RECIPE FOR DECEPTION: The Billionaire's Secret Ingredient

Arielle’s POV The elevator doors closed softly behind me as I entered. I looked at my reflection on the mirrored panels .... I wore a borrowed designer dress that hugged me so tight as a reminder that it wasn't mine, my cheeks had turned bright pink and my eyes looked too wide and too alert. The elevator moved smoothly upward, floor by floor, heading to the last floor where The Lancaster Hotel Sky Lounge was located… it was one of those places I had only seen on T. V. mainly for people whose wallets don't scream for mercy every month like mine. This was Chloe Davenport’s world… not mine… She was born into money, the only heiress of Davenport Gourmet Group. I, on the other hand, hummnn, I think I'll skip details about what I was born into for now… but one sure thing is that I was currently calculating how many packs of instant noodles would last me until payday. I was entering into Chloe Davenport’s world as Chloe herself, just for some minutes. It wasn't like I had a habit of impersonating my friend. She had begged me to, actually. “Ari, please,” she’d said, holding her hands together in front of me, pleading. “You know I hate blind dates, I would rather stay home than listen to some rich billionaire brag about his yacht." “Chloe, no. I can't pull this off.” I had tried to turn her down. But then, she offered to pay me, not like paying me as a hired impersonator, but because she knew I had bills piled up, my rent was also due. I needed money so badly and she needed someone to go on the blind date her father had arranged for her. It was a matter of survival wrestling against morals for me. I needed to survive. So here I was, disguised as Chloe Davenport. To meet a man I did not know. The elevator doors opened softly again, and I stepped out into the beautiful lounge. There were hanging plants with some soft music playing in the background and hostesses who looked like they belonged there. I didn't. “Ari, just smile. Act naturally. Get through dinner, get paid, go home.” I had to reassure myself, as I was already losing it. For every step I took forward towards the hostesses' stand, my heart beat twice faster than normal. The reservation had been made in Chloe's name, not mine. I had drilled myself for hours, the schools she attended, her family's businesses, where she went for vacation, how she liked her coffee and so on. Now, my mind felt blank. “Good evening, Miss Davenport,” the hostess greeted as I got to her. “Mr. Lancaster is already waiting for you.” I almost turned back to the elevator. “Miss Davenport?” The hostess’s confidence pinned me to the spot. I needed just an ounce of that confidence to scale through the rest of the evening. “That’s me.” I said, almost inaudibly. For tonight, anyway. “Right this way, please.” she said,leading the way. Wait, what? Already waiting? I followed behind her obediently like a lost puppy. Some of the tables were occupied , with elegantly dressed people chatting and laughing softly. I looked down at my dress, and yes it fit perfectly into the setting, but I looked like I had wandered into the wrong place. And then I saw him. Julian Lancaster. The first thing I noticed was how tanned he was. He had broad shoulders, and his black hair had this nice shine to it under the lights. He sat there in a navy blue suit that looked like it was made just for him, phone in hand. I don't know how to explain it, but you could just feel something coming off him. Power, maybe, authority. Like he was used to people doing what he said. "Miss Davenport has arrived, sir," the hostess said. I took a deep breath. Then I stepped forward. When he looked up, I swear my lungs stopped working. His eyes were cold. Sharp. Like he could see straight through me, pick apart every thought in my head. I wanted to disappear, and he hadn't even said a word. “You’re late,” were his first words. His voice was cold and sounded like he was here for a business deal and not a date. I froze. “Uh—I’m so sorry, the traffic was—” “Don’t bother,” he interrupted, setting his phone down carefully. “Let’s just get this over with.” Oh wow. I sat down keeping my eyes fixed on the table. “Schools, businesses, vacation spots…..don't forget, don't mess up, Ari.” I muttered under my breath. Then the waiter appeared, and I could have kissed her. “Wine, Miss Davenport?” “Uh, water’s fine,” I said quickly, trying to sound as smooth as Chloe would. Julian arched a brow. “No wine?” “I, um… detoxing.” My laugh came out squeaky. I was actually scared to order something I might not be able to pronounce. “Of course,” he said, but I was almost sure he wasn't convinced. Then came introductions and questions. The questions came sharp like some form of examinations. I answered like a timed robot, trying desperately to shuffle between all the information I had crammed for the right answers to the right questions. “So,” Julian leaned back, “how was your summer in Italy?” My brain stopped. Italy? Oh yea, Chloe mentioned something about a vacation. Where was it again? Amalfi? Florence? Rome? “Rome,” I blurted before I could stop myself. Julian's lips curled… It was not a friendly smile. It was the kind that said ‘ I caught you.’ “Interesting. You told my grandmother it was Lake Como.” My stomach dropped to the floor. “Oh! Right, yes. Lake Como. Rome was… afterward. A short trip. Just pizza. Lots of pizza.” I stammered. He didn't look amused. He set down his glass carefully on the table, looking like he was going to call security on me. “Who are you?” My laugh came out weakly. “Chloe Davenport?” “Try again.” His eyes were fully locked on me now, and I felt like I could melt into the chair. “I...I can explain...” “I don't have time to play games,” he said, standing up immediately. “Tell Chloe to at least get someone who can act better to stand in for her next time.” And just like that, he turned and walked away. I sat there frozen. Heat crawled up my neck. Every chatter and laughter in the background sounded miles away, like I was underwater. “This was supposed to be simple. Sit, smile, answer questions and leave richer than I came,” I thought. Instead, I had just been crushed. I ran my hands through my hair and sighed…. “Well, Ari,” I muttered, “you outdid yourself this time.” I stood up slowly, trying to keep my head high, but inside of me, everything felt upside down. I looked at my reflection again on the mirrored panels in the elevator on my way downwards. The girl staring back wasn’t Chloe Davenport. She was just Arielle Summers… broke, weak, and humiliated. And she had no idea that the man who just walked away would become her husband. And, not by choice.