Page 5 of Shameless
As he spoke, every sound was crisp. “That I’m Michael Fuller, the heir to the Duke of Fairdall.”
My hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I took my hand back. Honestly, I preferred he be poor and cute, with that accent. I would've hated to lump him into "Eurotrash," as my parents would say, which was basically the Europeans who come to America, use our system to their own benefit, not contribute to society at all, then ditch while looking down their noses at America and all Americans. I quickly shook the thought away. His having money didn’t change his character.
I choked out, “Heir?”
He was unreadable as he said, “Yes. I’m currently the Marquis of Barkley until my father leaves this world.”
I stood and paced. Normally, when I needed to deal with a problem, I figured out what the client needed, listen to objections, and when they were ready, we discussed the financials to serve their desires. Michael’s announcement threw everything out of whack.
“I thought you were a butler,” I said.
“I am a butler.”
Okay. I nodded. Maybe I was wrong, but maybe I wasn’t.
I said, “So you’re bankrupt.”
He shook his head and watched me like I was amusing him so I stopped moving.
He said, “No. I now have a trillion in my accounts from investing with the Norouzi family for a decade now. My accounts were in the billions, but I have earned more since leaving England.”
My head spun, so I retook my seat. I needed to process but while I focused on my white ceiling, I asked, “Why the fuck are you living as a butler, making my best friend toast?”
“Until a month ago, living there wasn’t an issue. Charlie was never home, and I enjoyed college with Kir and Charlie years ago. They let me crash there as they understood I wasn’t going home.”
That explained nothing. I rubbed my forehead and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He let out a sigh and said, “You weren’t interested in dating me, and we never ended up talking when I came over.”
I laughed. I was always the one with the fun plans, who took charge. Staring at him, I asked, “So since we’re not married or anything, we’re off the hook of the whole heir thing?”
“No. You came into my life at the perfect time, and I need a new plan.”
That started with how I was going to choose to live my life next. Maybe I didn’t need to sell. I could redecorate and stay in the city. My life as one of those Real Housewives flashed in front of me. If I binged, maybe I could find a new character to model the next chapter of my life after. One of them had been a countess for a while, if I remembered correctly, though I hadn’t watched enough to form a new life for myself to start living.
No. I wasn’t there for his money. I would get another job. However, since all the Norouzis knew about Michael and since Kelly was terrible with secrets, we needed to come clean. I hated lying. I met his gaze and wondered if he would be with me on this one.
“Let’s start with you coming downstairs to tell everyone you’re the father,” I said.
He stood. “Done. Take my arm.”
For the moment, I was still the Samantha that everyone thought I was, with my pseudonym, Britney Carlyle. I met his gaze and said, “This whole ordering-me-around thing you just did is weird.”
He held the door for me and said, “We’ll switch places again when you’re ready.”
Nothing was ever going to be the same. I hadn't, in fact, screwed the help, and for once in my life, I had no picture in my head of who to be and how to act. I was lost.
Chapter Two
Michael
* * *
A few weeks ago, when Kir told me my sister was in town, I’d known my time left in the US was limited. Responsibilities to my lands, title, and family were growing as I neared thirty, and I still hadn’t returned home since the age of eighteen. I’d focused on ensuring I had the money to fix whatever they did without actually financing their uncontrolled spending. The time had come to let everyone know that I was alive and well and that when the titles were fully mine, I would be able to pay for things on my own. At the same time, what had kept me staying where I was for weeks was Britney.
Sneaking over to her house at all times and hours was exciting and a secret that kept me aching for more.
I’d never been used for sex. Until Britney, I’d probably used others, but once she was done with me, she generally kicked me out with a promise to text when we could see each other again.
