Falling For His Fake Mate

3

Jas.

If I had any doubt Zane was important before we stepped into the building, it vanished the second I walked into his office, and saw the sign at the door.

He was the CEO of the company, with this glorious office to himself.

I mean; he had glass walls, real marble floors, a panoramic view of the skyline that probably cost more than my yearly rent. And then there was him, striding across the space like he owned the world. Which, I was starting to realize, he probably did. At least a decent-sized chunk of it.

“Brand,” he said as we entered, and a man in a sharp suit stood up from a long, gleaming table. He had a tablet in hand, and that look I had seen in every overworked retail manager I had ever met, the one that said I haven’t slept properly since Christmas sales started.

Brand’s eyes flicked to me, then to Zane, and back to me. He didn’t say anything, and just nodded his head like he was saying. “Of course, you brought a woman to a business meeting.”

“This is Lily, and Lily, meet Brand. He works for me.” he said.

“Hello, Brand. It's nice to meet you.” I said.

He nodded, extending his hand in a shake, then he said. “It's nice to meet you too.”

I smiled awkwardly and sat when Zane pulled out a chair for me, trying to make myself as small and silent as humanly possible. I had zero business being in this room, and I knew it.

They got into it immediately, launching into numbers, projections, territory influence, with phrases like “strategic pivot” and “brand alignment,” which basically meant I spent the next fifteen minutes trying not to let my eyes glaze over like a bored eighth-grader in pre-algebra.

But I wasn’t bored, not really, because Zane; he wasn’t just a hot guy with a ridiculous jawline and a voice that made my spine tingle, with all I could hear, he was smart.

He was commanding, too, and everything about him said power, even the way he tapped his fingers on the table when he was thinking.

They were talking about some massive contract… the second one, the big one. And how some other douchebag might get it because, unlike Zane, he had a ring on his finger and a wife to parade around like a prize.

I wondered for a brief moment, maybe that was why he was on an arranged date, trying to look for a wife, but I quickly dropped the thought and focused on something else.

“You do know it's worth two fifty billion, so maybe if you just stop trying to piss your Dad off and marry someone.” Brand said to Zane, but I was too fixed on the money, that I didn't really hear anything anymore. I was just starting to mentally calculate how many zeroes were in a billion when Zane turned to me.

“Lily.”

“Huh, Lily? Are you in there?”

Oh. Right. That was me. Kinda.

“Oh, I'm sorry. I kinda zoned out for a bit.” I said and Zane nodded, staring at me for a moment before he spoke.

“I need you to be my wife.”

The room went dead quiet. Brand blinked like he wasn’t sure he heard right. My heart just…stopped.

I wasn't sure I heard him right as well, so I tried to clarify things and make sure my brain wasn't making it up.

“I’m sorry, what?” I said, hoping I looked confused in a cute, I’m-sorry-did-you-just-say-marriage? kind of way, instead of the full panic that was hijacking my nervous system.

“Temporarily,” he clarified, like that made it better. “One year. A contract marriage. Strictly business. You would be compensated, obviously.”

“Of course. Obviously.” I thought with sarcasm. “Why else would anyone marry someone like him? A devastatingly gorgeous, rich, powerful man, who was… oh yeah, actually asking me to pretend to be his wife.” I thought.

“But why? I'm sure you could get anyone you want.”

He looked at Brand, then back at me. “That's why I'm asking you. I want you to be the person for this. I know you can sell it.” he said.

I opened my mouth and closed it, then I opened it again, not sure what I wanted to say.

This was the part where I was supposed to come clean and tell him I wasn’t Lily. That I was Jasmine; the tired, broke, emotionally exhausted stepsister who had just wanted to take a bath and maybe eat ice cream in bed before her Friday night went off the rails.

But the words stuck in my throat.

Telling him would be doing Lily a disservice, wouldn’t it? This was her life, her scandal, and mess. If I blurted the truth now, I would blow everything up, and for what? For a date that wasn’t even mine to begin with? Or an offer of marriage that shouldn't be mine.

I couldn't outrightly say no, or yes, so instead, I asked, “Can I think about it?”

Zane’s brows lifted slightly, surprised maybe, but then he nodded. “Sure. But not for long. One week, Lily, that's all you have.” he said.

God, even hearing my sister’s name in his mouth made me feel like I was wearing someone else’s skin.

“Okay,” I said, voice soft. “One week.”

I walked into the apartment exactly thirty-two minutes later, the front door clicking shut behind me like a punctuation mark at the end of a sentence I still couldn’t believe I had just lived.

Lily was lounging on the couch like Cleopatra with a wine glass in one hand and a facemask drying on her face, scrolling through her phone like she wasn’t at all curious about how the night went.

I didn't even think she would be back by the time I came home, but here she was.

“I’m back,” I announced, toeing off my shoes, and sinking into the armchair like my legs had finally given up.

She didn’t look up. “How was Mr. Dull?”

“He’s not dull,” I muttered. “He’s a CEO.”

That made her glance up. “How do you know that? He told you?”

I nodded. “I also went to his office with him. He’s kind of a big deal. Also, I didn't ruin anything. He still thinks I'm you.”

Lily’s perfectly-plucked brows lifted slightly. “Obviously. That was the point.”

“No, I mean… he asked me to be his wife.”

That got her. The wine glass lowered just slightly. “Excuse me?”

“Fake wife,” I said quickly. “He offered me a contract marriage. Just for a year, for business stuff. You know for his image, and all that kind of thing.”

She stared at me for a second, then scoffed, taking another sip. “So what did you say?”

“I said I would think about it.” I paused. “I almost told him the truth, Lily. I mean, I was literally one syllable away from saying I wasn’t you. Because I obviously couldn't refuse him or accept him without telling you first.”

She gave an indifferent shrug. “And why didn’t you tell him?”

I stared at her, confused. “Because… it felt wrong. Like I would be betraying you somehow.”

That got a laugh; sharp and bitter. “Betraying me?” she said. “Please, Jasmine. I couldn’t care less. If you want to play wife to some rich man with commitment issues? Be my guest. Settle for men like that. The ones who need to write a check and sign a contract to get someone to play house with them. You think I want that?”

I blinked, taken aback. “So… you’re really okay with it?”

“Do whatever you want,” she said breezily, tossing her phone on the coffee table. “Just don’t wear anything from my closet to the wedding.”

And that was it. No fight, or drama. Just Lily, in all her confusing, infuriating glory, giving me permission to step into her identity like it was a pair of heels she didn’t like anymore.

Which meant one thing.

I had six days left to decide if I was going to lie to a man I had just met… and marry him for money.

My best friend, Cara, would probably be sipping wine right now, screaming, Girl, what are you doing?!

And honestly, I had no freaking idea.