Chapter 10
IVY
“Wait, girl. Did I hear you right? You’re pretending to be engaged to Chase Hunter? The millionaire?” Gabriella’s mouth flies open, chow mein noodles hanging out the side of her mouth.
“Billionaire,” I correct, adjusting the video-chat screen on my home computer. “We leave for New York tomorrow morning.”
Gabriella tosses her hair back, surveys me through the screen. “Is he hot? I mean, I’ve never seen photos of him. His image is practically unsearchable.”
It’s true. You can find out a ton of information on the billionaire investment mogul, but none of that information points to a photograph. Not even a single social media profile can be found. “Yup, he’s pretty hot. Tall, dark…and arrogant.”
I dare not admit thoughts of Chase have been flashing through my mind like a collage of bedazzled memories. The protruding muscles underneath his shirt. That dapper smile. The fluctuating trill of his voice when he calls me Ms. Bloom. The chill that slithers up and down my spine from a simple whiff of his cologne. Chase Hunter has single-handedly turned the word ‘ham’ into an acronym for Hot. Ass. Man.
“Honey, they’re all arrogant at first—even Brad was in the beginning.” She takes a bite of an egg roll. “I thought he was the most haughty piece of sexy shit I’d ever come in contact with. Then, he became this kind, thoughtful guy, who I couldn’t get enough of. Next thing I knew, I was head over heels.”
I eyeball her, mostly because the takeout lunch she’s eating is making my mouth water. “Well, I can guarantee I won’t be falling head over heels. I’ve got a job to do, nothing more. Plus, you know I make it a point to never fall in love.”
Her wide-set eyes are speckled with bemusement. “Yeah, you avoid love as if it’s a communicable disease. But they don’t issue vaccinations for the love bug—sooner or later, you’ll catch it. Anyway, what did your mom say? Is she excited?”
“Ma doesn’t know and there’s no way I’m telling her. In fact, I don’t even plan to share the details of this gig with her.” I lean forward, closer to the screen. “And you better not either. I know she calls you sometimes, trying to squeeze information out of you.”
Gabriella swallows a sip of bottled water. “Didn’t you say you’re going to New York, though?” She waits for my nodded reply. “Does that mean you’ll visit your parents while you’re there?”
It is something I’ve thought about ever since Chase told me we’re going to the Big Apple. But how am I to slip away? “No, I don’t think I can. I’ll be working. Anyway, I already told Ma I won’t be coming home for Christmas.”
The thought saddens me a little. I’ve gone home for Christmas every year since I moved to California. Yet, I knew when I signed up for this project, being available through the holidays was a prerequisite.
“If it helps, I won’t be going home this year, either. Brad booked a cruise to Jamaica.”
She’s so damn lucky. Brad adores her, gives her the sun, all the moons, and their stars. In a sea full of heartbreakers, men like him are hard to find.
“A Christmas cruise to Jamaica sounds like a lot of fun. Bring me and BB a T-shirt, please.”
She lets out a yawn, food coma no doubt kicking in. “Are you taking BB to New York with you?”
“Of course I am.” BB jumps in my lap, places her paws on the desk, and licks my computer screen.
Gabriella laughs. “Thank you for the kisses, BB girl. And you be good for your mama in New York.”
BB barks, wags her little tail, then licks the screen once more, before she hops back onto the carpeted floor.
“Anyway, girl, I’ve gotta go. I’ll text you before heading out on my trip. Love ya.”
Gabriella throws me a kiss. “Love ya too, babe.”
* * *
Packing has never beenmy thing—the planning—matching outfits to anticipated weather patterns. And just my luck, it’s expected to snow the whole time we’re in New York.
Yet, all in all, I think I’m ready for this trip. My hair’s been highlighted, nails done, body waxed—not that I’m expecting any action—and all suitcases packed. BB’s ready too, especially after her doggie spa day, complete with a massage. Dr. Addison, her vet, gave me something to give preflight to ensure she’s calm for the whole four-hour plane ride.
Our flight leaves tomorrow morning, 5 a.m. sharp. I’m assuming Henry will be sent over to pick me up, but Chase hasn’t been in contact with me to let me know, so I’m relying on the information Holly provided in the file folder.
Maybe I should call his office to confirm? Or send him a text message? I’ve already entered his contact information into my cell phone.
Part of me wishes he’d cancel this whole thing. Lying to his parents makes me nervous. I’ve never been good at lying—which is crazy since I’m good at acting.
But canceling would mean I’d have to give back the advance Holly gave me and forget about the rest of the money I’m to receive once the assignment is over. That money will be enough for me to put a down payment on a car, plus have a little extra left over for saving. Heck, if this all ends up being a piece of cake, I’ll stay on Holly’s roster for future gigs.
I plop down on my bed, exhausted, feeling like it’s 1 a.m. instead of 1 p.m. BB barks, clawing at my mattress so she can join me and curl up under my legs. “Wanna take an afternoon nap, sweetie?”
For once, I think a nap isn’t a bad idea, but first I decide it’s best to set my alarm. I don’t want to sleep the rest of the day away. Picking up my cell phone, that’s been charging on my nightstand for most of the morning, I see a pop-up on the screen.
Two missed calls and a text message.
Fake Billionaire Fiancé at Christmas:Call me back, please. It’s important.
