Fake Fiancé (A Second Chance Office Romance) Read online

  As I waited, the anticipation to meet him built. Very few pictures had been taken of him. From what I’d read, he didn’t care for the publicity. And while he was on the cover of Forbes for his company’s rise to fame, and also on Page Six as the most eligible bachelor, his features had often been caught in shadow, further enhancing his air of unattainability, of mystery.

  The door whipped open, and I couldn’t help but mirror the grin on Tiffany’s face as she stepped aside so I could enter. Careful not to nudge her baby bump, I shimmied through the entrance then waited for her to tell me where to go.

  “I’m so thrilled you’re here.” Her smile stretched impossibly wider. “I’ll walk you through everything today, then after, you can reach me by phone if you have questions.”

  “Okay.” I twisted my hands together in front of me to still the urge to tug at my pale-blue sweater.

  She squeezed my shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Once you get the hang of things, working with Stone will be a piece of cake.” With an eye roll, she groaned. “Now I want chocolate cake. This baby is going to make me so fat.”

  “You’re adorable and not in any way overweight.” She really was. Her skin had this amazing glow, her eyes sparkled, and her cheerful mood was infectious. Ever since we’d talked on the phone, I’d connected with her, which was probably another reason I’d landed this job. It was probable that the position was temporary, but a stepping stone nonetheless. “From the back, I couldn’t even tell you were pregnant.” From what she’d told me last conversation, this was her first pregnancy, and she and her husband were thrilled for the baby’s arrival, which was due in about a month.

  “Well, I’m sort of done. My feet are killing me, and I have to pee every twenty minutes. Don’t even get me started on what happens if I sneeze or cough.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m ready for this baby to be born.”

  “Not much longer.” I took a moment to glance around as she led me into a large living room that had a mahogany desk near the entrance to the balcony. Tall windows showcased a glimpse of the Adige River and the Roman influence in the history of the surrounding homes and buildings. “Wow, that’s the view we get to see every day?”

  “It is. And it sets the mood. My husband and I were not immune. Romance permeates the air.”

  I laughed as she smoothed her hand over her stomach. From my walk through the town before arriving last night, I understood what she meant. Verona was where soul mates found one another. There were so many people out for a stroll, and I’d felt a natural high.

  Snapping back to why I was here, I followed her to the desk that had a computer, two iPads, her cell phone, and a bunch of documents stacked to the side. “Grab that chair over there and pull it next to mine.”

  After I settled into the seat next to Tiffany, she went over everything I was to do. And there was a lot. An hour had gone by, and I was still taking notes, in between her answering the phone and setting up a few meetings for Stone. I could hear his deep baritone in the next room, but I had yet to lay eyes on him, which was probably a good thing. I was nervous enough as is.

  Tiffany nudged me. “Can you run another mug of coffee to Stone? He usually takes one about now, and the less I have to be on my feet…”

  “Oh, of course. I shouldn’t wait until he’s off the phone?”

  She shook her head, sending her dark curls to fall over her shoulders. “He’s a bear without it.” With a wave of her hand toward the kitchen, I got to my feet. “He takes it black. Just lightly knock then enter.”

  The kitchen was elegant with white granite and gray specks through the design that contrasted well with the dark cabinets. With Stone’s mug in hand, I did as Tiffany asked, despite my nerves.

  My fingers squeezed the handle of his cup tightly as I opened the door then made my way to his desk. It was another big room, furnished as an office. The rich, familiar tones of his voice lured me to him, and I extended my arm to set the coffee next to him. He shifted, and his forearm brushed my hand as he turned to type something on his laptop. His features came into view, and I froze. It’s him.

  My gut twisted as I realized Stone Crenshaw was the handsome man who’d saved me from face planting last night. How did I not recognize him? A tremor ran through my body, and my hand shook, sloshing a few drops of coffee onto a document on his desk.

  Obsidian eyes snapped to mine and flared in recognition. I sucked in a breath. He ripped the cup from my grasp before I spilled anymore on his papers. Then he stood and gave me his back. He continued to bark orders into his Bluetooth as he walked to the windows.

  Spotting a box of Kleenex on a small table next to the couch, I dabbed at the offending splash of liquid. Effectively dismissed, I tucked tail and hurried out of the office, closing the door with a soft click behind me.

  Tiffany finished up a call and got to her feet with a groan, hands on her lower back, her eyelids fluttered closed. “I want to show you around, and I could use a stretch.” She handed me an iPad, and I followed her out the door, my face on fire from the encounter with Stone.

  When she turned to me, worry lines creased her normally smooth forehead. “Oh no, what happened?”

  “Nothing other than I have yet to make a good impression on the boss. It seems he’s the one who caught me when I, um, lost my balance in front of the hotel last night. And today, I spilled a few drops of coffee on his desk.”

  Tiffany burst out laughing. “Oh, you definitely made an impression.”

  I gave her the side-eye. “Thanks, that’s very helpful.”

  “It’ll be fine. I promise.” Soft chuckles continued as we got into the elevator to head to the second floor. “He hasn’t told me to fire you, so I wouldn’t worry.” A ding sounded as we stopped moving, then the doors opened onto a construction site.

  “How far along is the renovation?”

  “The top three floors are mostly done, but no furniture has been brought in. The goal is to keep the décor close to its original design.” Tiffany’s mouth pinched. “We’ve had some issues with vendors… and the lead designer.”

  “I take it this is where I’ll get involved?” The set to her pinched lips and strained features told me more than what she’d said. This would be a problem, a big one. My heels clicked as we walked toward a tall brunette in a ridiculous formfitting dress and Manolo Blahnik heels. Just looking at her sophisticated hairstyle and obvious designer outfit made me want to turn and walk away.

  My clothes were discount, not designer, and my hair was in a smoothed-back ponytail rather than a sleek cut like hers that stopped in a silky fall, barely brushing her shoulders. I should’ve attempted that chignon Eileen did for me on one occasion. But I’d woken late, and this was the best I could do.

  My nonexistent budget and worn clothes were fine at college. Not so much in the working world. I’d had to shop at discount stores and even garage sales to scrape together a semi-passible wardrobe. I was counting on buying a few nicer pieces after my first paycheck. But designer? Nope. It wasn’t worth it, not when I needed to save money and pay off my horrendous school loans. The full academic scholarship I’d received hadn’t covered everything: not books, food, or the massive medical bills I was saddled with after Dad died.

  A chime rang, and Tiffany swiped a finger across her iPad, bringing the screen to life. A few more taps, and she pulled up an email. “Oh, why did IT send this to me?” She scrunched her nose and messed with the screen another second, then a ping sounded on mine. “They sent me your username and password. I forwarded it to you.”

  Tiffany led me forward, and we closed the distance between the statuesque woman and us. “Celia. This is Adeline, Mr. Crenshaw’s executive assistant covering for me while I’m on maternity leave.”

  I held out my hand, juggling the electronic device at the same time. It slipped as Celia reached out. Instead of grasping my hand, her fingers curled around my iPad, and she rudely read the email Tiffany had sent with my login information. “Adeline?” Her gaze traveled from my h
ead to my shoes. “Hmm, you look like a Brittney to me. Maybe Addy is better fitting.” She transferred the electronic device to her other hand, shook mine then gave it back.

  My smile froze. That nickname Addy didn’t bring good memories. “Well, I’m not, just Adeline.” I cradled the mini computer to my chest, the email still open—what a bitch. There was no mistaking the Barbie category she was pigeonholing me for.

  Tiffany’s spine straightened, pushing out her small round belly. “Careful, Celia. Adeline will be the go-between for all approvals.”

  “Why would I go through her? She’s new, doesn’t have Stone’s vision.” She snapped. “I’ll correspond with Stone instead.”

  “Mr. Crenshaw turned all renovation approvals over to me, and now to Adeline.” Tiffany’s voice hardened. “You will not bother him unless you’d like to look for another job.”

  Arms crossed, Celia’s cold gaze jerked to my face again, and a chill crawled down my spine. With very few words, I’d made an enemy with this one. Although it was doubtful she could compromise my position with the company. I mean, what could she possibly do?

  Chapter 4

  Adeline

  Tiffany and I sat in the outdoor section of the restaurant overlooking the Adige River on my second day of work. After the craziness of yesterday, she’d decided to come in for half the day to make sure I was acclimating. The sound of people chatting and the hauntingly romantic strains of a street musician’s violin a block over added to the experience. Already, I loved Verona—my job, not so much. But I’d change that and make it mine. I had a plan after all.

  My phone pinged with a text, and when I saw it was Tommy, I blocked it. This job was too important to me, and I didn’t want to deal with a repeat conversation of the same thing. Besides, he didn’t love me in the way he thought he did. The real problem was the superstitions he imagined. I didn’t need to be at his games to ensure his success. He did that all on his own.

  I toyed with my necklace Mom bought me when I was young, the weight of the pendant comforting between my fingers. Pushing the past aside, I let go of the jewelry and took another sip of my drink to wash down the last of my meal.

  Our lunch finished, Tiffany stood and wrapped her arms around me. “You’ve got this.”

  I returned her squeeze, careful of her baby bump. My head spun from the proverbial baton she’d passed. This was it. I would run the show from here on out.

  “Oh! I almost forgot.” She rolled her eyes. “I have pregnancy brain so bad. About an hour ago, I got a call that the meeting for Stone at the Bianca Hotel was moved up to today. I changed it on the calendar but spaced giving him a verbal heads-up. Please make sure to do that.”

  “I will, as soon as I get back.”

  Her shoulders dropped an inch, and the strain around her mouth eased as she told me about the change in schedule. “Great. He’s insane about this purchase. That’s the only thing to be careful about. Anything regarding the Bianca is a priority. He hasn’t been sleeping well and has been increasingly grouchy the longer we’re onsite in Verona.”

  “Good to know.”

  She tapped her chin with a French manicured fingernail. “I’m trying to think about anything else you should know. Stone is onsite, sleeping in the other penthouse suite. In addition to the office one and yours, none of the other rooms are furnished yet. You’ll have the unpleasant task of approving Celia’s orders soon.”

  “I’ll handle it.” I smiled, trying to ease her worry.

  “Watch out for her. She has a thing for Stone and can make a nuisance of herself.”

  Wonderful. “No worries, I’ll manage her.”

  “You’ll do great.” She squeezed my hands. “I’m heading home. Call if you have questions, okay? I live here on the outskirts of town with my husband so don’t feel like I’m too far away and can’t help out.”

  I assured her I would call if I had questions, then we parted, each going in opposite directions. I took my time walking back to the hotel where Mr. Crenshaw would be in the middle of a conference call, according to the calendar we shared.

  The melody of the violin faded the farther I went, but the magic of the city remained. For the first time since Mom died, I felt at peace.

  Hotel Destino loomed before me, and I slowed down to take in the beauty of it for a few unhurried minutes. Once inside, I went to the elevators not being used by the construction guys. It didn’t take long until the doors slid open with a soft chime, and I stepped out and into the huge suite where Stone had his office set up, and now mine.

  With the tablet in hand, I cautiously approached his door where I could hear him barking orders to the unlucky recipient on the other end of the conference call. A light tap and I pushed the door open, pausing at the threshold.

  Instead of finding him seated behind the mahogany desk, or pacing like he was prone to do, he sat in one of the chairs that looked like they’d be great for reading and sipping a glass of wine. If I could, I would take that comfy seat back to my room to do exactly that.

  Three large windows that showcased the amazing view did little to drag my attention from his sinful good looks. His thick hair made my fingers twitch with want of running through it. Then there was his graphite eyes and olive skin that were in contrast to my light tones. I rapped my knuckles slightly on the frame. With a brief nod, he acknowledged me and motioned for me to enter. I gave myself a mental shake to clear the thoughts that I should not have about my boss.

  Head down, I tapped on the link to the shared calendar while moving closer to him. My heels clicked on the hardwood floors. Everything was going fine until I stepped on something that rolled out from under the ball of my foot. Pain shot up to my ankle. Stumbling, I wobbled and took another stuttering-step before losing my balance. I pitched forward, my phone flew from my grasp—and I face-planted in his crotch.

  “Oomph.”

  Ohshitohshitohshit! Hands on his thighs, I pushed back and removed my face from his lap. I gained a couple of inches in retreat until a painful tug on my hair stopped me from shifting another inch. Scorching heat climbed my neck. My horrified gaze flicked to his. A muscle pulsed along his jaw, and his free hand was at the side of my head, caught.

  “I’ll have to call you back,” he bit out between clenched teeth to the person on the phone. “Hold still. My watch is stuck.”

  My pulse hammered at breakneck speed as he worked to disengage himself. Trapped, I stared helplessly at him.

  “What the hell happened?”

  “I-I stepped on something. Tripped.” I felt like a caged bird. Why was I so nervous around him? Slowly, I lifted my hands and untwisted my hair from the semi-secure bun. There was no way he was getting his watch out with it up like this. With a few twists, I got the band out, and my hair tumbled down my back. I brushed his hands away to work on separating the strands entwined in the silver links of his watchband.

  My fingers worked furiously to free myself from this position. Would he fire me? I mean, my face was literally… I risked another glance at him. The angry tick was gone. Instead, his dark eyes burned with something else, shifting restlessly over my face, then hair, then back. This was bad. I had to smooth things over, get back to a professional existence where he barely acknowledged me. Something like this would not further my career.

  It would end it.

  I freed the last few strands, picked up the thankfully undamaged tablet, and stood on shaky legs. “The calendar is updated, but I came in here to tell you that the Bianca bid meeting was changed from tomorrow to this evening.”

  “Fuck.” His face was a mask of fury as he stretched to his full height. “Find out if they have another buyer and who it is.”

  “Of course.” I turned too fast and swayed. His hand curled around my elbow to steady me, and jolts of electricity shot along my arm. Mumbling thanks, I pulled free then hurried out of his office. Once past the doorway, I sucked in much needed air. His touch may have fallen away, but not the lasting effects. My hands shook as
I looked up the phone number for the executive assistant Tiffany dealt with regarding the acquisition of the Venice property. Two rings, and Rose answered.

  “Mr. Mariucci’s office.”

  “Hi Rose, this is Adeline, calling on behalf of Stone Crenshaw.”

  “Oh, yes, you’re Tiffany’s temporary replacement. I spoke to her earlier this morning about the change in schedule for the meeting.”

  “That’s what I was calling about. Mr. Crenshaw would like to inquire if there are any other interested parties.”

  “There is another gentleman and his wife, whose bid Mr. Mariucci is entertaining.”

  “Would you mind sharing who they are?” I had already checked that the stipulation of the bidding process allowed for full disclosure of all interested parties.

  “Of course. The other offer will be made by George and Anne Fielding.”

  “Thank you, Rose. If there are any new developments, would you please email or call me with them?” I made sure she had my contact information.

  We said our goodbyes, and I buzzed Stone’s intercom, relaying the details as soon as he answered. It was that or go back to his office to tell him to his face, which I didn’t want to do on the heels of what happened a few minutes ago. My face still burned from embarrassment, and my stomach was tied in knots.

  “And his wife?” Stone’s deep voice crackled with anger, and my back snapped straight.

  “Yes, that’s what I was told.”

  Silence stretched between us for a few seconds, where I wondered if I should disconnect or wait for his direction first. It didn’t take long. He hung up and then appeared at the opening to his office. The room shrunk with his commanding presence. He leaned against the doorframe, and his calculating look sent shivers up my spine.