Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
I walked in to a cafe and found the woman of my dreams. So I did what any man would do in my situation. I lied. I told her I was broke despite the fact I’m one of the richest men in the city. I told her I needed a place to live even though I own several apartment buildings. The good thing is she asked me to pretend to be her fiancé to gain control of the home of her dreams. The bad thing is that I’m going to have to convince her that this contract is for life.
HARLOW
My grandmother left me her condo but the board won’t allow me to keep it unless I can prove I’m married. Since the last time I dated was when dinosaurs walked the earth, I did what any normal woman would do in this situation. I put out an ad. I didn’t expect the man who showed up would be more attractive than all the men on television put together. The good thing is he’s dirt poor and is forced to sign an agreement to be my fake fiancé for a year. The bad thing is I’m falling in love with my contract man.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter One
CAL
“The growth potential for this company is at least 20 percent year over year for the next five years if managed right, but the current management is a mess and—”
“Make the offer then, Trident,” I interrupt my second in command.
“Just like that? You don’t want to see the P&L statements?”
I had pulled the public profit and loss reports when Trident first mentioned the company over lunch a couple months ago, but I liked that he was taking the initiative here. “I trust you. Make the offer.”
“Of course you do, because I’m brilliant. You’re welcome.” Trident hangs up, but I swear I hear his scream of pleasure even though he’s a mile uptown.
I check to see if my aunt has called. She’s late, which is expected, but usually she will call or text with some excuse about her hair dryer blowing up or her stockings having a run. She doesn’t do her own hair, and I don’t really know the state of her stocking drawer, but I suspect she has a few thousand. Our family is never short on money. I’ve been ducking her for a good month or I’d get up and leave. She wants to marry me off and has a new victim in mind. I call them victims because I’m not interested in marrying, and definitely none of these pallid society girls she parades in front of me with their art or music degrees which they have no interest in. Those were just topics that they took because their families told them that it was appropriate, not because they loved art or music. It was a ladylike, appropriate skill for a girl who would marry into a rich family and take care of the home and have little clones that would grow up to do the very same thing they’re doing.
In sum, boring. Tiresome. Unattractive. I run a hand through my hair. It’s getting long. I should get it cut. It’s another thing Aunt Gia will scold me about. I eye the door and contemplate leaving. It’s been ten minutes, surely—
A shaft of light walks in. A shaft of light disguised as a girl no taller than my shoulders with pitch-black hair and sun-kissed skin. Curvy, very curvy in all the right places. She looks built to mold perfectly against my body with wide hips, a full chest, and a soft, round stomach. Delicious. I know what I want for lunch. I settle back into the padded chair. An earthquake couldn’t move me from my spot.
Her gaze scans the crowd, looking for someone. I turn and inspect the diners too, trying to pinpoint which man I’m going to have to beat up, ruin, or otherwise dispose of so I can have her. There’s one table with a lone man whose head is bent so far over his coffee cup the tip of his blue tie is about to get soaked. She pauses at his table and then keeps moving. When she looks my way, I catch her eyes and tilt my head in a welcoming fashion. A small, nervous smile touches her lips. She starts in my direction.
Without looking down, I text Trident:
Call Aunt G and tell her I had an emergency meeting. I’ll meet her for dinner instead. Pick up a gift for her. Something expensive.
The girl slides into the empty chair across from mine. Two seconds later, a waiter appears and fills her glass with Perrier.
“Hi.” Her voice doesn’t shake, but she’s nervous.
“Hello.”
She licks her lips. I bite back a groan. “I’m Harlow. I guess you already know that.” She points to the yellow plastic flower pin on her prim black suit coat that looks like it was bought at a dollar store. If I looked under the table, her shoes would be scuffed at the toe, and maybe her heels would have one or two scratches. She might’ve colored them in with black marker. I’ll buy her a dozen new pairs of shoes with the red bottoms and real tweed jackets with the weighted chains hand sewn in them. “You’re wearing the blue tie.” She points to her chest.