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

The waiter came by and we quietly asked for the bill for our tea—leaving an incredibly generous amount of money on the table for all the trouble.

“It’s no trouble,” he assured us repeatedly. “It’s actually great for business whenever a celebrity arrives.”

“I’m not a celebrity,” I said automatically, gripping my coat tighter around me.

“Mmm-hmm.” He looked doubtful, but smiled gratefully at the tip and escorted us out a side entrance where two taxis had already been called.

I gave Amanda a quick goodbye hug, nervous that people would spot us if we stayed outside too long. “Sorry about lunch,” I said glumly. “Try again soon?”

She squeezed my hand and smiled. “Next time, we’ll go out in wigs. No one will recognize you.” I brightened slightly at this and turned to leave, but she caught my wrist once more. “Bex…talk to Marcus. I’m sure there’s a reason behind whatever he’s doing.”

A ghost of a smile flitted across my face. Amanda and I waved quickly and disappeared in our respective cabs, shooting off in opposite directions before the press arrived.

When I got back to the villa, Billings’ people had all disappeared. I got the feeling that Marcus had ordered them away. The housekeepers looked as thrilled as I was. The stoic head of security even flashed me a rare smile as I headed upstairs.

“Hey,” I called softly as I knocked on our bedroom door, “you in here?”

The door opened immediately. I didn’t think I’d ever get fully used to waking up to that face. I wasn’t sure anyone could. It was almost too perfect. Startlingly perfect. You had to stare.

“Hey.” Marcus smiled tentatively and gestured me inside. “You never have to knock, you know. It’s your room now too.”

I nodded self-consciously, pondering Amanda’s advice and wondering where to begin. In the end, I dropped my purse by the door and sat down in the center of the bed, patting the spot beside me. Marcus followed my lead, shutting the door first to give us some privacy.

“How was Chinese?” he asked quietly, kissing my stomach before straightening up.

I frowned curiously. “How did you know we went for Chinese?”

He bit his lip nervously. “Saw it on the news.”

My jaw dropped open. “You’re kidding me!”

I rushed over to his open laptop, and sure enough, there was a picture of me standing in the middle of the crowd, looking frightened and alone.

“Great,” I moaned, dropping my face into my hands. “That was quick. And look how my hair is all poofy from the wind.”

“Rebecca,” he said seriously, “if you want to bring back eighties hair, I have enough money to do that. We’ll just have to draft up a memo.”

“You’re the worst,” I giggled, tossing a pencil in his general direction.

“Terrible aim too.” He shook his head disapprovingly before catching my wrist and pulling me to him on the bed with a smile. Despite my simmering anger, I snuggled against him, determined to talk it out like a grownup.

“Who’s Eve?” I asked after a while, sneaking a look at him from beneath my lashes.

His face tightened uncomfortably, and he sighed. “You want the truth?”

The answer caught me off guard, and I frowned. “Well…maybe.”

“Eve was one of two girls I was dating before I met you. And yes, now that Billings pointed it out, I guess you bear a slight resemblance—but she’s in no way your doppelgänger.”

“…oh.”

I didn’t know what I was expecting him to say. I didn’t know whether it would help or hurt me to hear it. But at a time when it seemed like everything had to be either hidden away or completely exposed, I was leaning toward honesty when at all possible.

“And that’s not the half of it.” He twisted around slightly to face me. “Rebecca…I’ve had a fucked up couple of years. I’ve passed out in a million embarrassing places—each time discovered there by the press, slept with enough girls that I couldn’t begin to tell you half their names, and taken enough drugs to kill a small whale. I’m…I’m not proud of it. I haven’t been proud of it for a long time, but I never knew how damaging it was until now.”

I absorbed it as best I could, hand on my stomach the whole time. I had figured as much. When someone’s PR firm thought it was best to continue the charade of Marcus having a fake girlfriend to stabilize their image, it wasn’t because the guy was a saint. Then again, the last thing he said confused me.

“What are you talking about?” I leaned back so I could see him better. “Until now?”