His Fake Fiancee: BBW Romance (Fake it For Me)

Tim shakes his head. “I found a place I think you’ll like.” He reads the description off.

Ivan nods. “Sounds good, direct the driver. We will eat then go back to the hotel. How far are we from the city?”

“Another twenty miles, this is farm country, boss. I’m just glad we have cell serv

ice.”

A text indicator goes off. Sighing, Ivan pulls out his phone; he vents a soft exhalation which almost passes for a laugh. “Tim, add lunch with Dmitri Markhoff Friday at twelve thirty. While you are on the calendar check, is there an upcoming birthday for one of his children?”

“It’s his wife’s birthday on Thursday.”

“Get her something, send it to their home,” Ivan orders without taking his eyes off the phone.

Tim’s eyes are wide as he looks to me then to Ivan. “Um, what should I get her?”

Ivan doesn’t bother to look up. “I do not care, figure it out. Do not forget to tell me what it is once it is sent.”

Another few messages are traded before Ivan tucks his phone away. There is no warning before his eyes meet mine, for the first time since I was an idiot on the plane.

“Excellent job today. Rebecca has been terminated. With her gone and Connor on leave I am in need of a personal assistant. I would like it to be you, until I find someone else. When a replacement is found, you will take over Simon’s office.”

The only thing keeping me from making an idiot of myself is the awareness that Tim is staring at me. I nod. “Okay.”

An honest to god laugh comes out of him. I am so fucked. The change in his beautiful face sends a punch to my solar plexus. All those hard lines and angles soften, sending hot honey running through my veins.

“I was expecting more enthusiasm than that. You are not good for my ego, Ms. Connolly.”

“I’m pretty sure it would take an earthquake with a magnitude of at least a seven to make the slightest dent in your ego,” I respond without thinking.

Annoyed at him, and myself for the way his lingering smile is turning my stomach into a tornado, I can’t forget the way he acted on the plane. He had me terrified I was going to lose my job.

Now he’s offering me Rebecca’s job, then Simon’s when he’s found a replacement. What is his deal? It’s me being stupid—it has to be. Ever since the way he acted on the plane, I have been trying desperately to keep away from him and keep my eyes off him. It wasn’t easy, but apparently I succeeded enough to assure him I wasn’t going to be a problem.

Ivan smiles, while those black eyes glint with promise, a promise of what, I’m not sure. His phone goes off, he pulls it out of his inner pocket with annoyance. “What?”

My phone vibrates, and I freeze, afraid of what it means. Checking it, I exhale. Emily wants to know where the extra heating pad is, she can’t find it. It’s in my room; I apologize and approve of her getting another one if needed.

“Gemma, what exactly is the issue now? Yesterday you were dead set on telling Aari’s mum to go fuck herself. What in the hell changed between now and then?” Ivan sighs. “Of course, I manipulated you into it. You did not leave me much choice. I am not going to try and undo a knot when it is best to cut through all the bullshit.”

Wow, he has zero regret he was found out for manipulating her. What an ass. Then again, he’s so damned good at it—manipulating people, that is—he probably took pride in it.

Watching him today, I was struck at how smoothly he worked his way through one person after another. How reassuring and comforting he was to the two sisters and their mother. Of course, he understood how deeply they cared about not just what they created, but the message behind it. He not only understood, he believed in it too. He was only here to make sure it didn’t die out, that the business succeeded in reaching more people.

How he finessed the father and the brother, they put in the sweat and hard labor to make it happen, yet they didn’t feel appreciated for the long hours they put in. Ivan was there to alleviate the sweat and long hours, to ensure a smoother, less arduous work schedule. Of course, Ivan embraced the gordian knot Alexander the Great fable of cutting through a problem, yet he also had the insight and awareness to know when to use a heavy hand and when to use a light one.

We pull up in front of the restaurant. As badly as I want to stay and eavesdrop, I move fast in order not to make it obvious I’m trying to listen in. Tim doesn’t even bother looking back as we enter the building, with Ivan still in the car. There is no wait before we are seated in a quiet corner of the restaurant as Tim requests.

The moment we sit down, Tim sighs loudly. “His family, they,” he rolls his eyes, “are incredibly needy. His sisters aren’t always such a pain, but Gemma has been getting worse the closer she gets to her weddings.”

“Weddings?”

A nod, as he looks over the menu. “She’s marrying an Indian guy. The mom is demanding a Hindu ceremony plus the regular wedding. It’s going to be back-to-back weekends, Hindu ceremony one weekend and regular the next. We’ll be stuck over in England for two weeks.

“He doesn’t act like it, but there isn’t much he wouldn’t do for his sisters. During the day he might not always pick up, but if it’s the middle of the night he answers the first ring.

“His mom is a different story entirely. He won’t take a call from her, ever. Know that now: if ever she calls, you tell her that he’s busy and take a message. Over the last few years, though, she has called less and less, only four times all of last year.”

“Not a momma’s boy then?” It isn’t easy to pretend I’m not dying to know everything about Ivan.