My Billionaire Fake Fiance

by Linda West

  "Good, because I believe we're all out."

  ****

  An older man let himself out of what looked to be a library, and Devlin stopped. "Hi, Dad," Devlin said tentatively. His dad turned slowly and looked confused.

  Devlin walked over to him. "Dad, it's me. Devlin." He thrust out his hand as if it were a business meeting. The older man looked at his hand, then back at him.

  "Devlin." The older Somerset hugged his son affectionately.

  "I thought for a minute you didn't recognize me,” said Devlin after the embrace. He sounded like a hurt little boy.

  "No, of course not, son. I lost my darn glasses, and I'm just stubborn now about getting a new pair. When did you get in–just now?" He looked around, and his eyes caught mine.

  "W-we got in late last night. I came to surprise you. You were probably half asleep; I should have called. "

  He smiled. "So good to see you, lad. And who's this beauty?"

  I gulped.

  "My fiancé, Dad. "

  The man studied me again. "Really? Well done, well done, both of you. Welcome to our home." He smiled all the way through to the heart. "Truly wonderful to have you both here. I couldn't be happier." His gray eyes crinkled with sincerity.

  I felt the urge to come over and give him a little hug, because that's what I would have done if it were the real thing. I suddenly felt weird about the ruse. I hadn't really considered it all the way through, and how I’d have to be here lying to this kind old man grappling to hang on to his mind.

  Inside I wanted to say, “Hey, Mr. Somerset. How are you? I miss your visits and you bringing me chocolate milk…" Instead, I was praying he didn't recognize me and implicate my father. I backed up quickly and hid behind Devlin.

  Mr. Somerset ambled off toward the kitchen door. "Well, I'm off to help the young'uns build a proper snowman. There's perspective they need to consider. Not a mathematician between them. Enjoy breakfast." He nodded graciously.

  "Oh, and Allie," he said lightly.

  I went cold with fear that he was about to call me on my lie. Allie–we could have at least changed my darn first name.

  I stiffened and said, "Yes, sir?”

  "Watch out for the snakes." He laughed and waved as he went along on his mission.

  I looked up at Devlin when I heard him catch his breath. It had been a long time since he'd seen his dad.

  "You okay?" I mumbled as he watched his father struggle with his boots and finally get them on with the help of the butler.

  He tried to walk out the door without his coat, but the sweet red-haired maid, Alice, stopped him and buttoned him up warm before allowing him out.

  Devlin cleared his throat and pulled his eyes away. "I'm afraid Sissy's reports about Dad were right." He instinctively grabbed my hand and squeezed it. I tightened my fingers around his and looked up at him with empathy.

  I had watched my mother deteriorate from cancer, her body slowing get weaker, but she had never lost her memory or mind. I couldn't imagine how that loss would feel.

  His eyes met mine, and for a moment, we understood each other. Then he took a deep breath and pulled me into my first battle with the General.

  Chapter 23

  We continued through the large glass doors to the sunroom that was mainly a botanical garden filled with five different colors of roses. Pink, yellow, red, orange, and white. They grew everywhere in a floral rainbow extravaganza. I inhaled the sweet smell and smiled at Devlin.

  He frowned at me.

  "What?"

  "Favorite flower," I said. "Mine is rose."

  He stopped and looked around. The sunshine lit the room and its bevy of glorious flowers.

  He smiled. "Ditto. Roses."

  "The perfect couple," I mocked.

  He stopped and looked at me.

  "Are you ready?"

  I wasn't.

  I nodded.

  He grabbed my hand and squeezed it.

  "Remember…"

  "The weather is lovely, isn't it?" I said like a drone.

  He smiled, and we continued on through the French doors and out to the buffet breakfast that was being served on the outdoor balcony.

  Despite the cold, it was warm and cozy outside. There were heaters along the edges of the stone balcony and fire at each end of the space. Jeeves and another man that looked like a Chippendale dancer in full black and whites stood at attendance at each end of a fancy buffet of delicious delights.

  The balcony had been decorated with lights and mistletoe, and a solo violinist wove about the table and played Christmas melodies like a music fairy.

  I was stunned with the beauty of it all. So, this is how billionaires did breakfast.

  The balcony overlooked a spacious yard with marble statues and an enclosed pool that looked like an Olympian temple. Best yet, the Kissing Bridge ski mountains in all their perfection were in full view.

  Devlin held a chair for me, and I sat down with as much grace as I could muster before coffee.

  The table was long and elegant, and the only people seated were Sissy and her husband. I focused on the view. I consider myself able to get along with everyone–after two cups of coffee.

  Coffee, please, before my fangs grow.

  As if reading my mind, Jeeves appeared at my shoulder and leaned over and filled up my coffee cup. He offered me cream. I smiled in gratitude. I loved Jeeves. Jeeves good.

  Devlin placed my napkin on my lap. I wrinkled my nose at him. "He loves to do that. Any excuse for him to touch me. Such a horny dog."

  Devlin pinched me under the table.

  Sissy looked up from her magazine and put her hand over her coffee cup as Jeeves approached. She dismissed him and waved over the handsome waiter, pointing to her empty champagne flute.

  He hustled over to retrieve the bottle from the ice bucket and refill her glass. She watched his butt the entire time he poured her drink. I raised an eyebrow at Devlin, and he cleared his throat.

  Kent, Sissy's husband, popped out from behind his newspaper cover. He wore a garish plaid suit and black Harry Potter glasses.

  "Devlin. You showed up. Lovely to see you, old chap, it's been a while." He drawled in some weird English accent despite the fact Devlin had said he grew up in Santa Monica.

  "Same, Kent. How's LA treating you?"

  "Warmly. I'm not sure how I let Sissy talk me into this, instead of Hawaii."

  Sissy dripped out. "No one knew you were coming for Christmas, Devlin. It's been a long time."

  Devlin smiled back a matching icicle. "I don't remember you mentioning you were coming, either."

  She motioned the hot guy to refill her flute again. I have to say, I didn't mind watching those glutes glide over at a closer range.

  "Well, it's a surprise for both of us." Sissy scoffed and raised her glass.

  I got busy focusing on my amazing-smelling croissant. On the table in front of me, there were three types of butter and two unidentified jellies to choose from. I looked at the condiment plate, hesitating. One spoon. Did I use the same spoon for all five sauces, or my own spoon? I put my hand down. Gosh, darn it! My kingdom for a good old Egg McMuffin with no bacon.

  Devlin side-glanced over and nodded for me to follow his lead as he scooped the jelly onto his plate with his own spoon–and then his bread.

  He winked at me, and something inside when to mush. He was much harder to hate when he wasn't making horrible faces at me.

  "I know why you're here, Sissy. You might fool Dad, but you can't fool me."

  "And I know why you're here."

  The standoff chill was palatable.

  Sissy looked me up and down.

  "The new one—the dancer—you brought home for Christmas, how very traditional of you."

  I coughed.

  "No, I'm not a porn star. That was…" I grasped for help from Devlin like a life preserver. "I'm in college…no strange dancing."

  Devlin was glaring at his sister.

  "Allie is my fiancé."
<
br />   Her elegant brows rose in unison.

  "Oh, that's rich."

  My face flushed. Had she seen right through our ruse already? I swallowed and moved closer to Devlin to shield myself from her death stare. She seemed to have on some kind of contact lenses, so she looked like a deranged anime.

  "Where's the ring?" she said, voice like syrup.

  I stuck out my hand limply like it was a Gumby arm. The epic three-carat diamond sparkled and shone.

  "Humph. A ring isn't a wedding. It won't work, Devlin. I know you. You're a playboy, and there is no way you are marrying anyone. You're not the marrying kind, but you know exactly what Dad wants."

  I suddenly felt terrible for Devlin. She looked at him like he was dirt, too.

  Sissy drank her champagne and stared at me over the disappearing bubbles. I focused on my plate. The waiter had just put down an elegant vegetarian omelet, and it looked way nicer than Scary Day Drunk Sissy.

  "Sooooo…" she cooed dangerously. I glanced up, hoping she wasn't talking to me. She was.

  I gulped.

  "Exactly how did you meet my brother? You don't really look like his type."

  My face flamed and I balled up my fist under the table. I judged her to be about 5'7” but super skinny. She probably threw up everything she ate when no one was looking. Skinny salad-eating Californian obviously didn't know she was messing with a Jersey girl. We had weight going for us.

  Devlin reached over and undid my clenched fingers and brought my hand up to his mouth. He kissed my hand tenderly and stared into my eyes with fake affection.

  "We bumped into each other outside of the Somerset building, actually. I took one look at her and knew she was the one. She had this funny cap on, and when it fell off– her blue eyes stopped my breath. Love at first sight."

  He stared at me like he meant it.

  "Y-yes I remember it well,” I stuttered. “Swept me off my feet." Devlin looked me in the eye and then aimed a barb at his sister. "And I knew she was different from all the other spoiled rotten rich women I had known my whole life…"

  He held up his coffee cup in mock salute.

  Sissy brought up her hands and made a claw action back at Devlin.

  "Pulling out the talons so early, Devlin, and you haven't even had a drink." She laughed a chortle that sounded like she needed to get her lungs checked.

  "Nothing like a bunch of drunk Somersets to ruin a holiday, right Kent?"

  Kent was back in his newspaper, and I wish he could have offered me even part of it. I'm pretty sure he wasn't even looking at the cartoon section.

  Devlin squeezed my hand and returned it to me. I looked at it like it was a foreign invader, then stuck it on my lap and played with my napkin.

  "Balderdash! I don't drink during the day, Sissy," Devlin spat back. "We've got big things going on with Somerset Industries. I've been on the phone trying to keep one of our biggest accounts all morning. We need to make changes to compete! I'm hoping you'll get on my side and help Dad see that he needs to let me take over now so I can save our family business."

  She laughed. "Good luck."

  Devlin stiffened beside me.

  Jeeves pushed the waiter toward refilling Sissy's glass, and she luckily went back to looking inappropriately at his butt.

  Chapter 24

  Now, I really did mean to keep my mouth shut. I certainly wasn't going to bring up the rainforest or the fact that Somerset Industries killed more trees for stupid boxes than anyone, and that directly impacted global warming.

  No. I was going to be the perfect, quiet well-heeled fiancé. But since I am neither well-heeled nor a fiancé, it was only a matter of time before I would mess up even with the best intentions.

  Breakfast with the Somersets was about as much fun as Russian roulette. Between the evil sneers, rotten barbed comments, and just plain condescendence, it was hard to get my good eat on, despite the lavish spread.

  I love breakfast, and I'm not above ordering the Hungry Man Breakfast with the all-you-can-eat pancakes.

  I don't have a weight problem, so I guess it's okay that I can eat my own weight in veggie sausage. But it can get a little embarrassing when everyone else is just drinking coffee and trading insults.

  I, for one, think they would have enjoyed themselves a lot more if they kept their mouths occupied with some good old feasting.

  After all, it was Christmas. I watched below as the children played with Mr. Somerset and attempted to place the big snowball pieces on top of each other

  "He looks like a great grandpa," I offered. I had never gotten to know mine.

  Sissy snorted and splashed her drink around drunkenly. "I wish he could have put that act on for us when we were kids." She sounded so bitter, and I wondered if I misjudged how perfect things were from my outside view.

  "Well, he looks like he's trying now…" her husband said, without looking up from his newspaper.

  "He's a good actor." Sissy fingered her champagne flute.

  My gut dropped at the venomous comment. I straightened and tried to offer something to the conversation.

  "Devlin mentioned some memory issues–is there anything we can do?” I asked, concerned as I took a miniature bite of my omelet.

  Sissy glared at me.

  "That would be none of your business. Some part-time girlfriend of my brother’s has no concern for what goes on in the inner circle of the Somerset dynasty."

  I felt the slap without the physical touch. My face reddened. Was caring about someone considered low class now? Who knew, with these people? I usually had a quick sarcastic comeback for random insults like this, but throwing Sissy Somerset to the ground in front of the buffet table did not work in my Eliza Doolittle plan today.

  For a moment, I felt just like I had when I was a child. Not good enough. Outsider. Keep your mouth shut; no one cares what the help's daughter has to say.

  Suddenly her bloodshot eyes zeroed in on me, and she pointed. "You. How do I know that face, those googly blue eyes…?"

  Of course, that just made my eyes Betty Boop even more. I wanted to lean in and say, That's right sister, I'm back like Chucky's revenge. "Remember the art studio?" I wanted to ring out like my own personal Alamo.

  Suddenly, I felt firm hands on my shoulders, steadying me. I hadn't realized I'd been shaking until Devlin stopped me. I looked up at his face, thankful, and was thrown off guard by the look of defense he had on his.

  "That's no way to talk to my fiancé. Of course, it matters. I agree that I…" He looked down at me with a flash of guilt. "I haven't visited in a long time, and I had no idea Dad had deteriorated."

  Sissy threw back her champagne. "He hides it from you. Doesn't want you thinking you can steal his job."

  Devlin's face went deep scarlet and his eyes nearly closed.

  "I'm trying to help the family business. I'm not trying to steal anything. You don't know what's going on; you're not there every day. I am."

  "You have always been a better playboy than businessman, Devlin. Convince him to sell with me and get back to doing what you do best." She tossed her hand in my direction like she was trying to shoo away a fly.

  Her perfect blonde hair was in the perfect place. Her forty-year-old skin pulled back just enough to look like a thirty-year-old with functional plastic surgery.

  I touched my hair that matched her shade and realized I hated blonde hair more than ever.

  "Sell?!"

  Devlin thrust himself from his seat, sending the table shaking.

  "Who said anything about selling?"

  Sissy looked like an archer that had hit her mark. A slow, self-satisfied smirk crossed her face.

  "You think you're the only one that has a stake in this business, Devlin? Just because I'm not there in New York, privy to the day to day minutiae doesn't mean it's not my concern."

  Devlin's eyes grew stormy, and the tornado was aimed right at his sister. I pulled back to avoid being sucked into the caustic spiral.

  "And j
ust what is your concern, Sissy?"

  "From what I see, we're going to be dinosaurs soon. I saw the news–it does make it out to California, you know."

  Devlin whistled out an annoyed hoot. "You mean between yoga classes and kale smoothies, you catch the Kardashians talking about it? I live and breathe that business every day. We need to make some big decisions, but Somerset Industry is not for sale. That’s FINAL."

  She laughed, bitter sounding and brittle. "We'll see about that."

  Chapter 25

  I excused myself from the table to go hang out with the kids and Mr. Somerset, and to make a snowman. It had to be way more fun than playing in this minefield with these Somersets.

  I switched into some suitable snow-romping clothes and joined the group in the yard.

  I really had a good time with the children, and enjoyed pelting them with snowballs since they were new to this environment. I could easily win. They laughed and threw the soft snowballs with glee, but they didn't know about mixing them with a little ice to make them really hurt. I wasn't about to share that.

  After we finished our snow fight, we got down to serious business and assembled a beautiful and symmetrical snowman. Mr. Somerset was directing the construction of the snowman parts in a very serious manner.

  The children had never seen snow, so they were over the moon playing in the winter wonderland.

  I even taught them how to do snow angels, and before long, we had fifty angels between the five of us. Even Mr. Somerset got in a good snow angel before Jeeves urged him off the ground and back to directing from the chair they had brought down for him.

  About an hour later, Alice came to retrieve us from our snow play, announcing it was time for the Christmas cookie baking lessons.

  Only rich people.

  '

  Chapter 26

  The kitchen hummed with activity. Pierre, the chef, had arranged for his dear friends, the Landers sisters, to visit and show us the proper way to make a Christmas cutout cookie.