The Merger: A Billionaire Fake Marriage Romance (Playboys of New York Book 3)

by JA Low

  She smiles at me and pats my arm. “But you’re always so generous.”

  “Can’t take it with me to the grave now, can I.” It’s our running joke because every year she tells me I donate way too much, which of course I do, but I earn more interest in a month than what I’ve just shelled out. Plus, I can claim it, so in the end, it’s win-win for everyone involved.

  “So true. Now, go find a pretty girl and have some fun.” She gives me a flirty wink, the dirty old bat.

  “Thank God there is someone else here who I know.” EJ, a close friend of ours and New York’s celebrity chef, elbows me in my tuxedo-clad ribs.

  “I didn’t know you were coming.” Turning to my friend, we both grab some red wine as the waiter passes by. “Stella booked me, said it would be a good thing for my profile or some bullshit.”

  “Is she here tonight?” I take a look around. Over all the years I have known EJ, he has never introduced me to his assistant.

  “No.” He glares at me.

  “When am I ever going to meet this elusive assistant?”

  “Never.” He smiles, taking a sip of my red wine.

  “Is she that hot?” EJ glares over his glass at me. “Oh, damn, she is. Tell me… you have tapped that. Had some under-the-desk late-night action?”

  “Fuck off. I’m not a dirty prick like you.”

  I laugh quite loudly. “But you want to.” I elbow him.

  He gives me a look that says, ‘Hell yes, I do, and it’s never ever going to happen.’

  “You are never going to meet her. Period.”

  “Fine. It’s weird but fine.” Taking a sip of my wine, I have another look around.

  “Elliot Jones, isn’t it?” A group of socialite cougars crowds around EJ. They begin to paw at him as they undress him not too subtly with their eyes.

  I think I’ll leave EJ to it—they’re scary after a couple of wines.

  Walking around while counting the minutes until I can leave, I see a woman standing alone admiring a painting in the distance. Her red dress is entirely backless before clinging to her ripe-for-the-picking ass. Her raven hair is pulled up into a high ponytail, and I notice I’m not the only person checking her out.

  It won’t be long until the sharks start circling.

  The closer I get, the more she reminds me of Emma. Shaking my head, I really need to get that woman out of my mind. Then I watch in slow motion as Levi James strides over to her, placing a kiss on her cheek as he hands her a champagne glass. That motherfucker is handsome as fuck. He’s stiff competition, plus he has the ace up his sleeve—his dead wife. Women love that bullshit. Not that he would use that to pick up women, he’s not a dick like me.

  My steps slow even more when her profile comes into view.

  Holy shit, it is Emma.

  10

  Emma

  “I cannot thank you enough for coming tonight with me.” Levi kisses me on the cheek, handing me a glass of champagne.

  “I know what these society things are like, especially as you’re fresh meat.” Running my finger down his suit jacket, I’ve known Levi James for years. We met when he used to be the number one male model on the scene before he moved into advertising. He owns the largest creative arts advertising company in New York. Levi’s taken me under his wing since I’ve branched out on my own. Helping me navigate small business, even though he earns millions every year.

  He still remembers the initial hard slog he had to do, and the least I can do to repay him for his time is to accompany him to a charity event as his date. Levi is a catch, and the thirsty New York singles’ market knows it. Levi’s not ready for it at all, so I’m like his beard.

  Levi’s wife died under truly horrible circumstances. She was in the car with his best friend, who she was having an affair with when they were on their way to his home in The Hamptons for a dirty weekend. A drunk driver wiped them off the road. It’s hard to hate a dead woman as you lay her to rest with your son standing beside you. So, I do what I can to help him.

  “Emma?”

  That voice. The one that haunts me most nights while my rabbit is working overtime. Slowly, I turn and see Anderson West looking like freaking James Bond in a tuxedo. The man is fine in plain clothes, but seeing him dressed up like this is too much. He’s devastatingly handsome. Big too, not just in dick size. He definitely looks after himself.

  After our little vacation thing, he left me his card slipped under my hotel room door. I contemplated multiple times about calling him when I got back to New York, but in all honesty, now that I’m home, I don’t have time for distractions. I have a new business to run that I’m slowly getting off the ground. I’m a one-woman show at the moment besides two interns. I’m working twenty of the twenty-four hours in the day. I don’t have time to play games with a self-confessed player.

  “Anderson?” Of course, he would be here. He’s rich, probably donates millions to the cause.

  “Anderson West.” Levi seems excited to meet him. How the hell does he know him? They shake hands like long lost friends.

  “It’s been a while,” Anderson says gently.

  Seriously New York, how small of an island are you?

  “Hang on, do you two know each other?” Levi asks.

  “We met on vacation last month.” Explaining to Levi, he nods in understanding because he knows the story of Chloe and Walker’s disastrous wedding fiasco.

  “It’s good to see you again.” Anderson holds out his hand to me, shaking it.

  Levi looks between the two of us, and I am sure he can feel the underlying tension.

  “I’m going to grab a drink,” Levi tells us, leaving the two of us alone.

  “Levi’s a good guy… you could do worse,” Anderson adds.

  My eyes narrow on him. Is he jealous?

  “He is.” Placing my hand around my glass, I take a sip.

  “A little too good for you, I think.”

  “Excuse me?” What the hell? Dick.

  “Not like that little one.” He smirks. The asshole. “Meaning, he’s very, you know…” shrugging his shoulders.

  “You know, what?”

  “He’s not like us.” Anderson runs a finger down my back as he moves to my side. I’m unable to control the shiver and goosebumps that litter my skin.

  “Would you spit it out?” I am growing frustrated.

  “You look so beautiful when you’re angry.” My eyes narrow on him. He needs to stop being cute. “He’s a nice guy.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m with him…” Anderson stills at my comment, and I finish off with, “Tonight.” I am not sure why I don’t want Anderson thinking I’m dating Levi.

  “You will grow bored of nice guys, Emma.” He’s right, but not sure why that’s any of his business.

  “And let me guess, you’re not a nice guy?”

  There’s that cocky smirk again.

  “You know I’m not. The fact that I want to take my friend’s girl into the bathroom and fuck her senseless proves I’m not a good guy.”

  “You don’t do seconds. Remember your rules?”

  “And yet, here I am ordering another round.”

  Raising a brow at his confession, I’m not sure how I feel about that little tidbit of information.

  “Such a shame you’re into nice guys at the moment.”

  I take a sip of my champagne, so I don’t grab his stupid face and bury it between my tits.

  “Maybe you should give me a call when you’ve finished playing with nice. You have my number.” And with those words, he turns on his heel and disappears into the crowd.

  “Looks like you need this.” Levi hands me a fresh glass of champagne, and I throw it back in one gulp. “You, okay?” Concern falls across his handsome face as he stares at me.

  I kind of wish he did it for me, but I friend-zoned him a long time ago.

  “Yep. Someone just gave me an indecent proposal.”

  Levi’s brows rise high on his forehead. “Anderson West is New
York’s biggest player,” he warns me.

  “Been there, done that, got the T-shirt.”

  “No.” He seems surprised by my confession. Nodding my head, I take a sip of my drink.

  “We met on vacation, had a fantastic one-night stand, and tonight is the first time I’ve seen him since.”

  “And what? He was asking for round two?”

  “Yep.”

  “Wait. What? No. He’s known never to call a woman again after hooking up. The guy is the worst when it comes to women.”

  Reaching out, I pretend to dust off some imaginary lint off Levi’s tuxedo. “I know, but I wouldn’t mind a little stress relief if you know what I mean?”

  While I pout at him, he rolls his eyes and laughs. Levi wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me in close. “There are so many better options out there than him. Just say the word, and I can find you someone.”

  Levi really is the best.

  “I’m not looking for a happy ever after, remember?”

  “Well then, I guess he’s perfect for that,” Levi states as he clinks his champagne glass against mine.

  11

  Anderson

  Emma: Did you enjoy the redhead?

  Her message catches me off-guard the next morning. Rolling over, my bed is empty. Then last night comes flooding back and makes me smile.

  Anderson: She gave good head in the bathroom, but that was about it.

  Emma: Her husband wasn’t impressed when she came out and kissed him with your penis juice on her lips then?

  I spit out my coffee at her comment. What the fuck! I’m pretty sure she said she was single.

  Anderson: Hope you healed Levi’s broken heart with your voodoo pussy.

  Two can play that game, sweetheart.

  Emma: My pussy is magic, but you would need an exorcist to help Levi.

  Why am I smiling as I make my way into the office?

  Anderson: What are your plans for today?

  Emma: Photo shoot.

  Anderson: Need a helper? ;)

  Emma: Don’t offer to help if you’re not willing to give it.

  What does that mean?

  Anderson: I can lift heavy things. I can carry stuff.

  Emma: If you are serious, my intern called in sick, and I’ve been left high and dry.

  Anderson: Tell me where and when and I’ll be there.

  Emma: Lifesaver. The shoot is at Hudson Yards Loft. I’m in loft 4. See you in an hour.

  “Hi, I’m here to see Emma Banks,” I tell the wannabe emo kid as I arrive at the loft.

  “She’s through there.” He unenthusiastically points through the door.

  Walking into the large bright-white space, it takes me a couple of moments for my eyes to adjust. I see her raven hair first, followed by hearing her laughter. She’s sitting in a makeup chair while people work on her.

  “Hey.” I try to grab her attention as she furiously types away on her phone.

  “You came.” She seems genuinely shocked while she looks me over. I’m dressed for work in my ten-thousand-dollar suit. I don’t really look like I should be helping out. “You look… good.” Emma unashamedly gives me the once-over.

  I’m totally overdressed for this situation. Shucking off my jacket, undoing my tie, I roll up my business shirt sleeves. “Tell me where you want me and what to do.”

  “You sure you’re not too busy?” she questions me.

  “Nope.” That’s a lie, I am, but I should delegate better, so I did today to be here.

  Emma eyes me suspiciously. “Cynthia,” she calls out, and a little mousey brunette runs out toward her. “This is Andy.” She points to me. “He’s going to help you today.” Her eyes widen as she takes me in. I wiggle my eyebrows at her, and she blushes. “Stop flirting with my staff,” Emma warns.

  After helping Cynthia steam the clothes, talk down a stressed fashion designer, get a model’s phone number, and moved some heavy shit around, it was time to watch Emma do her thing. Apparently, she had to jump in at the last minute as a model didn’t show.

  Sitting back, I take her in as Emma poses for the camera. She’s gorgeous, and her body is insane. I just have to pretend that my dick isn’t getting hard watching her work. I move some more sets around and sit back and watch her continue, then fetch her some water to sip between shots.

  “Thank you so much for helping today,” Emma says as we pack up the last of the things.

  “I had fun. You’re a natural in front of the camera.” Her face is entirely bare of makeup. She looks much younger, but still just as gorgeous.

  “I owe you dinner for today.” Looking up from her bag at me, she stuffs the last of her paperwork into it.

  “Not going to say no to a free feed. You sure, though? Look at me. I’m huge. May cost you.”

  She smiles. We are interrupted by a couple more people who say their goodbyes.

  “You okay, staying in? I can order takeaway to my apartment.”

  “Sounds fine.” Taking the large bag from her shoulder and carrying it for her, she gives me a small smile at the gesture.

  “My car is out the front.” She stops walking when she sees my black Maybach pull up in front of us.

  “Seriously?” She gives me a defeated look.

  “It’s a guy thing.” Rolling her eyes, she follows me to my car. The driver holds open the door for her to slide in. She moves over, and I get in behind her, then she gives her address to my driver.

  “I can’t thank you enough for helping me today.” Resting her head against the leather cushion, she turns her head in my direction.

  “I’m glad I could help.”

  We sit in awkward silence for a couple of moments.

  “Levi and I are friends, just so you know.”

  Why does this information make me feel slightly better?

  “So, you two…” I don’t finish my sentence as she shakes her head, indicating no.

  “We are just friends. He helps me with my business.”

  “So, what is it exactly that you do?” I’m not sure if we’ve ever discussed that.

  “I’ve started my own fashion marketing company. I represent brands and help launch them. We do content, branding, advertising, marketing, and organize photo shoots.”

  “Model in them, too,” I add.

  “Yep, even model in them. I will do what I have to, to get this off the ground.”

  “Do you have an office?” She shakes her head. “Then, where do you work from?”

  “My home.”

  My eyebrows raise in surprise.

  “I’m not quite there yet, to rent out office space. I also don’t have enough staff. I have a friend who freelances graphic designs for me. Levi’s company helps with the advertising side of the business. I have two interns and me.”

  Wow, she really is doing this all on her own. I’m impressed.

  “I have all the contacts between brands and buyers. I’m the connector.” I noticed that today everyone gravitates toward her.

  “Here we are.”

  That didn’t take long. We slide out of the car.

  She looks tired.

  I take her bags as we step up the steps, and she opens the door. We wait for the lift and silently head up to her floor. She unlocks the door, and I walk into her personal space.

  Wow. This is not at all what I expected.

  “I know it’s not much, but it’s mine.” Placing her keys on a side table as we enter, it may be small, but there’s a bunch of natural light. There’s a massive hallway down the middle of the home. She turns left, and we follow the hallway to the kitchen. “What do you feel like? Greek, Italian, Chinese, Japanese, Indian…” She flips through the takeout menus.

  “Whatever you want is fine.”

  “Greek it is.” Grabbing her cell, she quickly types an order in. “It will arrive in about twenty minutes. I’m just going to have a quick shower. I feel yuck. Make yourself at home. There’s beer in the fridge or wine. The TV is over there.” She p
oints into the distance.

  Looking around her apartment, I notice a severe lack of personal touches. She has exquisite taste in furniture—all neutrals and clean lines, yet relaxed.

  Grabbing a beer from the fridge, I sit on the sofa. Moments later, there’s a knock at her door. Emma’s still in the shower, so I stand and walk on over to the door. The food has arrived, so I tip the driver. The smell instantly fills the apartment. I open cupboard doors to find the plates, then set the table, pour Emma some wine, and just as I sit, she walks out dressed in leggings and a sloppy sweater that falls off one side of her shoulder.

  “Sorry, kind of lost myself in there.” Her hair is wet, but she looks relaxed. “You did all this?” She looks down at the table.

  Shrugging, I sip my beer. She seems impressed as we sit down and eat our meal.

  “I can do the dishes later,” she tells me after we have finished our meal. “Come. Sit. We can watch a movie if you want?” Patting the space beside her indicating for me to sit, I do. Why do I feel nervous all of a sudden? Maybe because you don’t date, and this definitely feels like a date.

  Emma begins to flick through the channels. “Would it be bad of me to say that all I’ve been able to think about is taking advantage of you,” she confesses, looking over her shoulder at me.

  “My dick was hard all through your photo shoot.”

  Emma grins. “It sucks you have rules.” She plays with the rim of her wine glass.

  Looking over at how beautiful she is, I don’t know why I’ve stuck to these rules, so I say, “Fuck, the rules.” Reaching out, I wrap my hand around her neck and pull her lips to mine.

  Within seconds, she’s straddling me. We are frantic, a month of foreplay has made me come undone.

  12

  Emma

  It’s been a couple months since I’ve caught up with Anderson. He’s been jetting around the world, and I’ve been stuck in New York working my ass off, hiring more interns to help me get this business off the ground. I’m run off my feet, so when EJ, Chloe’s extremely hot brother and celebrity chef extraordinaire, invited us to his restaurant launch in Vegas, how could I say no.