Faking It with the Frenemy

“You absolutely cannot pick one of my previous dates,” he says firmly. Like a man in a middle of divorce proceedings telling his lawyer that his wife isn’t getting a penny more than what the law requires.

“Okay,” I say, mildly amused.

“Okay. So who? The wedding’s this weekend.”

“I know, but it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

He narrows his eyes until they’re brilliant blue slits in his gorgeous face. “You lied about wanting the housewarming gift from Dane, didn’t you?”

The reminder of the statue makes my spine stiffen. “No, of course not. I want it more than anything.” It’s the only thing standing between me and my five-year bonus.

“Why? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“I don’t have to make sense to you.” I step aside. “Anyway, come on in. I was going to stop by to chat.”

“You were?”

“Yeah. And where’s Vi?”

“Watching TV.”

I consider. The talk won’t take that long, so I bring him in and shut the door. The entire floor doesn’t need to hear my decision.

“I’m going to go to the wedding as your date.” I feel slightly resigned that it came to this, but also slightly proud I’m going to fix this problem for him and get the statue and the bonus I deserve.

“You are?”

“Yeah.”

“But you don’t meet the criteria.”

“Oh, really?” I put my hands on my hips. “Which part? The ‘not wanting your money’ part or the ‘pretty enough’ part?” If he says I’m a gold digger, I’m going to punch him. If he says I’m not pretty enough, I’m still going to punch him. If he says both, I’m going to punch him into a mushy pulp, then feed him to Champ.

“I thought you were going to get me an heiress.”

My outrage dies a bit. “I never said that. The only reason I set you up with them is that a rich woman won’t usually want your money. Anyway, most of the eligible heiresses around are taken. Kind of like all the decent men.”

He frowns. Well, he can ponder all he likes. Doesn’t change the truth. “Look, I’m doing this because I want you to spend more time with Vi,” I say, giving him half the truth. “You’ve been busy with all the dates lately, and I feel bad about that. Also, freeing up your evenings means you can do a special father-daughter bonding activity I planned for you guys.”

“You set up a father-daughter bonding activity for me and Vi?” he says slowly, like he just heard something horrific and unimaginable.

“Yes.” I go to the couch and dig through my purse until I find the brochures and glossy papers Rick gave me. I hand the stack to Wyatt. “Your new home.”

“What?” He barely glances at the colorful papers with a frown. “I don’t want a new home. I just moved here.”

“Yeah, because your assistant doesn’t do her job. You’re a billionaire now. Your daughter deserves a home with a pool.” I point at the pictures of the pools. Every single penthouse I saw today had one.

“Kim, I picked this apartment because I wanted Vi to have normalcy. I need to give her what I had when I was growing up.”

I sigh. It’s so weird how a man as smart as he is can be so…dense. “Normalcy isn’t just a house. It’s how your home makes you feel. Do you f

eel safe? Cared for? Do you feel like you can let your guard down? That’s what makes a good home for Vi, not an apartment your parents might’ve gotten in Corn Meadows.” I gesture at the papers in Wyatt’s hands. “And you know what? She’s the daughter of a billionaire, whether you can wrap your mind around that or not. She’s going to a school that’s full of rich people’s kids. And she’s going to wonder why you won’t spend the money on a better home. If she doesn’t, her classmates certainly will.”

Wyatt’s eyes have widened slightly. After a pause, he says, “Never thought of it that way.”

“I know,” I say, pleased to be able to set him on the right path to complete FWAH.

“Okay. Thanks.”