Husband For Hire (A Billionaire Fake Marriage Romance) Read online

  Blake’s lips stretched into a grin, and he nodded again. “Yeah,” he said slowly, a twinkle in his eye. “I sure could use that money.”

  “So is that a yes?” I asked in a hopeful tone.

  He shook his head. “Not yet. Let’s eat first, and I’ll think about it.”

  I smiled. “Okay. Fair enough.”

  So far, so good. I still wasn’t necessarily a huge fan of Blake, but at the same time, he seemed to be taking me seriously, and he wasn’t being a total asshole about it all. It was a lot more than I’d expected. Perhaps he’d grown up more than I originally thought he had.

  “How many people watch this network?” he asked. “Demographics and so on?”

  “I’ll have a look,” I said, pulling out my phone and doing a quick internet search.

  “I’m just wondering what kind of people would be watching this show,” he said. “I generally like to keep a low profile, and a reality show is the exact opposite of that. But it really depends on the average viewer they get.”

  I read from my phone screen. “Apparently their last reality show about couples averaged two million viewers a week and appealed mostly to men and women aged eighteen to twenty-seven, and also women aged fifty-five and above.”

  Blake nodded. “All right. And what about our friends and family? What if they watch and wonder why the hell we’re on TV pretending to be married?”

  “Well, obviously we’d tell the truth to anyone we’re close to and trust enough to keep our secret. Before the show starts, that is. As for everyone else…well, they’ll just have to assume we’re really married and they weren’t invited to our wedding.” I stuck my tongue out.

  He grinned. “Nice.”

  A waitress delivered two giant platters of barbeque ribs with potato wedges and blue cheese dressing on the side, and my mouth practically watered at the sight of it. “Oh my god. This looks amazing!”

  “It is. Best fucking food in the city,” Blake said, popping a wedge in his mouth. “Anyway, I have a question.”

  I nodded. “Shoot.”

  “Why me, Indi?”

  “Huh?”

  “For the show. Why’d you pick me as the person to ask? I mean, we haven’t seen each other in years. We were never exactly friends, either.”

  “I know. I was just Dawson’s kid sister,” I said. The dejection in my own tone surprised me. Was I still not past that yet? Surely I was.

  “I didn’t mean it like that. But my question still stands. Why me? You finally decided you wanted to have a go at me or something?”

  I frowned. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

  He leaned forward with a conspiratorial smile on his face. “Oh, c’mon, Indi. You had the biggest crush on me when you were a kid.”

  “I did not,” I said stiffly.

  He lifted one playful brow. “Really?”

  “Yes, really!” I insisted. “You were actually my last choice for the show,” I added in a small act of defiance, hoping it would wipe the smarmy look off his face.

  An amused grin quirked his lips up instead. “Oh?”

  I nodded vehemently as I quickly sucked a delicious rib into my mouth. “I wanted someone from my childhood, as per Cinta’s suggestion, and you were the only one living close enough to ask.”

  He winked. “Sure.”

  “It’s true!”

  “Just admit it, and I’ll accept the deal. I’ll say yes.”

  I sighed. “Admit what?”

  “You wanted me back then, and you want me now.”

  I scoffed. “You could try to be more wrong right now, but you wouldn’t be successful.”

  He laughed. “I don’t think I’m wrong. That’s why you’re asking me to be your fake husband for several weeks if we get accepted to the show. I mean, I’m sure if we do, we’ll have to share a nice, cozy little room on the island, right?”

  He winked, and I let out another deep sigh. There it was—the old Blake had finally showed up. Why on earth did I actually think he would’ve matured enough to do me a huge favor like this without being a cocky asshole?

  Oh, wait, I didn’t. Not really. This was all Cinta and Dawson’s idea.

  “If you must know, Blake, I didn’t have a crush on you back then, and I certainly don’t now. In fact, I couldn’t stand you when we both lived in Lakewater.”

  “Fascinating. Tell me why,” Blake replied. I could tell from his mocking tone that he found my attitude toward him deeply amusing, and it really pissed me off. He was as cocky as ever.

  “You really wanna know?” I said, eager to take him down a peg or two. I couldn’t stand arrogant men who thought everyone automatically wanted them.

  “I do. Enlighten me.”

  “Fine. You were a sleazy man-whore even at the age of eighteen, and I thought that was gross. I’m sure things haven’t changed all that much, especially judging by what you’ve been saying for the last couple of minutes. You clearly think you’re god’s gift to women, and you also genuinely seem to think it’s impossible for me to not want you.”

  “People change.”

  I snorted. “Not people like you. Literally one of the first things you said to me when we got here was a comment about my ass.”

  He laughed. “True, but it’s a great ass. Can’t blame me for commenting on it. Doesn’t mean I’m a dirty sleaze like you seem to be implying.”

  I rolled my eyes. Jesus. How did we get here so fast? Just five minutes ago things seemed to be progressing nicely. Aside from the initial ass comment, Blake had been pretty respectful and listened to me politely as I explained the show and my proposal for a fake marriage. But now? He was right back to his old douchebag ways. It was almost enough to make me forget the rare few times he’d actually been nice to me when I was young, like the little incident I remembered as I stepped in here today.

  “Look, are you interested or not?” I asked, beyond annoyed. The only reason I was still sitting here was out of pure desperation. If Blake didn’t say yes, then I was out of options, and I wouldn’t be able to get on the show.

  If he did say yes, however, then our current sparring match could actually play in our favor. The show was technically for married couples who had issues and wanted to work on repairing them, and hell, Blake and I looked like we had issues with each other in spades.

  “I told you, I’m thinking about it,” he finally replied.

  “Well, I need to use the bathroom. You can think about it by yourself for a minute while I’m gone.”

  Blake wasn’t listening anymore. He was looking past me, over my shoulder, and I turned to see a cute redheaded waitress bending over a nearby table with a tray. She was wearing a short, tight skirt, and anyone with half-decent vision could see up it enough to catch a glimpse of her aqua-green lace panties. I rolled my eyes. Of course.

  I threw my napkin down. “Not a sleaze, huh?”

  Blake’s eyes snapped back to me. “What?”

  “You didn’t even hear what I said! You were too busy staring at that waitress’s ass.”

  He chuckled. “Actually, I did hear you, and I was looking past her at that sign over there,” he said, pointing behind me. “You said you needed the bathroom, and I couldn’t remember exactly where the ladies’ room is, so I was figuring it out for you.”

  I whirled around again and followed his gaze. He was right. Just beyond the waitress was a small sign with an arrow which read ‘Ladies’.

  My cheeks flamed as I turned back to Blake. “Oh. Sorry,” I muttered. I was being an asshole now, not him.

  “You were jealous, huh?” he said, leaning back in his chair and casually crossing his hands behind his head. “And to think you’re still claiming you never had a crush….”

  Apparently it was his turn to be an ass again. Great.

  I narrowed my eyes and stood up. “Okay, Blake. I’m going to walk away before I cram this entire rack of ribs down your throat and choke you.”

  “Maybe I’m into being choked.”
/>   I suppressed a smile, not wanting to admit that I actually found his stupid joke funny. “Of course you are, you animal.”

  He grinned. “Look at us. Already fighting like an old married couple. We’re perfect for this show of yours, I’ll give you that.”

  I sighed. “I’ll give you a few minutes, okay? If you think you can take a couple of months off your busy serial dating schedule, and you’re also interested in applying for the show with me, then let me know. If not, then….well, whatever. I’ll be back in five.”

  I stalked away to the bathroom and splashed my face with water while I waited out the next few minutes. Hm. Splashing my face to stop it from overheating seemed to be a common occurrence around Blake, as much as I hated to admit it.

  I stepped out the bathroom five minutes later and headed back to the table. Blake was polishing off his lunch and helping himself to my potato wedges at the same time. I slapped his hand away. “Hey! Get your paws off my food.”

  He grinned. “Shouldn’t you be nicer to the person who could still say no to you and your plan?”

  I sighed and pushed my plate toward him. “Fine. Have at it.”

  He pushed it back. “I was kidding. I think I made up my mind the second you told me your idea. I’ll do it.”

  My eyes widened, and I smiled despite myself. “You will?”

  He smiled back. “Yes, I’ll take some time off my incredibly ‘busy serial dating schedule’,” he said, putting my words in air quotes. Then he held up a hand. “But only if I can use my mother’s maiden name as my surname on the fake marriage certificate and the show itself.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Why?”

  “I don’t want to be easily recognized by anyone who happens to know me.”

  “Er…pretty sure anyone who’s gonna recognize you will be able to do so just from seeing you on TV, genius.”

  “Maybe not. I could just happen to look familiar, but if they don’t see the exact same name, they’re less likely to realize that it’s definitely me. Like I said, I like to keep a pretty low profile.”

  I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. “Anyone would think you had something to hide, with the way you’re acting. But yes, fine, you can use a different name.”

  There was that smile again. That damn cocky smile. “So we have a deal?” he asked.

  “We do.” I pulled out my purse and slapped a few notes down on the table to cover my share of our lunch. “Drew will be helping us with the marriage certificate thing in two days. You don’t have to be there. You can just text me the last name you want on it, and I’ll fill it out for you.”

  “No, I’ll be there. Just tell me where and when.”

  I nodded. “Okay. Sure. When that’s done, we can also go through the application together and send it off.” I bit my lower lip for a second. “And…um…thanks, Blake.”

  “For what?” he asked, his eyes gleaming.

  “For doing this. I don’t think many people would’ve said yes to something so wild and crazy.”

  “I like wild and crazy,” he replied. “And for the record, I can’t think of a single man who’d say no to being your husband.”

  I laughed despite myself. “Fake husband. It’s not real.”

  “It’s as real as we make it, Ms. Fiancée.”

  “Call me that again, and I’ll call off the fake wedding,” I said jokingly. I stood up, turning to the side as I stuffed my purse back into my overflowing handbag. “Anyway, I better head back to the store. I might actually get one or two customers this afternoon.”

  Blake nodded. “All right. It was really good to see you again, Indi,” he said softly. Then he raised his eyebrows and looked down to my ass. “It was even better seeing that again.”

  I shook my head and rolled my eyes, but as I stepped away, I made sure to put a teensy little wiggle in my step, just to tease him.

  What can I say? His cocky attitude was getting to me, making me just as bad as him.

  “I can’t wait to see even more of it once we get on the show,” Blake called out as I crossed the restaurant.

  “Bye, Blake,” I replied, not looking back at him. If I did, he’d see my fire-engine red face.

  With the way my future fake husband was behaving, this reality show adventure was already shaping up to be a long, long ride….

  As I headed back to my car, the last half an hour flashed through my head, and I wondered if any of this was a good idea. No, probably not. It was all absurd. Totally crazy. What the hell did I just get myself into?

  I guess I was going to find out pretty damn soon.

  Chapter Five

  Blake

  Two golden-tanned topless girls frolicked on my home office computer screen, giggling as they stripped each other of their red panties and ran their tongues over a tall man’s chest and arms. I sat and watched, bored out of my skull.

  I used to like this kind of shit. Used to like being able to undo my belt and whack one off whenever I felt like it. It was all right there at the click of a button—some of the world’s hottest women, cavorting nude and getting fucked hard right here on my PC screen.

  And now it did nothing for me.

  I sighed and paused the video, wondering what the hell was wrong with me. I’d been like this for a week and a half now—almost close to two, actually—and it showed no signs of letting up.

  A notification buzzed on my phone on the other side of my desk, and I picked it up with a disinterested grunt, assuming it was work stuff. As if I hadn’t already put in enough hours at the company, now I was getting harassed at midnight. I needed a break more than ever.

  I was pleasantly surprised to see that the message was from Indi instead, and I was even more pleasantly surprised by the content.

  Sorry to message so late. But….we got in! The acceptance emails just got sent out. OMG. I can’t believe we actually did it!

  I raised a brow and texted back. Really?

  We’d gone through the application process a while ago now, on the same day that Dawson’s partner Drew helped us out with the marriage certificate. We had to fill out details such as the length of our relationship, what issues we were having, and what we’d like to resolve, along with the basics of how we met and how we ended up together. We also had to make a little application video of ourselves, which we hadn’t realized until halfway through the application process, but we made it work with Indi’s phone camera.

  I guess she and her friends were right—the showrunners liked a classic childhood sweethearts story.

  Indi’s reply came through a second later. Yes!!

  Well, shit. We made it. We actually fooled the showrunners into thinking we were married, and now we were off to the gorgeous northern paradise that was Fremantle Island. I’d done some Googling, and the place was right up my alley. Dark forests, hiking trails, blue-grey skies, and a little harbor with an array of boats dotting the surrounding ocean. It was the exact kind of place I’d usually go camping at to relax—minus the island part. I’d never done that—and I was surprised I’d never heard of the place before.

  I made a mental checklist of what had to happen now. Firstly, I had to get the board to approve the time off for my extended vacation, as it started filming in just a few weeks. Taking two and a half months off at such short notice wasn’t easy for a person in my position, but luckily, it wasn’t impossible. That’s the good thing about being in charge. People might not like it, but there’s still always a way to get what you want.

  Secondly, I had to make sure none of them knew exactly why I was taking the time off. They knew I kept a low profile (actually, they insisted on it, as young wealthy men usually tended to do the opposite and dominate the society pages of every paper, and any small scandal could rock the boat in terms of company shareholders) and going on a reality show wasn’t exactly keeping a low profile. It was the complete opposite, in fact.

  I’d done some research of my own into the demographics of the channel’s typical reality shows, and it seemed
unlikely anyone from the Washington business world would view such a show. Apparently, the vast majority of the viewers came from the Eastern and Midwestern states, and they were usually younger people or middle-aged housewives who loved a bit of TV reality drama.

  Also, I was using a different last name while I participated on it, and I was going to be dressed down in jeans and sweats as opposed to the usual suits I wore at work. If I coupled that with the fact that 99.99% of people had no idea who I really was anyway, I was pretty sure I would be safe. I might look familiar to some people, but not enough to make them wonder all that much.

  Think about it. There were currently 540 billionaires in the US alone, and over ten million millionaires. How many of them could you name? Not many, that’s for sure. Certainly not all of them.

  Most super-wealthy people flew under the radar like I did, and people could walk right past them in the streets without knowing who they were. That’s pretty much what I was counting on to get me through this reality show process without anyone realizing exactly who I was.

  I hoped it didn’t all blow up in my face, but hell, even if it did… it was worth it for a few weeks with Indi.

  She really surprised me when we first met up the other day. When she was young, she was so damn innocent. So sweet and lovely. That was all well and good, and from the minute she turned into a young woman, I wanted her and often thought of her. Never as more than a drifting fantasy though, because I never thought I’d actually get her. Especially after we both moved out of town around about the same time. It was like our ship had sailed, and Indi would never be anything more than a distant fantasy.

  Things were different now, and fuck, I more than wanted her. I craved her. Needed her. She was still a young woman, but she wasn’t so innocent these days. She was all grown up and sexy as hell, and she was capable of all sorts of devious plans. Like this fake marriage scheme, for instance.

  No, she certainly wasn’t so sweet and innocent anymore.

  It was hot as hell.

  Suddenly I knew what I was missing. Knew why I couldn’t get off to the shitty pornos on my computer screen. Those women were hot, sure. But they weren’t Indi. As long as she was stuck on my mind like this, other lithe bodies weren’t gonna do jack-shit for me.