Fake Wife (Taming The Bad Boy Billionaire 8)
“Is what true?” I said, feigning innocence. “Oh, and hello to you both too. Haven’t talked to you in a while. How’ve you been?”
“Wonderful. How about you? Where have you been lately? And your phone just rings and rings.”
“I’ve been so busy.”
“We have to get together and catch up.”
“Enough with the small talk,” Marlene said loudly, bouncing on her heels. “Are you living with Charlie or what?”
My eyes widened, and I dropped my pen. “Where the hell did you hear that?” I asked, immediately suspecting Tammy’s big mouth.
“Let’s just say I know a girl who knows a guy who knows a guy who works at the moving company,” Riley said waving off the question. “They said they moved a pretty blonde woman with four dogs into Charlie’s house a week ago. Why didn’t you tell us you finally made a move on him?”
Phoebe’s friendly gaze darkened for a split second before she nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, what’s with all the secrets?” she said.
I frowned and leaned back in my office chair. “There’s nothing to tell. There were extenuating circumstances, and Charlie is just being a good friend, helping me out temporarily. That’s all there is to it. If you heard anything else, it’s just rumors and bullshit.”
“I think you’re the one telling us bullshit. Tammy said you lost your job and were evicted,” Marlene said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “So what? Charlie gave you a room at his place and a job at the business he owns, just like that?”
“Why not? We were best friends growing up,” I pointed out with a shrug, then crossed my arms over my chest.
“Were being the key word,” Marlene said, grinning. “You didn’t hear from him in years, remember?”
“Yeah, I’m aware,” I said, trying to ignore the sudden sting of pain that shot through me at her words. “Anyway, can I help you with something, or did you really just come here to give me the third degree?”
Riley shook her head. “We don’t need to do that. We can pretty much dig up anything we want. We just came to...confirm it from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.”
“Confirm what exactly?”
“That Charlie has to marry someone from this town by the end of the month, or else he’ll lose everything his dear old dad left him,” Marlene said casually. “Are you his bride-to-be, Jaime? Did he convince you to marry him so you can share that fortune? I wouldn’t hold it against you. I mean, he owes you big time, the way I see it.”
“How the hell did you two hear about that part?” I laughed, glancing around and glad to see that the lobby was empty. “No one is supposed to know!”
“You told Tammy, didn’t you?” Marlene explained.
“Yeah, but—”
“But nothing. She’s a great secret holder when she’s sober. But... You know how she gets after a bottle of wine or two.”
I glanced from one to the other, and my hands clenched the edge of the counter. “You got her drunk on purpose?”
“No one had heard from you in a while,” she said. “We were starting to worry. We wanted to make sure you’re all right, so we got together with Tammy. One merlot led to another, and she spilled the beans. Just tell me, how’d did he do it?”
My brow wrinkled in confusion. “Do what?”
“How’d he convince you to marry him, silly?”
I thought of the deal Charlie desperately wanted to keep quiet, and a horrible inkling started in my gut. Shit. This is bad, really, really bad. I rubbed my forehead, making a mental note to commit Tammy-cide later, as my mind scrambled for some way out of the mess her gossiping had made. Ultimately, I decided honesty, at least partial honesty, was the best policy, and I hoped they’d buy it.
“Look, I’m just living with him until I get back on my feet. That’s it. We’re not getting married, and I’m not interested in his money. Whatever Tammy told you was wrong.”
“Sure,” Phoebe said, not hiding the doubt from her voice. “Then why did Charlie come into my flower shop today and buy five dozen red roses?” She looked at me suspiciously and tapped her long, red nails on the counter as she awaited my reply.
I stared right back at her, not sure what to say. Charlie had been acting strangely all day, going on about those secret plans of his. He’d received more than one phone call and had been quite secretive about them, glancing around as if he was worried I might overhear his conversation.
“Look, I have no idea what he’s doing,” I said slowly. “I just work here, and I’m only living with him until I get back on my feet, like I said before.” I stared them both down but could tell neither believed me. “Why do you care so much anyway?”
Riley shrugged. “You know me. I just love gossip. It lets me live vicariously through others.”