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The thought of having Jasper playing my fake fiancé is weird. The whole world knows him, and yes, he can open doors for me, but he wouldn’t agree to it. It’s mentioned in an article that he said marriage isn’t for him.
I scrunch up my nose. “That would be weird. ‘Hey, thanks for the free food and ass but can you do me another favor and pretend to be my fake fiancé?’” I shake my head. “He’s not the type to pretend to settle down. He’s a commitment-phobe. My favorite to fuck.”
She sighs in relief. “I have something for you.” She hands a cream envelope to me, and I remove the card and read it.
Poppy Giles,
You have been invited to the American Billionaire Club masquerade ball.
Make sure you bring this invitation with you and photo ID.
Wear a decorated mask. We encourage you to participate in our auction to get a bid on raising money for the homeless. If you’re not already aware, homelessness is extremely high in New York City.
The rules of the auction are:
Wear your best dress or suit.
Whoever bids on you, do your best to go on a date with him or her. If you don’t want to go on a date and you feel uncomfortable, please let one of the managers know and we will support you.
No refunds if you decide to bet on someone. There is no guarantee that the person you chose wants to date you.
Signed,
CEO Ravi Williams.
I crinkle my nose. “Why are you giving me this?”
“So you can meet your suitor. I’m sure you will find someone there. You can get a billionaire if you participate in the auction.”
I’ve heard about the American Billionaire Club, only the elite join it, men who have influence and power and connections with the most powerful men. The four gentlemen who run this exclusive club know everyone. Powerful politicians, bank owners—anyone who has status and power are only allowed. There is a rumor that four friends started it five years ago. People are willing to give up their firstborns to be a member of the club. My stepfather is dying to be a part of it, but they have to personally invite you.
If I meet a billionaire from there and we pretend to be engaged, my mother would quickly forgive me and allow me back into her arms. I picture it in my mind, the smile on her face, her welcoming me into open arms.
I frown as realization hits me. “Don’t they have rooms where they have sex?”
Lake’s cheeks turn the color of a pink rose, and she nods, smiling. “Yes.”
“Oh my God, you and Atlas had sex in one of the rooms, didn’t you?”I poke her arm.
Lake is very private about her sex life with Atlas, and that makes me even more intrigued.
Her nose and forehead turn a shade darker. “Atlas plays golf with the owner who gave him an invite to the club to see if he wanted to be a member. It was so much fun.”
I nudge her arm. “You kinky bitch.” I pull her into a long hug, and I kiss the side of her cheek. “Thank you.”
She unzips the bag next to her and gently yanks out a blood red gown with diamonds molded on the corset and a mask with peacock feathers in different shades of red. I trace my fingers along the soft feathers and hold it to my face, then I set them on my lap. She opens the box, and the open-toe heels inside match the dress.
“I designed the dress myself, and I picked out the shoes.”
Happiness bubbles in my chest. She’s like my own personal fairy godmother handing my dreams to me. I couldn’t thank her enough.
Tears sting my eyes, and the tension leaves my body. It feels as if a burden has been lifted off my shoulders. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”
“It’s not a problem; you were there for me when I had my car accident, the only friend who didn’t leave my side.” She nods. The car accident left her so broken, and her ex-fiancé left her because she had the scar on her face. I helped her a lot when she got out of the hospital. I made her food, helped her shower, cleaned her home. She fell into a deep depression. I love Lake with all my heart, and I would do anything to make sure she’s okay and happy. “Let me know how the date goes,” she says excitedly.
“Will do,” I reply.
“I have to go, I’m going to be late for work. You know Atlas is a stickler for tardiness. I love you, girl.”
