Faking For Mr. Pope (City Billionaires Book 1) Read online

  So fucking my employee, temp or not, is off of the table. I don’t make stupid mistakes like Millerson did. Especially when I can easily go to a club, pick out a woman with high cheekbones just like Keisha’s and fuck her well into the morning.

  So why does the thought of it sound so tiring? It sounds like something I’d only want to do in theory. Because in real life, I want the real thing.

  And the real thing is Keisha Turner. My temp assistant.

  If my father could see me now he’d roll over in his grave. One of the last things he said to me was never fall in love. He told me how it was too painful, too messy, and always gets in the way of smart business decisions.

  And he’s right.

  Hell, my disastrous affair with Roberta proves just that point. Falling in love is for amateurs, not this wealthy business man with a good head on his shoulders.

  I glance to the heavens above, saying a little pray of thanks to my father, and letting him know my heart is still intact even though my balls are a little blue. I just have to hold out until she’s gone which should be easy enough to do. Then things will get back to normal.

  6

  Keisha

  I can’t believe that I’m in the office this late. I gaze at Mr. Pope’s mouth as it curves while he speaks. He’s so damn hot that every woman here wants a taste of him. I overheard them at lunch talking about him, as they have done nearly every day that I’ve worked here. It’s as if they have nothing better to do, but to talk about him. Even — especially — when he’s not in the office.

  I’m not sure what the women here thought about my time here. Maybe they’re afraid that I’ll reveal all of their little gossipy comments about Mr. Pope, because they never invited me once to sit with them. Eh, but why should they? I’m only a temp who was hired to work for a few weeks, which is actually coming to an end sooner than anticipated because the permanent secretary (Joanne) is coming back to work early.

  “Will that be all for today, Mr. Pope?”

  He’s distracted as he looks at his phone. He turns pale white as he shouts out, “Fuck!”

  I’m not a stranger to cursing, (my dad used to do it all the time and getting away from him is the reason that I’m in the city), but I’m slightly taken aback by Mr. Pope’s abruptness. It seemed to come out of nowhere.

  “Sorry, Keisha, it’s just that I’ve got an event to go to and I don’t want to fucking go. I forgot all about it, and the reminder just came up on my phone.”

  Rich people’s problems.

  I sigh, “Well, if that’s all, Mr. Pope, then I’m going home now. Don’t forget that this is my last day and Joanne will be back on Monday.”

  Home.

  It feels like a joke saying it out loud, but it’s where I lay my head each night or try to at the best of times; but with the coming and goings of the other girls in the room, sometimes it’s a bit difficult.

  “Monday?”

  He raises an eyebrow and even with his upset expression, he’s still sexy as hell.

  “Yeah, Monday. Although the doctors said that she should take a month off of work to rest after the ankle surgery, she’s coming back earlier than originally planned. I think she’s bored and desperate to get back. So...that’s why this is my last day.”

  “I see.” He nods as if he’s unaffected by what I’ve just told him, although I’ve never gotten the hang of being able to read his expressions. “Do you have anything lined up for when you leave here?”

  I hate to admit the truth. I don’t even know what I’m going to do. I’m twenty-one years old with no experience, and as the agency politely put it, ‘You were lucky to get this job.’

  “No, sir.”

  I stand up and try not to think about it what is in store for me, but it’s difficult not to. I’m staying in a seedy room that I share with three other girls. We all have the same fate; we’re on the run from something, and Gino loves taking our money and not putting any of it back into repairs for the place. None of us talk about it, but it’s the only reason we share a room. It’s not a luxury — it’s the only option for those of us in our situation to have anywhere to sleep.

  None of us talk to each other, we're not friends. Maybe the odd hello or something like that, but there's no conversation about our past, let alone what we're doing every night. I have a feeling that a couple of them work the streets, but that’s their business, and as long as we don’t interfere in each other’s lives then it suits me fine. At least for now.

  “Okay, so how about tonight?”

  “Excuse me, Mr. Pope?” I ask confused.

  “Tonight,” he repeats. “Are you busy tonight?”

  I’m not sure what my soon-to-be ex boss is getting at, but I think that he may have the wrong idea about me. I may be young, have ample sized breasts and a matching sized butt, but that doesn’t make me a piece of ass that he can play with for the night. That’s all someone like him could want with someone like me.

  “I’m not sure what you’re suggesting, but whatever it is I don’t think that it’s a good idea,” I reply with a pained smile on my face.

  Mr. Pope smooths his tie and stands up. He’s tall, commanding, and has a presence like no one I’ve ever known before. The type that’s not to be messed with, and the one thing I don’t want to do is rub him the wrong way.

  I have no prospects and no plans after I leave this office today, so maybe if I play my cards right then this dark-haired, blue-eyed, olive-skinned hunk may be willing to refer me to another department or company or something.

  Shoot.

  I should have listened to what he had in mind before telling him no.

  “This is the problem, Keisha. My ex is holding a party.” He sits down on the edge of his desk and looks me directly in the eyes. “I think that she thinks we’ll get back together. I see her as my ex, but she sees us on break. Do you understand?”

  I wince. “Sort of, but if you don’t want to be with her why don’t you just tell her?”

  He crosses his strong arms, but his legs are wide open. I try and imagine if he’s as big as they say he is. They would be the girls. The ones who love to gossip and never invite me to lunch to talk about his girth.

  “We’re in business together as well. It’s complicated.”

  “I still don’t see why you just don’t tell her.”

  “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  I slant my head to the side. “No.”

  “Partner?”

  “No.”

  “Have you had a long relationship?”

  How old does he think I am?

  “I’m only twenty-one.”

  “Ah, so young.” Then he smirks. “If Roberta saw me with someone then she’ll probably move on. Most likely... I’ve told her so fucking many times that it’s not working. We weren’t even dating. We were…” He nods his head as if he’s trying to convince himself, “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. If you come and she thinks that I’m with someone else, especially someone that looks like you, then it’ll be a relief.”

  “Someone that looks like me?”

  “Pretty.”

  He sighs as he gets up. All I seem to be able to do is to sit and stare at him. I’ve never been around a man like him before. Most of the guys in the office are cocky and slightly arrogant, but there’s something about Mr. Pope — as soon as he walks into the room he commands everyone’s attention. Then again, he is the boss. He’s supposed to have that effect on everyone.

  “So you just want me to go with you to this party?”

  “Yes and just to make sure that she gets the message, we’ll say that you’re my fiancee.”

  “Fiancee?”

  “You can pull that off, right?”

  “So all you want me to do is go to the party and act like your fiancee?”

  “Yep.”

  “That’s it?”

  He smirks.

  “That’s it, Keisha.”

  Maybe I misread him.

  “Sorry, I guess I just go
t the wrong idea. I thought that you had something else in mind.”

  His eyes just stare at me. He says nothing, and it should make me feel uncomfortable, but it has the complete opposite effect. I feel as if he’s trying to silently convince me to agree to his request, and it’s working, because that’s exactly what I intend to do right now.

  “Okay, well can I just go home and change?”

  Into what I have no idea.

  He may not have noticed, because he was in and out of the office for most of the two weeks that I’ve been working here, but I don’t have many outfits.

  He turns around and says, “No need. Grab your stuff, and we can get you something on the way. I know a great boutique.”

  I’m so relieved when he says that, because apart from the suit that I’m wearing and the shirts that I rotate through every three days, I don’t have anything to wear to a party. Well, not his type of party anyway. I bet there’ll be people like him there.

  Rich. Sophisticated. And most likely they'll have so many educational certificates that they could decorate a wall with them.

  I no longer want to go, but, I do it anyway. I’m not ready for my time with him to be over.

  “Sure, right away.”

  I stand up to leave and quicker than my heels can get me to the door is when he blurts out, “Keisha.”

  Uh oh, he’s changed his mind.

  “Thanks.”

  My heart skipped a beat when he called my name just now. Mr. Pope’s so out of my league, but I’m flattered that he thinks I’m pretty and that he would consider going out with someone like me.

  Even if it’s not real.

  Even if it’s fake.

  Even if it’s only for one night.

  7

  Nicholas

  Am I a glutton for punishment? I can’t believe that I am taking my temp on a shopping spree. I need to get this party over with stat. Keisha’s the kind of girl that’s too innocent for me. Too young. Too shy. Not the typical girl I date. And definitely not the woman I should be bringing to this party full of venomous bitches including Roberta. They will eat her alive once I tell them that she’s my new fiancee.

  I knew it the moment I walked into the office. That Keisha was different, special, and getting under my skin in the worst way. For all of those reasons, I thought that her working for me was a bad idea until she told me that she was leaving. That shit made me reflect.

  I’d miss watching her painted red lips sip her coffee with extra creme. I’d miss watching her cut her sandwich into the perfect four triangles for lunch. I’d miss seeing her tight ass in that black pencil skirt she wears every fucking day because damn, it’s the perfect ass no matter how redundant the outfit covering it is.

  She probably doesn’t think that I notice, but my guess is that she’s struggling financially. She rotates through the same couple of outfits, she doesn’t go to lunch with the girls, and I’ve seen her more than once sitting at her desk eating the same tired turkey sandwich day in and day out. But these are things I’m not supposed to notice. Things I shouldn’t even care about. It’s none of my business.

  She’s a young woman at the beginning of her career; of course she doesn’t have any money. I shouldn’t be giving it or her a second thought. Instead, all I seem to do is think about her nonstop. Last night I caught myself jerking off to mental images of her sweet little body under mine.

  “So do you think that you’ve seen anything you like?”

  She sighs. “They’re all so beautiful, Mr. Pope. I don’t know which one to pick. I feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.”

  I’m at a store that I’ve visited a couple of times with one of the girls that I used to date, or rather, one of the girls that I fuck once in awhile and take to events. I don’t have many of them–after all, I don’t want them to get the wrong idea. Especially after I dated Roberta, I’ve been careful about the way I treat women, but knowing I’m not going to see Keisha after tonight means it’s a risk worth taking.

  “You shouldn’t compare this situation to Pretty Woman. Number one, you’re not a prostitute and I’m not the kind of guy that picks up prostitutes. We’re just buying a dress for you to come to the party with me.”

  She nods her head. “Sorry.”

  I shake my head thinking maybe I was too harsh. “Not a problem. Just find a dress.”

  I feel like a fucking sugar daddy walking with her. I’m trying to keep my distance, but still stay close, making sure none of the employees treat her like she’s a thief or anything. I know what they’re fucking like. I’ve been here a couple of times, but not enough to be considered a regular.

  I sigh as I see her walking up and down the aisle like fucking Alice in Wonderland. She keeps picking up the dresses and then puts them down again. A red one. A black one. A bright orange one.

  What the fuck?

  “Keisha, why don’t you just pick something and try it on?”

  “Are we late?”

  “No, it’s not about that. It’s about the fact that we’re looking to spend the night here at this rate. We’ve been here for thirty minutes.” Okay, so I’m timing her, but that’s beside the point. “And you keep picking things up and putting them down. It’s a designer store; there’s no way they have nothing that you like. Then again, maybe they don’t, and we should just go elsewhere.”

  “Errh,” she says as she grabs my arm, her soft fingers on my shirt making my cock go hard. She’s too fucking innocent. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea inviting her out tonight. I feel like I’m going to take advantage of her just because I know that it’ll be so easy to do.

  “It’s just that the prices are so high. I just feel bad making you buy something that I’m only going to wear for one night,” she whispers, and her beautiful almond shaped eyes look so damn genuine when she says it.

  Shit, she’s past innocent.

  What is she, a fucking nun?

  Most girls would fucking jump at the chance of just picking out a dress, and they wouldn’t even look at the price tag because they’re not paying. She’s too fucking sweet, sensitive, and fucking sexy like this. What the fuck is wrong with her? She’s not normal.

  “I’m paying. Not you. I’ll be the judge if it’s too expensive. Plus you have to look the part. My fiancee wouldn’t have on any cheap shit. Roberta knows that.”

  Keisha’s face drops.

  Shit, I’m not used to women like her. The innocent ones. The type that could break down in tears if I keep talking to her like this. I need to fucking calm down and stop.

  “Fine, I liked the black one. The second one I picked up. I’ll try that on.”

  “The cheapest one.”

  “I like it,” she retorts defiantly.

  Wow, I thought that I perhaps broke her spirit, but looks like I didn’t. Maybe I was wrong about her after all.

  “And what about this coral number?” I suggest. It’s the sexiest dress out of them all.

  “Oh no, I can’t wear a bra with that one and I need to.”

  Fuck my cock just went hard at her confession. She must have noticed, because she looks away from me as if she’s embarrassed.

  One of the sales assistants pops out of nowhere and says, “Good evening. My name’s Harper. This is our latest Halston Heritage collection which I put on display about an hour ago, so no one has this yet,” she whispers as if it’s a big secret. “Sure, it has no back, but the front has support. Here, feel.”

  Like a kid in a candy store, Keisha follows her instructions and then nods in agreement.

  “Also, with the bow at the back, I’m sure that your boyfriend’s going to love you in it.” Harper giggles as she looks at me. “Trust me, with your curves, it’ll look beautiful. Trust me,” she smiles as she says the last line.

  I’m speechless because I never saw the back of the dress; it’s lace and leaves nothing to the imagination.

  Fuck.

  She’ll be the talk of the night in that hot number. I’m surprised that Keisha
agrees to try it on as she follows the assistant to the changing rooms.

  “Don’t worry; we won’t be long,” Harper calls out to me, but by that time Keisha’s following her practically skipping to the changing room.

  I decide to sit in one of the leather chairs. There’s a guy sitting next to me, playing on his phone. He’s trying to look professional, but it’s clear that he’s playing a game as I hear it chime. I don’t play games; I have a business to run. I check my emails and wait patiently. I should have gone home to change or grab one of the spare shirts I keep in the office, but I couldn’t be bothered to try and look nice. I just want Roberta off my back, I just want this deal over with, but with the way Keisha’s going to be looking tonight I’m not sure I’ll be able to stay at the party that late.

  Fuck.

  I’m not even sure that I want to go anymore. I want to take her home and pop her fucking cherry. I bet she’s a virgin because she’s too innocent to be anything else, and seeing as she’s no longer working for me, I think that’s exactly what I’ll do.

  I wasn’t timing her, but finally, Keisha comes out of the changing room, and she looks like a fucking million dollars. Her hair is tied up in a loose bun with a few loose curls framing her face. She has on fresh makeup including a golden hued lipstick which emphasizes her caramel complexion. She has on new shoes and even the walk that she’s walking towards me is different — it’s as if she’s come out with a new attitude. More confidence. And it’s sexy on her. I like it. A lot. And there’s more than just like it. It’s something I haven’t noticed on her before. Her body was made for that dress; even the guy sitting next to me is paying attention to her. Shit, everyone in the damn store is.

  I nearly drop my phone as I say, “No matter how much it costs, this dress is worth every penny. You look like a million dollars.”

  A big smile appears on her face as she says, “I feel like one, sir.”

  If she calls me that one more time, my dick might pop through my pants. I take a deep breath, stand up, and hold out my arm. I want her by my side. The way she’s looking is driving me insane, and I want everyone to know that she’s mine.