Sam… was an asshole.

I wanted to call him that right to his face. But instead, for the sake of this job and working with Eliza Rousseau, I played the quiet girl and sat back down in my seat.

“I’ll leave you two alone now. Get along now,” she insisted, walking back to a table a few tables away from us. There had to be about four more couples in this large dining room.

Sam hobbled over to his seat and sat down. He looked at me as if I were a ghost.

“Something wrong?” I asked.

“No, nothing. You look gorgeous is all.”

Hmph, he complimented me… I glanced at his cane again and cleared my throat.

“What’s with the cane. I saw you limping…” I was the heartbroken one, so why did I feel bad about asking him about his cane and limp?  I was treading on thin ice around him for no apparent reason.

“Oh, car accident.” He said, eyeing a glass full of champagne that had been waiting for him. He sipped it and closed his eyes for a second. “Drunk driver, went into a coma for about six months…” Sam pursed his lips and inhaled.

“Six months?” I took a gulp of my champagne too. “Wow, that’s terrible. What happened to the driver?”

“Dead. My sister really fought to keep me alive. Just as they pulled the plug, I came back…”

Oh damn, every piece of resentment I had for him churning in my gut began to simmer down and die out. Six months… they were even unplugging him so he could die?

“Good old Willow,” I said. She had always been so nice to her brother, even when he hadn’t always deserved it. And then, I asked, “Has your recovery been better than they expected?”

I winced, yelling at myself for asking him so many questions. Still, I couldn’t help but be curious.

“I guess so.” Sam shifted in his seat, getting more comfortable. “Doctors said I wouldn’t walk again. But intensive therapy proved otherwise.”

A small light beamed on his face with a quaint smile. Age had done Sam some good. Real good. He was cute before, in an immature youthful way. But now, this wasn’t a cute boy sitting in front of me; this was a handsome man that was mature… and a bit broken.

“I’m glad you’re up and walking,” I said, fiddling with my wine glass.

“Thank you. I’ve been doing well ever since. I even own my own business. Which brings me here.”

Okay, it was time to get down to business. Sam’s face shifted to that of a serious look—

his eyes tinted and his eyebrows furrowed. It sent chills straight to my core, buzzing me with a tease of arousal.

“About that…” I trailed off, lost in the scent of his cologne. Damn, it was spicy, expensive and low key at the same time.

“Yes, I need a fiancé. A woman to marry. A wife.”

I leaned back in my chair, “W-what?” I stammered. Time to drink the rest of this champagne down with one gulp.

Sam chuckled. “A temporary wife though. There’s a business engagement I need to get over with. Once that is done, we can part ways… if you like.”

If you like? Those last words echoed in my head and I was lost for a moment.

“So, I need to marry you and play the good wife for some business thing you have going on?”

“Ever heard of Reign Corp?” he asked me, sipping his drink.

His eyes were glued to mine, and I didn’t know how to take it. Well, my pussy did, and it was clenching its appreciation, trying to get my attention, as if I didn’t already know what it thought it needed: to be taken for the very first time by this hot billionaire I used to be smitten with. But, other than that… my feelings were as mixed as a bag of apples and oranges.

“Reign Corp? That’s you?!” I held onto the table as if I were going to be flung across the room.

“Yes.”

I folded my arms and thought about it for a moment. He was wanting to fake marry me. Talk about life getting weird.

“What’s the payment?” I asked, snapping into business mode myself.

Eliza waltzed over: the money mention was her cue.

“About that,” she began, “the payment for you is one point two million.”

“What?!” I shrieked, clasping my hands over my mouth in embarrassment. The other couples that were being set up looked over at our table and my face grew hot from being so loud.

“But, darling, it’s only paid after the agreement ends,” Eliza added. “However,” she pulled out an envelope, “should you accept, there is a small bonus of eight grand in here to help tide you over.” She looked on to Sam. “I’m sure if there’s anything outstanding you should need, Sam will take care of it.”

“Indeed, Ms. Rousseau. Nothing but the best for her.”

Sam locked his eyes on me again, and I felt butt naked. His eyes… the way they undressed me, made me wet and twitchy. Dirty thoughts filled my head.

“Deal,” I said. My pussy clenched its anticipation once again, this time even more eagerly.

Eliza gave me the envelope and sat some papers down for us both to sign. The rules were straight, and protected both of us.

Over one million dollars would be mine. The eight grand alone was phenomenal, but the one point two million? That was what would bring happiness back to Dad and me. Finally, an opening at the end of the tunnel.

 

***

 

Sam escorted me out to the front of the building. We exchanged numbers and I opened up my Uber App.

“Do you need a ride home, Wendy?” he asked.

The valet drove up in a silver matte Ferrari, and my jaw just about hit the ground. I was always a car person; so was Sam. That was one of the most outstanding things that we had had in common. But back then, we would only look at cars and talk about which ones we wanted to buy one day. He was the only one of us who had managed to make that happen.

“Come, I’ll drive you.” He limped over to open the passenger door for me.

“Well,” I stuttered, looking at my Uber app.

Come on, it’s a Ferrari! I told myself. You’ve always wanted to ride in one. Plus, he’s going to be your fake husband. Might as well enjoy the real perks of a fake marriage, right?

“Sure!”

I slid in and he shut the door. Once he was inside, he drove off. He wasn’t speeding, but the way the car performed felt fantastic. I gave him my address and he popped it into the GPS. Now we were ready to roll.

“Wow. So, you got your dream car after all,” I said, looking around the car. We were so close to the ground. And the way the engine hummed like an angry beast behind us was exhilarating. “Bet turn ins scare the hell out of you.”

“Lift system fixes a lot of that,” he explained. “Plus, as soon as I knew I was able to, I rushed out to get this… in your favorite color.”

I smiled, choosing not to say anything. Then I kept my focus out the window.

People whipped out their phones and gave Sam a thumbs up. An attention catcher, he was always the one people liked.

And the only one I had ever liked…

“Here we are,” he said, pulling up to my shabby apartment building.

“Thanks. Call me tomorrow? I don’t know how all of this is supposed to go down.”

“Me neither,” he said, with a shy grin. He peered at me and then made a small move forward as if he wanted to kiss me. I would have let him, despite my better instincts. But then he stopped. “But, yeah, that sounds like a good next step. I’ll call you tomorrow.”