My Billionaire Fake Fiance

by Linda West

  Carol came over and gave me one of her bear hugs. She squeezed hard, and I let her. Ethel waved to me as I struggled for breath over her shoulder, and I smiled back at her. Of course, I bought some cookies when I was there.

  Devlin looked down at me with the bag and arched one brow. "More Marry Me Blueberry Crumble?"

  I croaked out a little odd laugh. "Just innocent cookies hopefully." I avoided his knowing eyes and looked around at anything but his hunky body in the flannel shirt and tight jeans.

  He laughed at my un-comfortableness with his closeness. Jerk obviously knew the effect he had on women.

  I searched for something to look at other than Devlin. One shop, in particular, caught my attention. It had handmade ornaments and natural-looking shirts and hoodies—just the kind of down-to-earth gifts I wanted to get for the over-indulged Somerset family.

  I dragged Devlin over and perused the lovely organic goods. "Now these are the kind of ornaments we need to offset all the glitz of that Hollywood horror you call a Christmas tree."

  "I'm sure our decorator would love that— shabby chic; emphasis on shabby."

  I shushed him and held up one of the ornaments in the shape of a pine tree and admired it. "This is chic. This is where it's at, Devlin. Natural, not fake."

  I glanced at the salesgirl's braids and dishwater blonde hair and yearned for my own locks that felt like real hair instead of hay.

  I asked the girl, “Are these sweaters made from cotton?"

  "Hemp, actually." She smiled back.

  "Hemp? Wow, it feels great." I marveled.

  "Yes, now it's legal again; we are one of the first farms in Vermont to switch over and grow hemp full time."

  I admired the beauteous items. "Look, Devlin, how lovely." I elbowed him, and he sneered at me.

  He looked at them reluctantly. "I guess they do have a certain homespun charm." He tossed his glorious mane, darn him, and said, "I prefer gold or silver–primarily platinum."

  I looked at the girl. "We'll take all the ornaments you have and ten sweaters."

  Devlin was chatting with neighbors and sipping on a hot chocolate. I held out my hand.

  "What?"

  "Credit card, honey?" I smiled, sugar-sweetly.

  He raised his eyebrows and fished out his black and gold card with a grimace.

  I shook my head. "Cheapo, stop acting like you're poor."

  He snorted. "I'm not cheap."

  I beamed as the girl put all of the items into boxes. I'd hope to teach the spoiled Somersets about the beauty of natural things and the true meaning of Christmas.

  The young girl had almost finished packing the gifts into the bags when she said, "So many things we can make out of hemp now. We have a website if you want to check it out."

  I nodded. "I will."

  She continued, "Even these boxes are made of hemp." She packed an ornament into one.

  I stopped. "Excuse me. What did you say?"

  "These boxes." She pointed at my bag. "All of them are made of hemp."

  I threw both my hands in the air and knocked Devlin's hot cocoa all over his camel coat.

  He glared at me, and then stared down at the brown splotches that dappled his expensive coat.

  "What’s wrong with you?" he hissed like I was insane.

  I waved a box in front of him.

  "Hemp! Hemp! Hemp! Hemp! Hemp!"

  I started jumping up and down and waving my hands and even threw in some twerking.

  He pulled me to the side. "I'm sorry," he whispered to the girl. "Allie, settle down. People are looking."

  "Devlin, don't you see? This is the answer! The answer to it all!"

  Devlin did not see. He pointed to the spot on his coat. "This is Versace."

  I waved away his stains and held up one of my packages and examined the box with glee. "I had forgotten all about hemp because it wasn't legal for so long and the import tax from Canada…"

  Devlin glared at me.

  "Hemp! "I screamed at him like he was deaf. He put a finger in his ear and shook his head.

  "Devlin, this is it. I did my thesis on hemp. For every one acre of hemp, it takes five acres of trees to produce the same thing because it's a weed!"

  Devlin rubbed his brow and looked around, embarrassed. "Let's go to the inn and get you a nice glass of wine; you're getting worked up." He pushed me toward Wino's, the local wine shop. I stuck my boot heels in.

  "You don't see!" I looked up at him. "Hemp and wood both break down into cellulose–once that's done, all the same machines, all the work, is the same."

  I grabbed Devlin with both my hands. "I don't remember the exact numbers, but hemp is a fraction of the cost of trees to produce the same product–and better yet–less than plastic!"

  Devlin's eyes widened. The possibilities were beginning to dawn on him.

  "Less than plastic? Are you sure?"

  I nodded like a bobble head out of control. "Yes! Cheaper than plastic bubble envelopes that pollute all the oceans and…"

  He clapped his hand on my mouth, and I glared at him. He leaned in closer.

  "You're saying if we make our boxes out of hemp instead of trees, we could undercut not only our box competition but plastic as well? Are you sure?"

  I nodded and removed his hand. "Yes, without a doubt. And no jobs need to be lost! It might take a moment to transition over your fields from trees to fully hemp, but the workers and machines don't need any replacing! You could skyrocket Somerset Industries into the future as a worldwide leader in environmental packaging and beat all your competition!"

  He looked at me intensely. "I'd have to see the numbers."

  I nodded. "Of course."

  "I have a team for that," he said as he stroked his cleft chin.

  I dragged my eyes away from the cleft magnet and said, "It just might be enough of a new idea to win over your father."

  A light went off in his eyes, and he nodded and smiled at me.

  "It just might be at that."

  Chapter 33

  It was a glorious night. The stars were shining, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky.

  Devlin had hooked up an old-fashioned sleigh ride with a team of ponies, and he was riding them all about the property to the delight of the children.

  I waved to them from the balcony, and they slid over the vast, snow-covered lawn, laughing and waving.

  I planned to work on my formal dancing alone in the room while everyone was occupied. The constant acting job was wearing on me, and I needed some serious alone time.

  I attempted to slip away and upstairs to our room when Sissy reached out and grabbed my hand. I hadn't even seen her lurking around the balcony, but she snuck up on me like a bad cold.

  I smiled as sweetly as I could muster and said I was retiring, but she wasn't letting me get away. I glanced at Devlin driving the sleigh and wished I had gone along. Now I was stuck with Sissy.

  She suggested we visit the stables while the rest of the family was busy. I couldn't figure out any way to get out of it, so I went along.

  "I thought we might take a stroll on the horses together and…bond." But she cooed at me in lava tones. I didn't think that was such a great idea at all. I had visions of me feeding a carrot to Daisy and hightailing it back to my room ASAP.

  We entered the stables, and the memories of riding and dancing with Devlin last night floated through my thoughts like a warm summer breeze. I guessed I might be able to handle a short walk on Daisy. Maybe Devlin would be impressed with my efforts?

  Not that I cared.

  Roy stepped out of his office and tipped his hat, and then his eyes widened when he saw it was the two of us. He looked back and forth between the horses and us.

  "When Mrs. Albridge told me to saddle up the horses, I thought…" Roy stopped.

  There were two massive thoroughbred horses saddled and ready to go. They snorted and stamped at the ground like rodeo bulls itching to get lose and gore someone.

  I looked for an exit. />
  "Should I saddle up Daisy?” Roy asked uncertainly.

  I nodded enthusiastically.

  Sissy brushed his suggestion away. "Of course not. Daisy is for babies. Lightning and Gypsy will be perfect."

  I gulped. Roy was making a tight line with his lips I didn't like at all.

  Then Sissy's skinny talon was on my back, patting me awkwardly. "Let's ride and continue getting to know each other better.”

  I put on a practiced casualness. "Riding is really not my forte."

  She raised a brow. "Big word for you, nice job."

  I bit my lip. "Sure is snowy out," I hissed. Instead of beating her about the head with a stick. I looked around. Any stick would do.

  Two hundred thousand dollars. Two hundred thousand dollars. Two hundred thousand dollars.

  Gosh, darn it. I had to get out of this! These horses looked ready to run the Kentucky Derby! I doubted riding one of them would be anything like riding gentle Daisy. Escape plans drifted through my head. Heart attack? Important call? PMS?

  Help!

  I glanced at Sissy, and she was studying me like I was a biology experiment. "I know you from somewhere." She squeezed her eyes into tiny slits.

  Code RED!

  I dipped my head down to hide my Betty Boop googly eyes, because those I couldn't disguise. I focused on petting one of the horses instead, and it chomped at me nastily with its big horsey teeth. I pulled my hand back intact, luckily. PMS it was.

  "You know, I'm really bloated." I made a face and grabbed my stomach. "Period pains."

  Sissy smiled at me with a look that told me I wasn't pulling anything over on her. "Roy, be a good man and go fetch my Vicodin for Miss –"

  She stopped. "You know, I don't believe you told me your last name. What is it?" She dropped the question like she had scored some point.

  Shoot. Why the heck did Devlin and I not go over this? It seemed any conversation with Sissy was a ticking bomb waiting to explode. I hoped to goodness she wasn't tricking me and that she hadn't already quizzed Devlin. Gosh, darn her.

  My heart beat fast, and I spit out my mom's maiden name. "Trudeau."

  She raised one brow.

  I realized at that moment that this little tete-a-tete at the stable was actually her way of cornering me into a private interrogation.

  The horses snorted and pawed and Roy gestured with his hat. "They haven't been exercised since the heavy snow. Maybe I can take them out first and help let off some of their steam. Or I can saddle up some less feisty alternatives."

  He looked down at me questioningly and then back at the spirited animals chewing on the bit behind him.

  "These are perfect, Ray," Said Sissy.

  "Roy," he corrected with a tip of his hat.

  "She can ride Gypsy, Roy, and I'll ride Thunder."

  "Lightning, you mean,” said Roy, but Sissy didn’t listen. "Devlin gushed about what an equestrian you were," She said.

  I screwed up my face. Was she referring to Sofia? I wracked my memories and remembered some tabloid splashed across with the pair riding through central park on horses.

  "I …" I mumbled stupidly, trying to concoct a way to escape this. I had no idea Devlin had told her about ours or other relationships. Any moment alone with Sissy was dangerous. She seemed bent on proving that we were faking our love–and of course, she was right.

  Sissy hoisted herself up onto her mountainous steed effortlessly and then leaned over and looked down at me like I was a peasant on the ground.

  "Admit it. You and my brother concocted this whole charade."

  I glanced at Roy, and he was staring at me with big don't-do-it eyes.

  Right, Roy, I agree I sent him telepathically. Now if you could just turn around so I could grab her boot and body slam her to the floor like a hockey player that would be great. I'll take the penalty over riding the death beast.

  "It's nothing personal, dear.” Sissy just had to keep talking. "You're obviously not in our class – certainly not right for my brother. Why don't you tell me what service he bought you from? Escort? Fill in Secretary? Maid? Nothing personal."

  I guess the gloves were off. Figuratively of course, because it was darn freezing and you bet I had on physical ones.

  "Personal," I said with a toss of my new white straw hair. "How could I not take you telling me I'm pond scum personally?"

  How dare she? If Sissy Somerset was going to poor shame me, I would be darned if she did it while she looked down at me from some stallion like the Queen of Sheba!

  I glanced at the horses and then back at Roy. Even if I wanted to act cool, I didn't even know how to get up on a horse that giant. Thankfully, Roy saw my dilemma and rushed over to give me a leg up on the horse.

  "Good luck," he whispered.

  Soon I was eye to eye with my attacker.

  I glanced down uneasily at the golden-colored horse moving about restlessly beneath me. I picked up the reins as Devlin had taught me and tried to calm myself. Well, I had the sitting thing down okay. I managed to straighten and put on my best Downton Abbey expression of haughty disdain.

  "Money doesn't equate with class," I said. "And being able to ride around on some animal doesn't make you better than anyone else."

  "Said the girl who can't ride," she spat back condescendingly.

  My face flamed.

  "Don't deny it," she laughed. "A ruse by my brother no doubt to make Father think you could ride. Part of your bigger plan to con my ailing father out of his own business. You should be ashamed of yourself, you social-climbing guttersnipe."

  Guttersnipe?

  Guttersnipe?

  I looked at Roy, and he was shaking his head.

  "Oooooh!” My mouth opened wide in anger. How dare that Sissy Somerset call me a guttersnipe!? It was on. Either I wrapped my hands around her neck, or I had to get away from her. I dug my heels into my horse in utter hubris and Gypsy sprang up with a leap and bolted straight out of the barn door.

  The horse cantered down the snowy path a good quarter mile before I could slow her down to a trot.

  "Whoa, whoa!" I said as I pulled back on the reins tightly. I was scared out of my mind. Daisy had been a rocking chair ride, but this wild thing was a Porsche!

  I tried to hold her back, but she was pulling at the bit, wanting to run. I let up the reins just a tad, and Gypsy took off again and galloped at full speed down the trail.

  I fought to keep my seat and grabbed fruitlessly for the saddle horn. But this was an English saddle that had no horns, or training wheels as I thought of it.

  I grabbed on with my thighs and struggled to get the spirited horse under control. When a bunny popped out of the brush, Gypsy came to an abrupt stop and went straight up on two legs.

  She halted so quickly, I nearly fell off. I scrambled back onto the seat and tried to regain my balance. I took a deep breath of relief and looked over my shoulder. Thankfully, Sissy hadn't seen my blundering. Maybe I had lost her. I looked around the dark pine forest. The moonlight filtered through the needles.

  I took some controlled breaths and considered riding off behind the barn and hiding where Sissy couldn't find me. Maybe she would think I went ahead and I just keep going?

  That's when I heard an ominous whistling through the pines. I felt the hair rise on my arms. Through the darkness came a blood-curdling scream and the sound of flying hoofs over hard snow.

  I looked through the trees, trying to see what was happening, when Sissy appeared like a banshee on her black horse, galloping at top speed in my direction.

  I didn't like the look of this.

  My horse must have felt it too, because she started doing this sidestepping nervous walk thing. Her eyes bulged, and she threw her head back and forth, snorting and pulling at the reins.

  I pulled her back and held on tight. "It's okay, girl, just hang on." I tried to calm her down, but my heart was beating so hard, I could barely breathe.

  Sissy approached us at full speed, and she swerved her stallion
to the side like a rodeo pro and rose up on two legs, angrily pawing at the air in my direction. Gypsy backed up in fear.

  I don't know if it was because of the way the other horse was jabbing his hoofs at us like Tyson, or the fact that Sissy had this demented screwed-up prune face on that made her look like The Scream painting.

  She shrieked, "You wanna throw down with me, you wanna be a Somerset? It's on!" With that, she pulled out a whip with a barb at the end and slapped my poor horse's butt wickedly hard.

  Poor Gypsy leaped straight up in the air in pain and then took off running up the trail into the dense, dark forest.

  "Stop!" I screamed, 'Whoa!" The world was hurtling by in a blur of white and pines. We were going so fast, it was utterly out of control. I ducked and avoided the big branches I could make out in the dark, but I got whipped repeatedly by the smaller ones.

  I was yelling, "Whoa! Whoa!" But the snapping twigs and thundering hooves drowned out my pleas. Somewhere along the way, I lost hold of the reins and grabbed onto Gypsy's mane and hung on for dear life.

  Through the thick pines, in the distance, I saw a clearing, and Sissy was already there waiting.

  "Help!" I screamed, as I burst into the clearing, still unable to stop the frightened horse.

  Sissy gave a self-satisfied smirk when she saw my desperation and the horse out of control.

  "The barn's right back there; it's hard to stop them when they know they're headed home." She dug both her heels into her horse with one nasty kick, and they raced off over the frozen field. Gypsy followed in their wake.

  I spotted the bright red tip of the barn in the distance. We must have been going 60 miles an hour, and I prayed I wouldn't fall off until we made it back to the barn.

  The barn was through the field, but it wasn't just a field. I blinked and focused ahead on what appeared to be a frozen stream. Rather than stopping, Sissy bolted right toward it!

  What was she doing? Was this crazy loon going to kill us both? We couldn't run over that ice–I could already see thin puddles on the top.