Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
I groan. “No! Promise not to say anything?” She nods. “He has this awards thing coming up and for some reason he wants a fiancée.”
“Did he say why?”
Did he? I can’t quite remember. “He says it’s for business. Maybe the women he fucks all have some kind of weird tic—I don’t know.”
“Maybe he thinks he’ll get taken more seriously if he has a fiancée. Like more relatable to the older guys, the industry stalwarts. He’s young, right?”
“Early thirties,” I say. “A couple of years older than us.”
“So we have a couple of years to make our billions, then?”
I laugh. “Right.” That’s the thing with Leo; he doesn’t strike me as the kind of cutthroat go-getter I would have thought a self-made billionaire has to be. How did he get so successful so young? Maybe by understanding that an awards ceremony like the one coming up requires a fiancée? Who am I to question his business methods? Apart from when it comes to The Mayfair, which he seems completely disinterested in.
“So… you want some extra cash to be my boss’ fake fiancée for one night?” I ask jokingly, but as soon as I catch Sophia’s reaction, I regret asking, because she doesn’t look horrified.
“Maybe,” she replies. “How much cash?”
“He was a bit vague about it. But I figure you could get at least a thousand bucks.” Fact is, I’m sure Leo will pay more than that.
She mouths wow. “Tell me what I have to do?”
Jealousy twists in my chest. Leo isn’t mine. He was never mine, apart from the two hours I spent with him at the party. Leo’s exactly who I don’t want, so me being jealous makes no sense. Sophia would be a perfect fake fiancée for him. “You just have to be charming and sweet to everyone and look pretty. I mean, I don’t have a full job description worked up. You just have to be free the night of October twentieth.”
“I mean, if I can fake being charming and sweet, I can fake being a fiancée, right?”
“Exactly,” I say. “Are you around tomorrow or are you working?” Inexplicably, I want her to be busy.
“I’m around in the morning. I don’t go in until noon.”
I pick up my phone. I have Leo’s calendar on it. “He can see you at ten if that works?”
“See you at ten,” she says. She glances head to toe at me again. “What kind of thing should I wear?”
I shrug. “Something that says you’re a billionaire’s fiancée,” I reply, and I can’t help but wonder what that might be. Finding Leo a date for the awards is not what I want to be doing with my life. I should be managing The Mayfair. I’d be much better at that job than being Leo’s assistant, though I’m pretty damn good at that, too. He knows it. He’s seen how hard I work, how efficient I am.
Then what am I waiting for? I hate working so closely with him. Every day is a reminder that I can’t hold a man’s attention until the end of a party, let alone a lifetime. Maybe I need to ask for the job I want. The job I was born for. The job that means I’m not ten feet away from Leo Hart at all times.
SIX
Jules
Operation: Manage The Mayfair is underway. Sophia is locked and loaded in the Starbucks next door, waiting to be Leo’s ten o’clock. Leo’s going to realize I can make anything happen. That I’m the most impressive person he’s ever worked with, and he’s bound to employ me as his hotel’s general manager.
But first, I have my first-ever scheduled meeting with my boss.
On cue, Leo crashes out of his office. “I just looked at my calendar. Have we got a meeting now?” he asks. It’s understandable he’s confused. I’ve never put a meeting in the calendar for the two of us. He calls me into his office whenever he needs to speak to me, and I go in whenever I need something from him. No scheduling required.
“We do,” I say, standing and picking up the papers I have to present to him. “It’s just twenty minutes.”
“You’ve gotten me a fiancée?” he asks.
“I’ve got someone for you to meet. She’ll be here in about twenty minutes. But I wanted to talk to you about something first.”
He looks at me and I stare right back, my face blank, like I’m not a little dizzy from the intensity of his gaze. I’ve really got to get out of here.
“Okay,” he says. “What’s this about? You after a pay raise?”
“Kinda,” I mumble under my breath. “It’s about The Mayfair.”
He groans. “What’s happened now?” He actively avoids calls from Louis, so I’m not quite sure why he’s acting like he’s constantly bothered by the hotel.
“I want to run through a few things with you.”