Page 12 of The Billionaire's Fake Fiancée

I pluck it back. “He offered it to me.” And in fact, I feel that I’d be brilliant at it.

Through gritted teeth, she says, “Yet somehow you are managing to sound like you don’t want it.” She widens her eyes at the check that is now in my impoverished little fingers, like maybe I didn’t see the number of zeroes. Like maybe I didn’t notice that and I should look again.

“Well, maybe I’m kicking the tires,” I answer through gritted teeth.

“Well…” she says, again through gritted teeth. Again she widens her eyes. She has sparkly eye shadow on. Sparkliness is something we bond over. “Maybe don’t kick a dent in the car itself?”

Clark clears his throat. “And now I’m going to have to ask you to sign that NDA, too, Jada,” he says. And then he gives me a hard look, like it’s my fault I share a tiny apartment with my galpal whose room is five feet away.

I say, “It’s cone of silence here, you don’t have to worry.”

“Cone of silence!” Jada says. “The total cone is all around us.”

“I’m afraid the cone of silence doesn’t hold up in a court of law,” he says. “So we’re gonna go with an NDA.” He whips another sheet of paper out and hands it to Jada, along with a pen. I turn so she can use my back to sign it.

“I need you both to honor this,” he warns.

“Cone of silence is more powerful than your court of law, buddy,” Jada says. “Either way, you can trust us.”

“I’m sorry, I swear…we’re both very trustworthy.” I do a hasty sign of the cross, or at least what I remember of it from movies. “I’m very serious about secrets. I always keep my clients’ things confidential. I have clients with nose hair and ear hair and weaves and all that. I never talk about it.”Exceptright now.“Not that I’m saying for sure that I have clients with nose hair or ear hair or weaves. Um…come sit.” I can’t ruin this. I really need the money.

I lead him to our tiny living room and clear some pillows and our bedazzling stuff off the couch.

Jada makes another face at me. Because, that check!

Clark sits down, managing to make our sweet little red couch look somehow shabby, and tells me the terms. The length of time requested is sixteen days—two days for travel on either side, fourteen for the yacht itself.

“Okay, objection.” Jada puts up her hands. “Are we clear this is platonic? Because my galpal’s sexual favors would cost way more than this.”

“Let’s be clear here,” I say. “No check is enough for this galpal’s sexual favors. I would never do that.”

“Well,” Jada says. “I mean, five million dollars? Maybe?”

I lower my voice. “He’s not asking for sexual favors.”

“But like…five mil.”

“Ladies, this is absolutely not about sexual favors,” Clark says.

Jada and I exchange glances.Ladies. The 1950s called. They want their term forwomenback.

“This is, in actuality, a very boring assignment,” Clark continues. “You’ll have a suite with Rex, it’s true, but there will be a bedroom that will be all yours. And you’ll make occasional on-deck appearances with him for dinner and other obligatory upper-deck activities, and otherwise you will promise to spend your time in that room where you’re free to watch TV and read or whatever you like. And you are specifically forbidden to speak with Rex or interact with him in any way when not playing the role in public.”

“Forbidden to speak with him?” I ask, incredulously.

“Forbidden—I really can’t stress that enough. He has very important work to accomplish on the ship, and he is not to be bothered. You’re to deal with me for needs and questions. Think of us as co-workers, you and I, working together to create the illusion of Rex settling down with a woman who’s very different from his usual type. He wants to show this client the image of a family man. The marrying kind of man.”

“Oh, I get it,” I say, as it all becomes clear. “This is about the article. Repairing his image.”

“That would be part of the goal, yes,” Clark says. “The article was in no way accurate, and you’ll be helping to portray that.”

I experience this stupid level of relief to hear Clark say that. Rex is a gruff person with commitment issues, yes, but he’s the kind of guy who owns what he is—that’s something I appreciate about him, whereas the article made him out to be some kind of cruel, power-drunk playboy. So wrong. And he thinks I can help him with that.

Well, he’s right. I can!

“That article was a real hatchet job,” Jada says sympathetically. “Someone has it out for Captain Sternpants, huh?”

Clark’s lip quirks. “Excuse me?”

---