The Billionaire’s Fake Marriage: (Crystal Beach Resort Standalone Series) Page 3

  Before Riley had a chance to respond, Zoe emerged from the guest room announcing that she just wasn't tired anymore. Riley insisted that she should sleep for one more hour, but Zoe was stubborn.

  No question who she got that lovely trait from.

  Riley exchanged a look with Leah and then lay across the loveseat, leaning her head against the plush armrest. She picked Zoe up and laid her on her chest. Once settled, Riley raised her phone higher to accommodate the mass of blonde curls that were now pressed up against her cheek. She texted the link to the ad to Leah and watched as her friend picked up her phone and clicked it.

  “I hope this is something where you keep your clothes on,” Leah said with a giggle.

  “Tell me what you think,” Riley said.

  And she desperately wanted to know the answer, because she still didn't know how to feel about it.

  Initially, the job title jumped out at her when she was scrolling through the ads. The words were jarring and her first instinct was to scroll past them, but as her thumb touched the screen, something told her to take a second look.

  WIFE WANTED - EXCELLENT COMPENSATION

  I am looking for a wife or temporary stand-in girlfriend.

  Nothing sketchy. Not looking for sex or a romantic relationship, but chemistry is essential. Need someone to attend family functions with. Compensation is unbeatable for just a few months of your time.

  Applicant must not have children.

  If interested, please e-mail me, and we will set up a time to meet in public for an interview.

  “Nothing weird about that,” Leah laughed and shook her head.

  “Well, what do you think?”

  “I think… it looks… interesting,” Leah said, and Riley could tell by the way she kept skimming the page that her curiosity was piqued. “So long as you don’t actually marry the guy.”

  “No, no!” Riley insisted, waving her hands. “Stand-in girlfriend works just peachy for me.”

  “Good!” she paused. “So… how much money do you think it is?”

  “Whatever it is, I am being assured it is excellent,” she teased.

  “And what about the whole ‘must not have children’ thing?”

  Riley shrugged. “What does he care?”

  “Well, obviously he does!”

  “I’ll hire a babysitter when I have to go to work,” she said lazily, brushing her hand along a now-sleeping Zoe’s back. “Easy-peasy.”

  “What if he’s a creepy older guy or tries to take advantage of you?”

  “Then I dial nine-one and keep my finger perched over the last one.”

  “I’m serious,” Leah snickered.

  “Then I won’t take it. I promise. If I end up getting a weird vibe from him, I’ll just bolt.”

  Leah stared at the screen for a long time; so long that Riley wanted to clear her throat or make a noise just to have something else to focus on. But finally, Leah looked up at her and with a broad smile she announced, “I think you should go for it!”

  “Good,” Riley exhaled, “Because the interview is today.”

  Chapter Four

  Logan

  The girl of Logan’s pretend dreams was turning out to be more difficult to find than the real girl of his dreams. He had set up a series of interviews with women who had responded to his ad, hoping to have a wife by the end of the week.

  Not just hoping, needing to hire a girl by then since he’d already told his family he was getting married.

  He set up the interviews on the mainland, away from Crystal Beach Romance Resorts and Condos. That way no one who knew him on the luxe island would see his dirty-dealings.

  Inside a rented office space, Logan sat at a desk and laid out the questions he wanted to ask in front of him.

  First, there was Madison. A wealthy-looking redhead who seemed entirely promising until he realized she might have been more interested in his money than the job at hand.

  “And how much do you make from the inheritance?” she’d asked.

  “Enough. You'll be well taken care of.”

  “Uh-huh. And would I have to sign a prenup?

  He nodded. “Of course.”

  “So I can't take you for half of it, huh?” She laughed, but he didn't join her. “Well, I'm really good with people. People tell me all the time I'm really pretty. I'd make a good trophy wife, you know?”

  He cringed inwardly. “I'm sure, but that’s just not what I’m looking for.”

  Madison was a no-go. Not only was their chemistry lacking, but she clearly was more interested in the end goal of a paycheck than the journey to get there.

  He suspected most of the women would be curious about the payment. It was his biggest selling feature in the ad, of course, but she needed to be willing to put the work in to get it.

  The next girl was a step-up. She may have been the one.

  “I majored in finance,” the bubbly girl explained.

  He could tell she wanted the job, and by all accounts, he should have been happy with her. She was well-educated, enticingly curvy, and incredibly charming. He knew that if he hired Sarah, there would never be an awkward silence and when the day was done, she would head right into her room and brush off the day as though the job she was given were entirely normal.

  But he just didn't feel any chemistry. She was a nice person, but he needed someone who could ride the line between this being a job and being a connection.

  Hell, he didn't know what he wanted anymore.

  He'd interviewed six girls at nearly an hour per interview. He was exhausted, and with his mother coming to her beach-front property in less than two weeks, it looked more and more like he wouldn't be receiving his father's inheritance.

  “We'll be in touch,” he said and sent the confident Sarah on her way. She looked happy; she looked like she knew she got the job, but not in a cocky way. He shrugged; maybe she did have the job.

  The next girl, Cheryl, looked like someone he knew all too well. An aristocratic tagalong. A trophy beach-bunny more invested in showing off her cleavage than having a conversation.

  Yeah, mom would just love her.

  “And what are your interests?” he asked, skimming over her resume.

  The bleach-blonde doll sat upright in her chair with her hands in her lap. She had an angular face and thinly plucked eyebrows. She smiled as she spoke, which was the only inviting thing about her.

  “I love surfing and tanning. I know that sounds shallow, but I'm really into the water. I'm always at the beach, you know? That's why I think this opportunity is so great. Waterfront houses, hot sun, sexy body. I'll be your perfect little wifey.”

  Logan fought off the urge to give off a deep sigh, and Cheryl asked, “What are your interests, Logan?”

  “I'm more of a homebody. I like to read.”

  “Oh yeah, for sure, me too!”

  He perked up. “What's your favorite book?”

  She swallowed, and he could see a peachy flush fill her cheeks. “That one, um, about the people who are maids? But like... oh my gosh, I'm so embarrassed. I should know this.”

  He cocked a brow and quickly offered a polite smile. “Shouldn't have put you on the spot.”

  “Right.”

  Her rock-hard fake breasts barely moved as she attempted to bounce them and cajole his attention. Instead, he looked down at his watch and fought off a yawn. She seemed nice enough, but there was no way his family would buy him falling for a girl like her.

  The next girl seemed promising in the same way that Sarah did. She was perfect. College-educated, beautiful, charming, and just off-putting enough that he wouldn't fall for her. But then he noticed it.

  A wedding ring.

  “You're married?” he frowned.

  “Oh, yes! Six years come Friday. But, don't worry! I've talked to my husband about this, and he's completely fine with it as long as we don't kiss.”

  “You do know this position requires us to be married, right?”

  “Oh,”
she said, fixing a strand of dark black hair behind her ear. “I was sort of hoping to fulfill the stand-in girlfriend portion of the ad.”

  He winced playfully. “Yeah, I was toying around with that idea at first but, as it turns out the wife part is sort of essential.”

  “And that part can’t be faked?”

  “Then it wouldn't be a marriage, would it?” he asked rhetorically and fought off the urge to roll his eyes.

  After sending her on her way, he looked down at the appointment list and noticed there was still one girl left. Riley. He exhaled loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

  He couldn't take another bad interview.

  He walked to the door of his office and smiled warily at the girl waiting in the lobby. She was pretty, but not outwardly breathtaking. She had brown roots and golden hair with a heart-shaped face that practically invited him to set his thumb on her chin and kiss her.

  That was a good sign.

  Her eyes were round. While gray in color, they seemed bright and alert.

  “Come in,” he said, mustering up a smile.

  “Thanks,” she said and bumped into the doorframe on her way in, resulting in a deep face flush that made him laugh.

  “Have... you been drinking?” he teased, and she smiled but looked the slightest bit annoyed.

  “I guess I just assumed that as my gentleman husband, you would have held the door open for me,” she snipped with some humor.

  He laughed and invited her to sit. An apology was just about to escape his lips, but he thought better of it.

  “And what makes you think I'm a gentleman?”

  “Well,” she began slowly, pressing her hand against her chest, “I’m a lady, and if you're supposed to be my husband, then you should be a gentleman.”

  “Hardball. I like it.”

  “That's just a little something you deal with when you marry me.”

  Logan ran a hand through his hair and laughed. “And who are you, exactly?”

  “Riley Armstrong. I'm twenty-two, a photography major.”

  “Logan Williams,” he paused. “You're young.”

  “Not that young. Why? How old are you?”

  He met her eyes and felt a rush of excitement through his core. “I’m twenty-nine.”

  “Same age-gap as my parents,” she exclaimed.

  “It doesn’t seem as strange the older you get,” he agreed. “But, we definitely couldn't have dated as teenagers.”

  “Um, yeah,” she laughed into her hand, “At the very least I would have been eleven when you were eighteen so, yeah, no.”

  “Weird how that happens,” he continued, and she smiled politely at him until a comfortable silence hung between them. Logan inhaled sharply and then asked, “So, you like photography?”

  “Love it. But, it's an expensive hobby. I lost most of my lenses. Sorry. That was random and not at all about work.”

  He laughed and couldn’t help but smile. “We're connecting,” he said simply. “That’s important.”

  “Ah,” she mused, raising her brows. She went to grab the glass of water on the table in front of her, but fumbled and knocked it over. They both watched as it went tumbling toward the ground.

  “I am so sorry,” the girl said almost frantically, her eyes going wide with fear that she’d blown the interview.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he laughed and quickly scooped up the broken glass, setting it in a garbage bin nearby. “So, where do you work currently, if anywhere?”

  “Um,” she said and shifted uncomfortably. She seemed to stumble over the question several times before meeting his eyes and offering a flirtatious, embarrassed smile as she admitted, “I was actually just fired from my last job as a waitress at a coffee shop.”

  “Because you break things?” he chuckled.

  The statement, for whatever reason, sent the girl into a loud, throaty laugh. When she inhaled, she snorted loudly. The room went silent as both of their eyes went wide, replaying the noise. Before he could think of anything to say, both he and Riley burst into laughter.

  “Did you just snortle?” he asked, a grin plastered across his face at the awkward meet. “Snortling, a lady does not make. You've been lying to me, Riley Armstrong.”

  “Hey, we're married. Get used to it,” she said with a charming shrug.

  Logan gave a slow nod but said nothing about the seemingly out of nowhere dump on marriage.

  “Was that bitter just now?” she asked, her voice pitching higher at the end of her question.

  He smirked. “It wasn't sweet.”

  “Sorry,” she said. “I'm divorced.”

  His brows shot up and, trying to mask his surprise, he said, “You're twenty-two.”

  “Yeah. Well. That's life.”

  Logan continued to nod, wondering if he felt any particular way about the idea that she’d been married before. He quickly decided that no, he didn’t care. It wasn’t like she was really dating her, and the fact that she’d already been through a divorce meant she was familiar with the process.

  “No kids?” he asked.

  She licked her lips and said, “Nope.”

  “Good,” he said and marked down her answer on the top of her resume and circled it.

  Obviously watching him make the notation on the paper, Riley asked, “Not a fan?”

  “Not at all,” he enunciated. “If I wanted my furniture ruined and my bank account drained, I would by a dog and get married.”

  “Ah, they're not so bad,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “Besides, aren't we supposed to be getting married?”

  “Right,” he said, reminding himself to get back to business. “I suppose I should get into my proposition before we get too carried away. So. I'm looking for, like you said, a wife. The marriage will be real, but we will, of course, annul it.”

  “Why the sudden need for a wife?” she grinned, leaning in on the table. “I find it hard to believe a guy like you can't find a real girl to fall all over him.”

  He blinked then smirked. “Not really looking for one, to be honest. No… my reasons are a lot shallower in nature.” He steepled his fingers and inspected her body. The way her hips jutted out: an hourglass shape that was just slightly too curvy for her small frame. Immediately, he knew he loved it. “I am looking to get an inheritance, and my father...” he paused, frowning deeply as he corrected, “Late father,”

  “Sorry,” the charming Riley interjected, putting on the same pitying eyes that the rest of the world did when they found out he’d lost a loved one.

  “Why?” he gave a small scoff and leaned back in his chair. “Did you kill him?”

  “No,” she said in surprise.

  “I hate when people say I'm sorry to that,” he said dismissively and quickly realized how rude he was being. He leaned back toward the table, engaging her again as he said, “I've just heard it a lot.”

  “I think people just... don't know what else to say.”

  He shrugged and showed his palms to her as if the answer was obvious. “Say nothing,” he explained. “Or you know what? I'd really like to hear someone just be honest for once. Hey, my dad died. Shit. That sucks.” He paused. “That sucks, you know? That's real. Because it does suck, and there's no other way to describe it.”

  Riley nodded, gray eyes watching his. She reached across the table and put her hand on his and widened her eyes almost comically. “That sucks, Logan.”

  “Thank you!” He laughed, shaking his head. “Anyway. Apparently, it was his dying wish that I find a wife. Can you believe that? Scolded by my dad even in death.”

  “That’s parents for ya,” she scoffed.

  “Getting married also happens to be the only way I get my inheritance. So here you are, my soon-to-be wife.”

  “At your service.”

  He nodded. “Think you can handle it?”

  “By it, you mean you?” she teased.

  “That is what I mean.”

  She nod
ded. “Not a doubt in my mind.”

  “And you are aware this will be a legal marriage? You will be asked to sign a non-disclosure agreement, on top of the one you already signed, as well as a prenuptial agreement.”

  She gave another, almost mechanical nod. “Yes.”

  “And that this may take several months, if not a year, of your time, meaning you will be living on the island with me until then.”

  She hesitated and her eyes downcast to her left side, contemplating the agreement.

  “If it's a year,” she began slowly, not making eye contact with him. “I’m not sure if I can do that. That’s a long time to be in each other’s lives, don’t you think?”

  “You mean away from your own life?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  And suddenly, he knew she was the one he wanted

  “If money is the issue I can take things up to,” he paused, “A half million.”

  “That's quite the raise,” she said with a small laugh, clearly taken aback.

  He nodded. “Then that should give you a pretty good idea about how much money that inheritance is worth.”

  “Alright,” she agreed, and it looked like she was trying not to break into a wide grin. “A year.”

  “Maybe,” he added. “Maybe less.”

  “I'm in,” she agreed.

  He looked her over and decided right then that this was the one. This was the girl he wanted. Charming, knew how to banter, and had no attachments. She was a girl who had already lived a little bit, despite her age.

  And to top things off, the more he looked at her, the more beautiful she was.

  “Then, Riley Armstrong, you've got yourself a job,” he said and pulled out the three-carat solitaire engagement ring and slipped it onto her finger.

  Chapter Five

  Riley

  “But he was cute?” Leah gushed as Riley quickly began to pack a bag.

  “Very sexy,” Riley said, grinning sideways at her friend as she stuffed a few wrinkled dresses into her duffel bag.

  “Wow! We went from cute to sexy in like, five seconds!”

  Tom and Leah had insisted on watching Zoe during the time that Riley would have to be at the resort. Knowing she had to leave her daughter for an extended amount of time broke her heart, but she was ready to do whatever it took to get them in a better financial position.