The Billionaire's Stand-In Bride

Chapter 4

ELENA

Dominic and I spent twenty minutes getting our story straight before facing the reporter and by the time we walked into the reception, I had memorized every detail of our fake relationship timeline.

We met six months ago when I was planning a wedding at one of his hotels, he asked me to dinner. I said no three times before finally saying yes.

"We kept it private because of his public profile and we got engaged two months ago on a weekend trip to the Hamptons, though we wanted a small intimate wedding but his grandmother insisted on something bigger.

It was a good story, it was simple and mostly believable.

The reporter from the New York Times cornered us immediately and started asking questions with this look on her face that said she knew something was off. Where was the engagement announcement? Why were there no photos of us together before today? How did I go from wedding planner to bride so quickly?

Dominic handled it like a pro. He smiled and pulled me close like we've been together for months instead of three weeks of arguing about flowers.

His hand stayed on my waist the entire time and every time the reporter asked a pointed question he'd look at me with this expression that made my gave me those butterflies again.

"When you know, you know," he said when she asked why we got married so quickly. "I wasn't going to waste time when I had already found the person I wanted to spend my life with."

The way he said it sounded so genuine that for a second I almost believed it myself.

The reporter finally left to chase down other guests. I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding.

"That was terrifying," I whispered to him.

"You did great" His hand was still on my waist showing no signs of moving. "Ready for the rest of this?"

The rest of this turned out to be four hours of playing the happy newlyweds for three hundred guests who all wanted to congratulate us and take photos, asking when we'd have babies.

His grandmother was the worst because she was so genuinely happy, she kept hugging me and crying, telling me how beautiful I was and how she'd prayed for years that Dominic would find someone special.

I felt so guilty.

We had our first dance to a song I picked out three weeks ago never thinking I would be the one dancing to it. Dominic held me close, we swayed together. I tried not to think about how right it felt to be in his arms.

"This is surreal," I said quietly so no one else could hear.

"Which part? The fact that we got married this afternoon or the fact that three hundred people believe we're in love?"

"All of it and also the fact that your hand is on my lower back, we're dancing at our wedding reception and six hours ago I was just your wedding planner."

"Six hours ago seems like a lifetime ago."

He was right and everything had changed so fast I couldn't process it. I kept waiting to wake up and discover this was all some elaborate stressful dream.

We cut the cake. I fed him a bite, he fed me a bite and somehow we got frosting on each other's faces. He wiped it off my cheek with his thumb and the gesture was so tender and intimate that I forgot for a second this wasn't real.

The speeches were torture because his best friend James got up, told stories about Dominic that were clearly made up on the spot to fit our fake timeline.

My assistant Maya got up and told stories about me that were definitely real and made me sound like a disaster at relationships which was awkward given that I'd just gotten married.

"She's been my best friend for five years and I've watched her plan hundreds of weddings and fall in love with none of them until Dominic," Maya said and her voice started cracking with emotions. "I'm so happy she finally found someone who sees how amazing she is."

I felt like the worst person in the world.

By the time the reception finally ended at 11PM I was exhausted and my feet hurt from the heels I'd been wearing for nine hours, my face hurt from smiling.

I just wanted to collapse somewhere quiet and process everything that had happened.

But we couldn't just leave because married couples on their wedding night don't go to separate apartments.

Dominic's grandmother specifically asked about our honeymoon plans and we'd told her we were staying at the hotel tonight and leaving for the Maldives tomorrow which was a complete lie but we needed something to tell her.

So now we were walking toward the honeymoon suite that the Plaza had given us as a gift and I was still in my wedding dress. Dominic was still in his tuxedo and we were about to spend the night in the same room .

Fuck, I hadn't thought this part through at all.

"We can get a second room if you want," Dominic said as we stood outside the suite door. "I can tell them there was a mix-up with the reservations."

"That would look suspicious and we just spent four hours convincing three hundred people we're madly in love so we probably shouldn't immediately get separate rooms on our wedding night."

"Right." He unlocked the door with the key card. "So we'll just... share."

The honeymoon suite was massive and gorgeous with floor to ceiling windows overlooking Central Park and a California king bed covered in rose petals, champagne on ice and chocolate covered strawberries. Every romantic cliche you could imagine.

It would have been perfect if this were a real wedding night.

Instead it felt like a elaborate joke the universe was playing on me.

I stood in the middle of the room still in my dress and tried to figure out what happened next because we couldn't just go to bed and we couldn't just ignore the elephant in the room which was that we were legally married and had no idea what we were doing.

"We should probably talk about the arrangement," Dominic said and he'd taken off his jacket, loosened his tie and somehow looked even better disheveled. "Figure out the terms of this whole situation."

"Right, yes, business, we should discuss business." I kicked off my shoes because my feet were killing me. "What are you thinking?"

"One year seems reasonable and that should be long enough for my grandmother to recover or for us to figure out a way to end this that doesn't devastate her."

"One year of being married."

"Of pretending to be married and we'll need to live together to make it believable, attend family functions and probably do some public appearances."

My chest felt tight because one year was a long time to keep up an elaborate lie and I didn't know if I could do this for that long without completely losing my mind.

"What about compensation?" I asked because talking about money felt safer than thinking about living with him for a year.

"The original fifty thousand for planning the wedding plus two million for being my wife for a year."

I nearly choked. "Two million dollars?"

"You're saving me from a disaster and keeping my grandmother happy and giving up a year of your life so yes, two million seems fair."

Two million dollars would pay off all my debt and give me enough to start over and maybe open my own business and actually have some financial security for the first time in years.

But it also felt like he was buying me and I didn't love that.

"I don't want to be bought."

"You're not being bought and you're being compensated for a service. This is a business arrangement just like the original wedding was supposed to be."

"Except now we're actually married and that's not exactly a normal business arrangement."

He stepped closer, his eyes were intense. "None of this is normal and we both know that but we're in it now and we have to figure out how to make it work."

"So we just... pretend to be married for a year? Live together and act like a couple and lie to everyone?"

"Unless you have a better idea."

I didn't have a better idea and we were out of options. I'd already married him so backing out now seemed pointless.

"Okay, fine, one year and two million dollars. We'll live together and keep up the appearance and then after a year we quietly divorce and go our separate ways."

"We should put this in writing."

"Definitely and we should probably include things like boundaries and expectations and what happens if one of us wants out early."

"Ground rules." He was standing close enough now that I had to tilt my head back to look at him. "Like what?"

"Like separate bedrooms when we're not around your family and no public displays of affection unless absolutely necessary. We keep this strictly professional."

"Professional," he repeated and something in his voice made it sound like a question. "Is that what today felt like to you? Professional?"

My face got hot because no, today hadn't felt professional at all and especially not that kiss at the altar that had lasted way too long and definitely crossed some kind of line.

"It doesn't matter what it felt like because this is a business arrangement and we can't let it become anything else."

"Why not?"

The question caught me off guard. "Because that's not what this is and we barely know each other. This whole thing is built on a lie and mixing business with feelings is a terrible idea."

"You didn't answer my question and I asked why not, not why it's a bad idea."

"Those are the same thing."

"Not really." He reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and the gesture was so gentle it made my breath catch. "I'm just saying that maybe we don't have to keep this completely cold and impersonal for an entire year."

"What are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting that maybe we could try being friends instead of just business partners pretending to be married."

Friends, right, that seemed reasonable and safer than whatever else he might have been implying.

"I can do friends."

"Good." He smiled and it made him look younger and less intimidating. "So as your friend, I should probably tell you that you've had mascara smudged under your left eye for the last twenty minutes and I've been trying to figure out how to mention it without being weird."

I groaned and headed toward the bathroom. "Why didn't you say something earlier?"

"I just did and also you looked beautiful anyway so I figured it could wait."

I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror and sure enough my makeup was a mess and my hair was falling out of its style.I looked like exactly what I was which was someone who had the most chaotic day of their life.

When I came back out after washing my face and attempting to fix my hair, Dominic had taken off his tie completely and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt. He was opening the champagne.

"We should probably toast to our fake marriage," he said and poured two glasses.

"That feels depressing."

"Then we'll toast to surviving the most insane wedding day either of us has probably ever experienced."

I took the glass he offered and clinked it against his. "To survive."

"To survive," he said back, we both drank. The champagne was cold and exactly what I needed.

We stood there in the honeymoon suite surrounded by rose petals.

"We should probably figure out sleeping arrangements," I said because we couldn't avoid it forever. There was one bed and I was absolutely not sharing a bed with him on our fake wedding night.

"I can take the couch." Dominic looked at the couch which was beautiful but definitely not long enough for someone his height. "The bed is big enough for both of us and we're both adults and we can share a bed without it being weird."

Everything about this was already weird but I was too tired to argue.

"Fine, but stay on your side and no touching."

"Deal." He held out his hand and I shook it and somehow that felt more intimate than anything else that had happened today. We were married and we were about to share a bed.

This was either the best or worst decision I'd ever made.