The Billionaire's Fake Girlfriend: Part 1 (The Billionaire Saga 1)

“You rock!” somebody shouted.

Maybe Barry should find a proper parking spot. He wasn’t going to stay double-parked, was he? Oh, well. At least I stopped the fight. Practically glowing with my accomplishment, I started to follow Barry when a cool voice suddenly made me turn.

“Don’t I get an espresso?”

The rich man had taken off his sunglasses and my automatic reproach was delayed for a second or two as I lost myself in his green-gray eyes. They were the exact color of the ocean, but not the crayon blue oceans at the overcrowded beaches here in Southern California. No, it was one of those ice-cold oceans with big boulder beaches instead of sand. The kind of ocean where I could sit for hours in perfect isolation, staring into the water as salty spray misted my face.

My gosh. The man was absolutely gorgeous. I was taken aback by how hot he was and no words would come out of my mouth. “I’m sorry.” I shook my head quickly and returned my attention to the man. “What?”

I had been thinking about oceans, you see.

The corner of his mouth twitched up and he cocked his head to the side. “I said, don’t I get an espresso?”

I glanced back to where his driver had finally exited the car and was staring at the man with anxious expectation. Cufflinks—again! Even the help made me want to rip my hair out.

The ocean-eyes spell wore off and I slipped on my own glasses. “You’re late for a very important meeting. You said so yourself.” My eyes flickered back to his driver and I smiled. “Besides, you can obviously afford it.”

He smiled back at me as I turned to go inside the shop. As a champion for the common man, the crowd parted in solidarity appreciation and it was only a few moments before I made it up to the counter. My favorite barista, Kelly, was already flying around—setting a timer here, sprinkling cinnamon there, but she looked up and smiled when she saw me.

“Morning, Becca—the usual?”

I sank my elbows down onto the counter, gazing bleakly at the latest pop star’s new Thanksgiving album. “Yep. Oh—and let me get that guy Barry’s too.” I pointed to the maintenance worker and he smiled.

“You got it.”

I pulled out a ten and waited as she bustled around. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the rich man walk into the café and take his place at the back of the line. A faint blush rose up in my cheeks and I kept my eyes front. These cinematic takedowns were always best when you could make a clean getaway afterward. And the elevator music wasn’t helping.

“You and Amanda miss another casting?” Kelly asked when she returned, carrying two steaming drinks. “You look tired.”

I handed her my cash. “I just haven’t been

sleeping that well.”

She frowned as she handed me back my change. “The dragon dream again?”

“Yes!” I leaned over the counter excitedly, eager to commiserate. “I don’t know what’s going on, but every time it gets close to me, it suddenly—”

“Hey! You in the scrubs!” An impatient voice called out from the line. “Some of us have to get to work.”

I threw back a glare in their general direction. Just like that, my adoring crowd had turned on a dime. Fame was a fickle friend.

“I’ll tell you later,” I said with exaggerated importance to Kelly, “I have to get to work.”

I scooped up my mocha-chino with all the dignity I could muster and walked out of the café with my head held high. I could feel the rich guy staring at me as I swept past him out the door, but I kept my eyes on the sidewalk. With my luck, I’d probably trip or something right as I tried to deliver a last one-liner to seal the deal.

Chapter 3

From the coffee shop, it was only a short walk through the grove to the hospice center where I worked. Half a dozen obese pigeons swarmed around me, and as was my morning custom, I tipped my change into the hands of the elderly homeless man who had taken up residence beneath one of the palms.

By the time I breezed through the doors, I was feeling pretty damn good about myself.

“Morning, Becca.” My overworked supervisor Lisa gave me a tired smile as I swept up to the front counter to sign in. “You look…peppy?”

I flashed her an overly animated smile. “Just performed a virtual citizen’s arrest at our local coffee shop. You know—keeping the city safe.”

“Uh huh,” she answered vaguely, hearing but not listening as she browsed through some papers. “Well, here we go. Mr. Cartivan in 308 needs a blood sugar reading.” Yeah, I was trained to do some stuff nurses do. “Mrs. Wakley is refusing to take a shower, oh—and here’s one you’ll like—Mrs. Diaz in 207 insists that her family is driving across the country right now to see her. She’s been making a Welcome banner all morning.”

Lisa gave me a stack of job assignments that had to be done before I left as she clocked out with a huge smile.