The Billionaire's Fake Girlfriend: Part 3 (The Billionaire Saga 3)

“Perfect—see you there.”

“Marcus is being a dick, by the way.”

She laughed. “We’ll talk in ten.”

Precisely ten minutes later, I was pulling up in front of Mr. Chow’s. I thanked my taxi driver and hopped out onto the sidewalk, scanning the crowds for Amanda. For a moment, everything seemed fine. I was just another slightly over-dressed won-ton enthusiast ready to chow down with her friend.

Then, very slowly, I began to realize that something had gone quite wrong.

The crowd began to shift their gaze, like some master puppeteer had maneuvered them all at the same time. Excited to see someone famous, I turned in the same direction, only to see the other side looking back at me. There was a bizarre hush—the kind of silence a horde of people shouldn’t be capable of—then came the explosion.

“Rebecca! Look over here!”

“Rebecca White!”

“Are you excited about the wedding, Rebecca?”

“What does it take to keep a man like Marcus Taylor in bed!”

My eyes squinted up automatically to protect themselves from the sudden array of flashbulbs and light. Whether it was a group of hipsters with their smartphones, or the actual paparazzi—drawn to the commotion faster than sharks and blood—everyone wanted to take a small piece of me.

I whirled around automatically to see if my taxi driver was by chance still here—maybe it wasn’t too late to make a run for it? But no such luck. One hand came up instinctively to my belly to protect the baby before I remembered the part I was playing and forced it back down.

“Is he insisting on a prenup?”

“Have the two of you ever had a threesome!”

“When are you going to start a family?”

“Bex!”

Somehow, Amanda’s voice stood out above the chaos. I turned around just as she swept in and took my hand, towing me into the restaurant like a person drowning—confused and disoriented. The moment we were safely inside, the manager greeted us and led us upstairs to a prime table—one with a view of the entire street.

…which was full of people still screaming after me.

My hands were literally shaking as I took a calming sip of tea. They were jumping up and down now—like there was any chance I’d go back outside in that mess.

“This…this is what Marcus was worried about,” I said suddenly, remembering the wary look he’d cast out the window when I said I wanted to go out alone.

“This might be something you have to get used to,” Amanda said sympathe

tically. “This would’ve happened with fame anyway. Didn’t we both want to be famous movie stars at one time?”

“I don’t mind getting recognized for my acting abilities, but I’m only getting recognized as Marcus Taylor’s fiancé.”

We sat there for a while, browsing distractedly through the menu, but the crowd didn’t lessen. In fact, it only got bigger. Before long, a news van arrived, followed soon after by two more. The sky had already begun to darken, but it only made the menace seem more real. Shrill screams echoed back in the shadows, punctuated far too often with a flash of light as a cameraman set up a location shot for whatever story this was supposed to be.

Rebecca White goes to Lunch?

Rebecca White Freezes like a Stunned Animal When Asked About her Fiancé?

Rebecca White – Deer in the Headlights

Fascinating stuff, really. But Marcus was right. The public already knew every piece of information he was willing to share. It was my turn now. And the press was hungry.

“Mandi, I’m sorry. I can’t eat like this.”

She peered out the window, looking worried. “No, me neither. This is insane!”