Page 134 of The Billionaire's Fake Fiancée

“The woman I brought on the yacht,” I say.

“Wait—the fake fiancée?” Ivan straightens. “I thought you picked her specifically because she was annoying and repugnant. Are you telling me you hit that?” Ivan’s laughing. “A few days on the boat and you’re banging the woman you chose specifically for her repugnant qualities? That’s pathetic, man.”

“There’s nothing repugnant about her,” I say. “Or annoying. I got it wrong.”

My guys are watching me now. I have their attention.

“I got her wrong. All of it,” I add.

Ivan is laughing. “Well, that’s a hell of a thing to get wrong.”

Clark gives him a warning look, shakes his head. Ivan, of course, ignores him.

“Thehairdresser,” Ivan says.

“You got something to say about hairdressers?”

Ivan holds up his hands.

“Have you tried to get in contact with her at all?” Clark asks.

I close my eyes. “Yes.” I don’t like to show vulnerability, even to my oldest friends. That’s the culture I came up in, but maybe I just don’t want to be alone with it anymore.

I order another round and I tell Ivan what an asshole I was, how I mocked the things Tabitha loves, ridiculed her theories, made a list of the characteristics of her that I thought I hated, and how it turns out I actually might love those things.

Clark chimes in, painting the scene when she saw the list. I tell Ivan how we ended up having an amazing connection, even after she discovered the list, but how she won’t let it be more than a vacation fling. She refused my offer of a birthday dinner next week, a cocktail, a simple walk in the park.

“Guys have done nothing but let her down, and I’m asking her to trust the man who wrote the hate list?” I say. “No wonder she doesn’t trust me.”

“She wants to protect her heart,” Clark says.

“Exactly,” I say.

“But think about it,” Clark says. “You don’t have to protect your heart from somebody you don’t care about. And I saw you two together. She had you sitting in hot tubs and cabanas and laughing and doing ridiculous shit during trading hours.”

“During trading hours?” Ivan says. “New York trading hours? Jesus Christ.”

“Even so, what does it matter?” I say. “She won’t trust me.”

“You’re the turnaround king,” Ivan says. “Turn it around. You say it’s her birthday next week? Make her go out with you. Show her how it can be.”

“Have you been listening?” I say. “She won’t go out with me ever, and she definitely wouldn’t go out with me on her birthday.”

Ivan gets his Cheshire cat smile. “She’d go out with you on her birthday if she had to. If she had no choice.” He pauses, sits back, crosses his legs. It’s his legal checkmate attitude. “I helped you write the contract. In the three months after the yacht trip, she is bound by the terms to show up with you at up to three important public occasions or forfeit all monies. Important occasion as defined by you. What could be more important than a birthday?”

“You’re telling me to force her to go out with me on her birthday?”

“It’s exactly what I’m telling you,” Ivan says. “She could choose to say no and give back the money and face legal action, of course. She has to go. It gives you another chance to make your case.”

“Wait, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” Clark says.

“If she won’t see you, what do you have to lose?” Ivan says, playing the devil on my shoulder.

“Wait, are you considering it?” Clark says. “She’ll be pissed.”

“So get her an amazing gift,” Ivan counters.

“Hmm,” I say.

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