, lady?”

  “Same,” she said, knocking back the second shot before slipping her hand into my lap a little more aggressively.

  “Payton,” I said removing her hand and leaning in close before I said, “What are you doing?”

  “I’m having fun,” she replied a little too loudly. “I thought you’d like that.”

  “Not like this,” I said shaking my head. I leaned back and watched as she drank her beer and avoided making eye contact with me.

  We stayed until Jack hollered last call, and then I helped a very drunk, but vocal Payton to the car. I could tell that she was wrestling with something big, but if she wasn’t going to tell me what it was, I wasn’t going to dig.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Payton

  Sunday dawned bright and beautiful, and I felt exponentially better than I had the day before when I’d stayed in bed sleeping off the hangover from Friday night. I knew I’d made an ass of myself at Black Jack and that I left Dax confused about what was going on, but I didn’t know how to talk to him about what I was feeling. He didn’t understand my deep connection to football or my family, and I didn’t trust that he could listen to what had happened between my mother and I without being extremely judgmental, so I put my walls up and went to find some coffee.

  “Feeling better this morning?” Dax asked as I stood at the kitchen counter making myself a cup of espresso.

  “Much better, thank you,” I said without turning around adding, “And thank you for Friday night. I’m sorry I ruined it.”

  “You didn’t,” he said. His voice was so soft that I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly. I turned and found him standing right behind me.

  “Oh! You scared me!” I gasped as I looked up at him and saw concern in his dark eyes. “You shouldn’t do that when I’m making hot coffee.”

  “Payton, what’s going on?” he asked. “Is there something I can help you with? You don’t have to be afraid to ask, you know. If I can help, I will.”

  “I know. Thank you,” I said, lowering my eyes so that he couldn’t see my shame and confusion. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me,” he said taking my hand and slipping his fingers under my chin so that he could lift my face. “I’m not an ogre.”

  “I never said you were,” I replied as I focused on his lips so that I wouldn’t have to see the worry in his eyes.

  “Then why won’t you talk to me? We started out so well,” he said before dryly adding, “Breakfast negotiations notwithstanding.”

  “It’s not that,” I said, forcing a smile so that he’d know that I, too, was trying. “It’s just that there are things you don’t understand about me. Family things. Sports things. I don’t know how to explain them so that you will.”

  “And I
will repeat myself,” he said. “Try me.”

  “How can you possibly understand when you don’t even like football!” I cried as I twisted away from him and moved down the counter. “I can’t explain my love for the game and my family’s team any more than I can explain the color blue. It’s a feeling I get when I watch a quarterback throw a perfect spiral pass or when a wide receiver tucks the ball into his midsection and breaks into a dead run for the goal. It’s the way the fans stay in their seats until the last play and then cheer for their team. How do I explain that to someone who just doesn’t give a damn?”

  “I do give a damn,” he said softly. “I just don’t have the same connection to it as you do.”

  “I know. For you, it’s an investment,” I said glumly. “For me, it’s a lifestyle. It’s my passion, Dax. I don’t know how to convey how much of a passion this is for me. It’s not just about status or money; those things are important, but when you get down to it, this is about the game.”

  He stood staring at me until the espresso machine began steaming, and then he turned and flipped the switch, letting the water flow while he grabbed the steel pitcher from the sink and poured some milk into it. He didn’t say a word as he focused on steaming the milk. When he was done, he poured the espresso shot into a mug and topped it with the milk, drawing a small heart in the foam. He handed me the mug and then turned and walked out of the kitchen.

  Several hours later, we entered the skybox at the Storm stadium and found Gram already sitting in one of the leather club chairs.

  “What took you two so long to get here?” she asked as she studied our faces. “And what’s wrong with you? You look like someone killed your dog.”

  “Hi, Gram,” Dax said bending down to kiss her cheek. “Glad to see you, too.”

  “Oh, stop it,” she scolded kissing, him and then gently patting his cheek. “You can’t fool me, kid. You never could.”

  “I know,” he nodded as he looked around and spied something that caught his attention. “I’ll be right back.”

  We watched him exit the skybox and then Gram patted the chair next to her and said, “Come sit down, Payton. We need to have a talk, you and me.”

  “Is everything okay?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, you tell me,” she said sternly. I could feel the weight of everything building up inside me, and I wanted so much to unburden myself, but I wasn’t sure I should tell Gram. I didn’t want her to reject me, too.

  “Dax and I…” I began and then a wave of emotions rolled through me and started the tears. “I don’t know what to do, Gram. I fought with my mother and she’s basically disowned me, and now Dax is upset because I can’t explain what’s happening, but he doesn’t understand football. He doesn’t even like it!”

  “Shhh, there, there,” Gram said as she pulled me to her and patted my head. “Honey, my grandson is one of the best men I’ve ever known, but sometimes he can be a real jackass. He’s afraid of what he doesn’t understand. Most people are, you know.”

  “But I want to share things with him,” I said, sitting up and wiping my eyes. “He says he wants to hear them, but I don’t think he does. If he knew what was going on between my mother and I, he’d flip out. And he doesn’t understand that the Bears aren’t just a team, they’re part of my blood.”

  “I know you think he can’t understand, but that’s not true, Payton,” Gram said. “David is a stubborn boy, but he’s got a good heart. Keep trying. He’ll get it one of these days.”

  I nodded knowing that Gram didn’t understand the whole situation between Dax and I, and I wasn’t about to try and explain our unconventional contract. She thought we were really in love, and I was starting to wonder whether there wasn’t a kernel of truth to that, but there was no way I was going to broach the subject with Dax while he was stubbornly interviewing GM prospects and I continued doing the job. If we were going to have that discussion, he’d have to meet me half way, and I didn’t see that happening, despite all of his offers to listen to my tale of woe.

  Dax wasn’t back by the kick off, so Gram and I cheered and shouted as the Storm tried their hardest to rise to the occasion and beat the Packers. It was a tough game, and the trainers carried more than a few of the players on both sides off after particularly hard hits. Gram and I winced as Johnny Riggs was sacked again and again.

  “Why the hell doesn’t the defense wake up and protect him?” Gram shouted as Riggs was taken down yet again. I watched as he lay on the ground for a moment, and then rolled over and took the hand of one of the Storm’s offense and pulled himself up to a standing position.

  “Gram, that doesn’t look good,” I murmured as I watched Riggs shake his head a few times trying to get his bearings. “I hope Nick pulls him and has the doctor look at him.”

  “That son of a bitch wouldn’t pull his own mother from a game if it meant losing the edge,” she spat with contempt. “I told David not to hire him. He’s a mean man with a small—”

  “Gram!” Dax said as he reentered the skybox. “You can’t say those things in front of other people!”

  “Why not?” Gram protested. “It’s not like Payton doesn’t think the same thing, right?”

  I grinned and raised my hands in surrender, letting Dax know I wasn’t going to contradict his own grandmother. He laughed and said, “Still, you can’t say that stuff about our team!”

  “Please,” Gram said waving him off. “Get me another Manhattan!”

  Dax brought her a drink and we watched as the Storm was beaten by the Green Bay Packers 28-0. It was a humiliating defeat coming off the two previous wins, but at least it was to the Packers, the legendary NFL champs. Still, the loss stung, and Gram was muttering under her breath as we exited the stadium.

  “You two come for dinner this week,” Gram called as she slid into the backseat of her waiting car and waved.

  On the ride home, Dax looked over and said, “Dinner at Gram’s this week, then?”

  “Can’t exactly say no to her, can we?” I smiled as I reached out and took his hand. He smiled and squeezed my fingers lightly as we sped back to the penthouse.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Dax

  On Tuesday night, Payton and I headed over to Gram’s for dinner and found that she’d invited a group of kids from the neighborhood to join us. Their varying ages made for a lively meal as the kids peppered us with questions about the Storm and the Bears, and Payton shared as much as she could about her football passion with the kids. As I watched her excitedly discussing the draft, I felt the doubt that Finn had planted in my mind being pushed back into the recesses of my brain. A woman this passionate about the game couldn’t be playing me for a fool, could she?

  After dinner, the kids all helped Gram and Payton clean up the kitchen before moving out to the porch where we sat drinking lemonade and eating the sugar cookies Gram had made that afternoon. I chuckled softly when I looked around and realized I was enjoying this evening despite the fact that the Storm had lost their last game and I hadn’t heard anything from Finn in days. And I was enjoying it even more because Gram and Payton were here sharing this with me.

  “You okay?” Payton whispered as she sat down next to me on the porch swing and took my hand.

  “Yeah, fine,” I smiled. “Just happy.”

  “Oh, well, that’s a switch!” she smiled as she leaned over and kissed my cheek. I wanted to ask her if she was doing this because we had an audience or if it was because she wanted to, but I didn’t want to call attention to us, so I chose the latter and leaned back as I listened to two of Gram’s kids arguing about whether it was better to work for yourself or for someone else.

  “There are benefits and drawbacks to everything,” Gram said, breaking into the heated debate. “You need to know the risks and benefits before you make choices, but you can’t spend your life second-guessing yourself, either. Research your options and then make a choice. And don’t be afraid to change directions if you find you’ve made the wron
g one!”

  “That’s excellent advice, Gram,” I said leaning forward. “I’m glad I followed it!”

  The kids broke into laughter followed by a lively discussion of who would be the next neighborhood billionaire as they hustled down the stairs and headed for home. A few of the kids’ mothers were standing on their porches yelling names and reminding their children that it was almost bedtime. The almost-teens protested, while the younger kids high-tailed it home in fear of being punished if they didn’t. Gram sat on the porch watching to make sure all the kids got home safely.

  “I’m glad you two could make it for dinner tonight,” she said smiling warmly as she noted our clasped hands. “It’s good for the kids, and for me.”

  “Thank you for inviting us, Gram,” Payton said. “Your cooking is unbeatable and the conversation tonight was far and away the best one I’ve had in ages!”

  “You’re really passionate about the game,” Gram said as she looked straight at me. “My late husband would have loved having you around, and not just because you’re a Halas.”

  “That’s good to know,” Payton laughed as she squeezed my hand. “I’m sure I would have enjoyed that conversation immensely.”

  “Mmm hmm,” Gram nodded as she looked off into the street. I waited for her to return, and after a few minutes, I noticed that her chin had dropped to her chest and she’d dozed off.

  “Don’t wake her yet,” Payton said as she leaned toward me and rested her head on my shoulder. I leaned back and put my arm around her and we sat there gently swinging back and forth listening to Gram’s quiet snores while the stars came out on Alcott Street.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Payton

  When we finally made it back to the penthouse, I could feel the change in Dax’s mood. He’d loosened up over dinner, and there was a softness around his edges I hadn’t seen before. I could feel the electricity between the two of us, and I couldn’t stop myself from running my hand down his arm to stop him from flipping on the living room lights as we walked through the door.