The Billionaire's Counterfeit Girlfriend (9 page)

“What do you mean?”

He told her about Hilary’s unexplainable mood the night before. “See? Kind of strange, don’t you think?”

“It is. She seemed to be having a great time. Even Taylor was behaving. I was kind of worried she might make a scene…apparently she was really upset when you dumped her.”

“I didn’t
dump
her,” he said. “We parted amicably.” That was the story he was sticking to, more for Taylor’s sake than his.

“Not what I heard. I was told a few insults were involved.”

“Well, ‘insults.’ She didn’t realize her time would be so short and vocalized her shock.” He’d broken up with her after two months rather than the usual three. But he hadn’t been able to bring himself to stay with her for even one more hour.

Eliza snorted. “Is that what we call four-letter words these days?”

“Her favorite words had seven and, um…ten letters. But hey, I gave her diamond earrings as a ‘sorry to break up so early’ gift.”

“I’m sure that made it all better.”

“Well, she kept them. She even said hello to me last night. So she can’t be that mad.”

“Honestly, I don’t know how you get away with your antics, Mark. I’ll see what I can find out. If anybody was less than polite to Hilary, I’ll know and make sure they’re blacklisted.”

“Really?” He hadn’t expected his warm and laid-back cousin to volunteer such a harsh response.

“I like Hilary. She’s…nice. And normal and down to earth. I never thought to see you date somebody like her.”

“Hey! I date nice girls all the time.”

“Surface nice. I was going to start calling you Ken if you brought home another of your Barbie girlfriends.”

“They were never that bad.”

“Were too. Skinny blondes with enormous fake ta-tas have always been your type…but I’m glad you’re growing out of that. Anyway, is Hilary there with you? She’s awfully quiet, and I feel terrible, talking about her like she isn’t there.”

“Don’t worry. She’s not here.”

There was a pause. “Well, that’s a surprise. She dump you already?”

“No,” he ground out. Why did Eliza think such a thing? He hated how people just assumed Hilary would dump him at any moment. Especially when they were smart people. “If you must know, I dropped her off at her place last night.”

A longer moment of silence. “All right, Martian impostor. What have you done with my cousin?”

“Oh come on.”

“
You
come on. There’s no way you just let her go like that. You slept with her, right? Then went home? It’s not like you to play friends without benefits.”

“I didn’t and haven’t,” he said, trying for a touch of asperity. The light, fun tone he employed so successfully with women didn’t work on Hilary. On the other hand, he hated “serious.” Serious meant the possibility of commitment. Maybe when he found a woman who didn’t get boring after twelve weeks he might try serious. But until then he was keeping things light and simple. He didn’t want to hurt anybody, especially Hilary. “I’m not that kind of boy.”

The laughter on the other end of the line went on so long he put the phone down on the counter and turned on the speaker function. “Are you losing your touch?” Eliza asked, after she caught her breath.

He looked up at the ceiling. “Didn’t you say you wanted to go back to sleep?”

“Uh-huh.” She yawned. “But this is just too juicy. You, heading home alone after a date.” She started laughing again.

“Go back to bed. There’s nothing juicy. It’s sleep deprivation making you hallucinate juicy.”

She chuckled. “All right. Just don’t go join a monastery or anything, okay?” She hung up amid more gales of laughter.

He scowled at his phone. His relationships were never with Barbie-women. He’d always chosen his girlfriends because they were interesting.

It wasn’t his fault they became boring so quickly.

Then something else occurred to him. Hilary was pretending to go out with him so he could avoid getting set up with that heiress. But if they stopped seeing each other after the Fourth of July, people would assume she couldn’t hang onto him for more than four weeks.

Shit. That didn’t sit well. She deserved more than that. Maybe he’d stage a fake breakup scene where she could dump him.

After a quick shower, he put on a blue shirt and khaki shorts. The night before had ended on a disappointing note, but it had given him some useful information: where Hilary lived.

Almost an hour later, he pulled into her driveway. It was already nine thirty, so she should be up by now. Or so he’d hoped since she hadn’t picked up her phone. Maybe she’d just gotten up. He smiled at the idea. Women looked so soft and sweet when they’d just woken up, their eyes languid and their cheeks flushed.

A moment after he rang, the door opened, revealing a woman who looked remarkably like Hilary in build, height and coloring. But that was where their similarities ended. She had a hard-edged mien that said she’d seen and done things outside the experience of most women. The glint in her eyes hinted she might have enjoyed some of them.

She was barely decent. Her big breasts pushed against a thin white tank-top, and he could see the faint outline of her nipples. The ripped denim shorts were so short, he’d be able to see the under-curves of her butt cheeks if she turned around. She stretched one arm along the door frame and smiled at him. “Well, hello.”

“Hi. Is Hilary here?” he asked, keeping his gaze above her neck.

“No, she’s out.” She gave him a vampish smile. “But I’m here. Who are you?”

“Mark. Is she out for—”

“Mark,” she repeated, like she was testing the name. She tapped her lower lip with a finger, then wiped the lipstick on her shorts. “Are you the one who gave her that nice jacket last night?”

“Yeah. About—”

She snapped her fingers. “I knew it! I’m Bebe.” She put her hand out. “Nice to meet you.”

Despite his impatience, good manners kicked in and he shook her hand. “Pleasure. Are you her sister? She never said.”

She laughed like he’d said something too precious. “Sister? Oh my god.” Her hand flew to her stomach, and she doubled over, chortling.

O-kay. This was weird. “If Hilary’s not here…” He turned around and started to leave.

“Wait!”

He glanced back at the still-laughing woman. “Yes?”

“Nothing. I see I did her a big favor. I had no idea she’d trade up to something this nice.” She wiped her tears. “If you wanna see her, try her friend’s place. Josephine Martinez. Or the OWM office. It’s not like Hilary has a life or a place to be other than those two.”

Mark doubted Hilary was at the office. So Josephine’s place it was. Thankfully he knew where she lived since she sometimes worked with his family.

* * *

“Drink this.” Jo put a big glass of iced coffee in front of Hilary. “You look like shit.”

Count on her friend to be honest. On the other hand, Hilary had to look awful after tossing and turning all night long. And she’d spent only a few minutes putting on some powder and lipstick that morning.

“What happened?” Jo asked.

“I should’ve never agreed to go to the charity thing with Mark. I should’ve just joined a convent.” Hilary drank the coffee deeply. As the caffeine kicked in, she felt almost normal. “You think it’s too late?”

“For what?”

“To be a nun.”

Jo pretended to give it some thought. “Gavin will do everything in his power to stop you. He probably has the Pope on speed-dial, given how he seems to know everyone.” She took the seat next to Hilary. “And you like food too much. Don’t they only eat bread and water in convents?”

“The charity event was terrible.” Hilary sighed. “I made a fool of myself, and I’m sure a lot of people there think I’m some terrible skank or something.”

“
You?
Ha. I had to spend days to convince you to wear real shoes. If it weren’t for me, you’d have the most drab sense of style ever. The invisible woman.”

“I wish.” Hilary moaned and buried her face in the crook of her arm. The three in the bathroom had seen through everything. “Walt confronted me last night.”

Jo gasped. “That rat bastard? What did he have to say?”

“He wanted the bracelet back.” Hilary lifted her head. “Apparently it’s an heirloom.”

“What a dumbass. He shouldn’t have given it to you then.”

“I know, right?”

“Did you tell him to shove it?”

“More or less. He said he has no idea who the woman in the YouTube video is.”

Jo started laughing. “Oh my god, that’s rich. Was he serious? He wasn’t on crack or something?”

“Definitely serious. But that’s not all of it.”

“There’s more?”

“Bebe’s in town.”

The snarky humor vanished from Jo’s eyes, and her mouth set in a tight line. “Uh oh. Since when?”

“Sometime yesterday, I guess. She was in my room when I got back.”

“What was she doing there?”

“Sleeping…allegedly.”

“She’s such a piece of work. You want something a little more therapeutic than coffee? One of my clients came back from Russia and brought me a bottle of vodka. It’s good stuff.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m just trying to wrap my head around all this.” Or more like not let her head explode all over it. “Why would she come back after all this time?”

“Probably to cause trouble. She’s still wild, isn’t she?”

Hilary nodded. “Same old Bebe. She was virtually naked in my bed.”

“Ewww.”

“And really in my face about everything. You know… Freddie.”

“What a bitch.”

Hilary pressed her fingers to her eyes, which were dry and irritated. Thank god she’d put on glasses instead of contacts. “I can’t even…” She sighed. “She was rubbing it in. I’m sure she didn’t crawl into my bed without a reason.”

“Of course not. God, I hate her.”

Jo knew the humiliating end to Hilary’s sordid relationship with Freddie. He’d seemed so perfect…so true and genuine…until she’d gone to her dorm room and found him screwing Bebe in Hilary’s own bed. She’d expected him to apologize, maybe even grovel and try to explain what the hell he thought he was doing. But he hadn’t been sorry. He’d been offended Hilary hadn’t wanted to join them. “Come on! You’re a Rosenberg,” he had said. “I know all about you and your family.”

The scene had reminded Hilary of her mother and aunt’s relationship with Tim. How dysfunctional and destructive that had been for both women. Her mother had died precisely because she hadn’t learned how to live on her own and take care of herself. After Tim had gotten himself killed in a car accident, she’d more or less poisoned herself with drugs.

Hilary wasn’t going to end up like that.

A gentle touch of Jo’s hand on Hilary’s shoulder pulled her out of her dark memories. “Hey,” Jo said. “Do you want to crash at my place until Bebe takes off again?”

That was a definite possibility. “Are you sure? She might not leave for a while.”

“I’m sure. Hilary, you really need to stay away from that toxic family of yours. They aren’t good for you, and being around them only brings you down. Trust me on this.”

Hilary forced a small smile, touched at her friend’s concern. But leaving her aunt was easier said than done. As the only blood relative who was around with any consistency, she felt responsible for Lila. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

“No, no, no. You don’t owe me anything. What I’m doing is what any good friend’s supposed to do. You’d do the same for me.”

“Still. Thank you.”

“And—” Her intercom buzzed and Jo frowned. “Hold on.” She went to answer it, and Hilary used the time to gather herself. She shouldn’t let Bebe’s reappearance get to her. Her cousin was manipulative and liked to screw with people. But Hilary didn’t have to play that game.

Jo came back with a bemused smile. “That was Mark.”

“Mark?” Hilary blinked. “What does he want?”

“You. He heard you were here.”

“How?”

“No idea. But he’s coming up right now.” Jo dipped into her purse and pulled out a tube of concealer. “Here. Let me put some of this on you.” She dabbed a little on Hilary’s dark circles. “My lord,” she muttered, “you need to take better care of yourself and not let that bitch cousin of yours get to you like this. She’s just jealous, you know. She’s in her late thirties, and has nothing. No friend, no job, no prospects. Don’t let her ruin your happiness. She’s not worth it.” Jo pulled back and looked at Hilary’s face critically. “Much better. Now you don’t look like you spent all night worrying about some worthless ho.”

Hilary gave her friend a tremulous smile. As silly and vain as it was, she didn’t want to look awful, even if she was just fake-dating Mark. She’d seen the photos of his exes. They were all drop-dead gorgeous.

The doorbell rang, and Jo went over to open it. Hilary’s breath caught at how beautiful Mark looked in a casual shirt and shorts. No matter what he wore, there was a certain male elegance and power that came through.

“Hey, Josephine, thanks for letting me in to steal her,” he said with an easy grin and gave Hilary a friendly nod. Josephine didn’t allow any of her clients to call her Jo. She said that would make her sound too…common.

“You’re welcome. And hey, nice shirt. You need to hire me more often.”

“Don’t worry, I will. And I’ll get my sister to do the same.”

She gestured toward the kitchen. “She’s all yours. Treat her well or you’ll hear from me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said teasingly. He came into the kitchen and gave Hilary’s hand a gentle squeeze.

As he pulled away, she sank her teeth into her lower lip. Mark wasn’t like Freddie or Walt. He was a lot more attractive than either of them—devastating, really—and didn’t just inspire affection, but a genuine longing for more…except she knew she couldn’t have it. She was a Rosenberg girl, and Bebe’s return had reminded her of her origins. Mark was…well, he was the sun. A messed up girl from a messed up family shouldn’t even dream of being near him. He would incinerate her if she wasn’t careful.

Ignoring a foolish whisper that told her to lean on him, she kept her spine straight. She knew the score—Mark was a short-term guy, and she would be wise to remember that. Leaning on men for anything more invited nothing but misery.