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Pretend I'm Yours: A Fake Marriage Romance

Page 42

by Ella Miles


  “He should be here soon,” he says, staring at his watch, as he sits behind the desk my father used to.

  I don’t think I could ever sit there. That’s Dad’s chair, not his.

  “Last time I spoke with him, he was just wrapping up a meeting.”

  I nod and drink my water faster. I don’t have much time then.

  “Granddad, I’ve been thinking. I, uh…how do I say this?” I start talking, but I have no idea what I’m saying. “I, um…I don’t think marrying whoever is going to walk through that door is the best idea. I think…I think I should have a say in who I marry.” I make the mistake of looking up to see Granddad frowning at me with his eyes raised, but it doesn’t stop my mouth from spilling every dumb thought on my brain. “I think I’ve already found someone whom I could fall for. He’s smart and handsome, and I think you will like him. He’s a businessman. And he’s a great kisser.” Damn it, why did I say that?

  “Hush, girl,” he says.

  But I don’t hush. I keep talking. “And I don’t think I even want to get married anytime soon. I want to find more boys to kiss. I’m young, much too young to get married this year. I need to live a little first. And if I’m honest, I think I could run the company by myself without a husband by my side. I think that’s what Dad would have wanted.”

  “Hush,” he says more sternly this time.

  I stop, mainly because I can’t believe the words that just came out of my mouth. What the hell has come over me? I don’t want to run the company myself, do I?

  I grab my cup of water sitting on the edge of the desk. I take a long sip, waiting for the lecture.

  But it never comes.

  I hear a deep voice clear his throat from behind me. I don’t have to look up to know the man I’m supposed to marry is standing in the doorway. I just hope he wasn’t standing there long enough to hear that embarrassing speech.

  “Come on in, son,” Granddad says, standing from the desk with a huge smile on his face.

  I’m screwed. He just called this man son. He’s probably more in love with this guy than he is with me. And after that epic speech I just gave, I have no doubt that I’ll be marrying this man behind me.

  “I would like to introduce you to my granddaughter, Kinsley,” he says, as he walks toward the man behind me.

  I take one last sip of water before I plaster on the biggest fake smile I can manage while I turn to meet my future husband. I wonder if he knows. Has he already been told that, in order to get complete control of the company, he is going to have to marry me? Or is he blissfully ignorant to that fact?

  I bring my eyes up to face my future husband. The man standing in front of me isn’t my future husband. It isn’t a complete stranger. It’s Killian.

  I choke. That’s what stupid thing I do in response to seeing the man who had his tongue down my throat only hours earlier. I cough and choke on the remnants of the water that still clings to my throat. That’s what I do while I watch my grandfather place his hand on the shoulder of the man who just brought me my first orgasm that wasn’t given by a vibrator.

  “Are you okay?” Killian asks.

  I nod as I choke again. I grab my throat, trying to get it to stop. It doesn’t, not until I get three more coughs in, causing my cheeks to turn an even brighter shade of pink.

  When I finally lift my eyes back up, I see two pairs of eyes intently staring at me. One pair looks at me with concern. The other looks at me with shame.

  I try to recompose myself by bringing back the smile I wore moments earlier.

  “Let’s try that again,” Granddad says. “I would like to introduce you to my beautiful granddaughter, Kinsley Felton.”

  “Kinsley, this is Killian Browne.”

  Killian steps forward and extends his hand to me. I slowly place mine in his, already anticipating how his strong handshake is going to start off tiny fireworks inside me. It does the second his hand touches mine.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Felton.”

  I narrow my eyes but nod anyway. He’s not going to let on that we have already met. I’m grateful.

  I notice Granddad smiling brightly behind him at our encounter.

  “Please take a seat. We have lots to talk about,” Granddad says as he takes a seat behind the desk again.

  I walk back to my seat, aware of Killian’s eyes taking in all of me from my high heels to my knee-length high-waist pencil skirt to my magenta top.

  I sit down and glance at him sitting in the chair next to me.

  Killian looks much the same as he did last night. He’s in a nicely fitted suit with a blue tie. His hair is gelled slightly to keep it spiked to the side. The only difference is his five o’clock shadow is gone.

  I look back to myself. I look completely different from the last time he saw me. I’m no longer wearing casual attire. Makeup covers every flaw I showed him before. Even my long, curly hair is perfectly styled, compared to the mess I must have looked like earlier.

  Does Killian know why he’s here—to marry me? Is that what he was referencing this morning when he talked of family obligations? Is he being forced to marry by his family? Did he know when he saw me at that table last night that I was whom he was going to marry?

  No, there’s no way. He would have said something. He wouldn’t have led me on like that.

  “You both know why you’re here, so let’s get started on some of the details.”

  I nod and see Killian nodding stoically next to me. So, he does know he’s here to marry me?

  “My son and I thought you two would make a perfect match. Kinsley is about to graduate from Yale. She’s an experienced model. She’s beautiful.”

  Killian nods, but he doesn’t say anything as Granddad tries to sell me to him.

  Granddad turns to face me now. “Killian has been working for the company for five years. He graduated from Harvard. He is our current VP of Casino Operations. He’s intelligent, ambitious, confident, focused, decisive, and professional.”

  I nod at my grandfather, disappointed that he’s listed several positive personality traits of Killian’s, while I got beautiful. That’s all I am to these men.

  I watch as he digs in the desk drawer before pulling out a stack of papers. He hands one stack to me and one to Killian.

  “These are the terms of Robert’s will. It includes everything that the two of you need to do in order to inherit his shares of the company. There is also a copy of my will and what you will need to do to get my shares as well. It also includes what we expect before we’ll make you CEO, Killian,” he says, staring at Killian now.

  He nods.

  “Both of you need to read it over in the next couple of days, so you understand everything.” He focuses his attention on Killian, like he is the only one who gets a say in any of this. “You have one month to decide. That’s all I can give you. I’ll need an answer then.”

  “Of course,” Killian says. He glances down at his watch. “I’m sorry to cut this meeting short, but I have another meeting I need to get to.”

  Granddad stands, smiling. “Don’t worry, Killian. I’m having Tony cover the meeting today. Instead, I have a reservation for you two at the new restaurant downstairs.”

  “Sir, I’m not sure Tony is the best man for the job. He’s not up-to-date yet on the new systems.”

  “I agree, but this”—Granddad points to me and then back to Killian—“is a more pressing issue at the moment.”

  Killian glares at my grandfather but doesn’t argue again.

  He turns to me. “Would you like to have lunch with me?”

  “Yes.” My answer isn’t forced. I want to have lunch with Killian.

  I have a lot of questions for him. Why the hell did he agree to marry a complete stranger? And did he know who I was when he stared at me from across the blackjack table? Did he know exactly what he was doing when he seduced me? Because the longer I know Killian, the more I have a strange feeling that he did.

  I stare down at the menu.
I haven’t said a word since we left my father’s office. Killian hasn’t either. I think he’s giving me time to process everything. I try to look at the menu to at least make up my mind on what I’m going to eat. Then, I can focus on what just happened.

  “What can I get you to drink?” the bubbly waitress asks.

  “Um…” I say. I take a deep breath, trying to decide what wine I want. I want wine—no, I need wine to get through this, but I have no idea about wines. I eye a delicious-looking cheeseburger as a waitress passes by with it before placing it on the table next to us.

  “We will both have a glass of Chateau Margaux Bordeaux ’61, if you have it. If not, then ’82. We will have the vegetables and hummus appetizer. And we will both have the salmon with asparagus.”

  I glare at Killian as the waitress takes our menus away.

  “What was that?”

  “What?” he asks innocently.

  “Why did you order for me? And why did you order the salmon? I’m not a health nut like you. I wanted the burger.”

  “Health nut, huh?” He casually leans back in his chair. “I just didn’t want to give you too much to think about right now. I knew you liked the wine, and after the breakfast you had, you need some vegetables and healthy protein to keep you going today.”

  I shake my head. “You have no idea what I need.”

  The waitress quickly brings the wine, and I’m at least thankful he ordered my favorite wine. I need to write that down, so I know what to order in the future.

  I sip as I try to process what just happened, so I’ll know where to start with my questioning. My brain immediately goes to the moment in my father’s office. I literally choked. God, that was so embarrassing. What is surprising though was his reaction. When he saw me, he didn’t seem the least bit surprised. Not even the best actor in the world would have been able to hide some sort of reaction of surprise when he saw me. I’ve studied enough actors’ reactions to know a truthful one from a fake one. His was truthful.

  I deepen my glare. “You already knew who I was. Last night, when you sat down at that blackjack table, you already knew who I was.”

  “Yes,” he says.

  “Why would you do that? Why would you lead me on like that when you already knew? You lied to me! You made me believe I could find someone on my own. Instead, you were prearranged. Did my grandfather put you up to it? Did he want you to seduce me before we met? Did you two think I would be happy then, if I already liked you when I found out it was you?”

  My face flushes bright red again, but this time, it’s mostly out of anger and only a little bit from embarrassment. Everyone knew, except for me.

  “I didn’t initially go to the casino, seeking you out, last night. I went there for the same reason as you, I’m guessing. I was mourning a man I deeply cared about, and I thought gambling like I used to with him would be the best way to honor that man.”

  “Wait, my father went gambling with you?”

  “Yes. I worked very closely with your father over the last five years. He was a great mentor to me. When we flew to different cities for meetings, we would gamble at other people’s casinos. It was the best way to learn from the competition. Robert was a great man. I miss him.”

  “Don’t,” I say, my voice trembling. “Don’t. You don’t get to miss him. You don’t get to mourn him like I do. He’s not your father.”

  The guilt immediately comes back. This man spent time with my father when I didn’t. I should have been there for him when he died. I should have gone to college closer to home, so I could have spent more time with him. Instead, I was happy to get as far away as possible when my family suggested Yale.

  “Oh, princess, I could never miss him like you do, but I still miss him.”

  I freeze when he says the nickname he has adapted for me…except he didn’t come up with my name. My father did.

  “You got it from him.”

  His eyes narrow in response, but he has no clue what I’m talking about.

  “You got the princess thing from my father. That’s all he ever called me. I’m sure if you hung out so much together, you heard him talk about me in that manner. Don’t call me princess—ever again.”

  He looks sad when I say that, but I can’t deal with this. I can’t deal with the fact that he got to spend so much time with my father in his final years while I was away at school and got so little time. My life is not fair.

  I feel the tears welling in my eyes, but I don’t let them out. Killian doesn’t deserve any of my tears. He doesn’t deserve to see me mourn a man who was mine, not his.

  The waitress places our appetizer in front of us. It looks disgusting. A mush of stuff sits in the middle with raw carrots, cucumbers, and celeries lining the outside. I don’t touch it. Instead, I lift the wine glass back to my lips.

  I have so many questions. I don’t even know where to start. So, I just sit and watch as Killian fills a plate with hummus and vegetables. Then, to my surprise, he places the plate in front of me before filling another one.

  “Eat,” he says.

  My stomach grumbles, so I do, but it’s not because he tells me to. I try the carrot in the mush. It’s not half bad, I realize, as I crunch on the vegetable, but I’m not going to let him know that.

  “Ask me,” he says before taking a bite of his food.

  “What?”

  “Ask me everything.”

  “When did you find out?” I ask hesitantly.

  “When did I find out that your father wanted me to marry you before he would make me CEO?”

  I nod, unable to say any words.

  “Three years ago. It was when he promoted me to VP.”

  My eyes are wide. He’s known for three years that he is going to marry me. He could have come up to me at any point in those three years and told me. He could have at least introduced himself to me. He could have done anything, but he didn’t.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He runs his hand through his hair, slightly messing it up, but somehow, it looks even better. “I wanted to. I learned a lot about you from your father. I stalked you on social media. I quickly realized that your father was right. You weren’t ready to meet me. You were too young and naive to meet whom you were supposed to marry. You’re still too young.”

  “I am not!” I protest.

  He smiles a smug smile. “Yes, you are.”

  “Then, why did you agree to marry me if I’m so young and naive?”

  “I haven’t yet.”

  My eyes grow wide at his response.

  “What do you mean, you haven’t yet? I thought…”

  “I told your father I would think about it, but I’ve never really had any intention of marrying anybody—ever. I’m perfectly content as I am.”

  “Then, why are you here? If you are not going to marry me, why are you here?”

  He looks smugly past me as he contemplates his answer. “Because I want to be CEO. I’ve earned it. And I’ll marry you, if I have to, to get it, but I think there is another way, a better way.”

  His words sting. It stings a lot to hear him say that he doesn’t want to marry me even though I don’t really want to marry him either. It still hurts though to hear a man who I thought at least found me attractive wouldn’t even consider marrying me.

  “What was last night then? Why did you almost sleep with me if you didn’t want to marry me?”

  He cocks his head and smirks at me. “I can fuck women without marrying them. And, if I recall, we never got around to the fucking.”

  I wince every time he says the word fuck. I’m not used to men using language like that around me. Although it usually sounds sexy when falling from his lips, right now, it feels like a punch to the gut.

  “Why were you at the casino last night?” I barely whisper.

  “Like I said earlier, I didn’t go into that casino, seeking you out. Then, I saw you at that table, and I thought it would be fun to mess with you. After watching you for a while, I
found that you were almost a complete contradiction from everything that I had known about you. You seemed confident at that table, sure of yourself. You didn’t seem like the naive young girl I’d thought you were.”

  “And now?”

  He sighs. “I still think you are a naive young princess.”

  I glare at him when he says the last word. “You’re wrong.”

  The waitress interrupts us, bringing us plates of salmon with asparagus. I lift my fork and dig in, just needing my hands to do something. Otherwise, I might just do something stupid, like climb over the table and ring Killian’s neck.

  “I know that you went to Yale to study theater. Who does that? You don’t go to Yale to study theater. You go to Yale to study business or economics or finance—something useful. It just goes to show that your father paid your way in, and you could only make it as a theater major.”

  He pauses to take a bite while I continue shoving my own food in my mouth, trying my best to remain calm and poised, like I’ve been taught to do.

  “I know that you modeled for Seventeen magazine along with a slew of other teenage magazines. You’re beautiful, but you don’t have the look to do anything for more mature clientele.”

  I take another bite. I feel the tears welling again, but I hold them back. Do not cry.

  “I know that you haven’t been on a date in three years. That’s why you needed a release last night. I know that you have never made one goddamn decision by yourself. You want to know how I know that? You texted your father every five fucking minutes, asking him for advice.”

  A tear falls, just one single tear.

  “I know because you are the reason that this has gotten this far. If you had stood up to your father before he died, you wouldn’t be getting forced into a marriage you didn’t want. And don’t tell me that you do want this. I know what you were running from last night. It’s this. You were running away from being forced into an arranged marriage!”

  I wipe the tear from my eye. “Stop!” I say a little too loudly. I notice the stares from the table closest to us, and I try to adjust my voice to not bring any more attention to us. “Well, you were running, too! I don’t have to have studied everything about you for three years to know everything I need to know about you. You’re an arrogant, bossy ass. Everything in your life revolves around work. You don’t date because you don’t have any time to. You just find any woman you can at strange bars to pick up and take home for one night. And, worst of all, you must not be that good at your job if the only way you can get the CEO position you are so desperate for is to marry the previous CEO’s daughter. And the only reason they chose you and not someone more qualified is because you are the only man in an executive position who’s anywhere near my age,” I say, having no idea where those words came from. I’ve never been this outspoken in my entire life.

 

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