“To what?”
“To you.”
The simple statement steals my breath away.Before I can respond, he’s guiding me through the door, back into the warmth of my childhood home.
And I realize I’m in serious trouble.Because for a brief, insane moment, I forget this is all fake.For just a heartbeat, I let myself believe that Alexander Castellano—my boss, the billionaire CEO—actually wants me.
“Hot chocolate and breakfast are ready!”Mom calls from the kitchen.
Alexander’s fingers intertwine with mine, and he gives my hand a gentle squeeze.“Come on, girlfriend,” he says, and the teasing note in his voice brings me crashing back to reality.
This is all pretend.Nothing more.I just need to remember that, and I’ll be fine.It’ll all be fine.
There’s something about Mom’s cinnamon pancakes and homemade cranberry syrup that makes me feel like I’m actually home for the first time in ages.Manhattan’s fanciest brunches have nothing on breakfast at the Hartley table.
“Carol, this is absolutely delicious,” Alexander says, finishing his third pancake.“I can see where Olivia gets her attention to detail.”
“Suck up,” I mutter under my breath.
“What was that?”Alexander asks, his head turning sharply.
I smile sweetly.“Nothing.”
“You two must be exhausted after your trip,” Mom says, collecting our empty plates.“Why don’t you go upstairs and rest for a bit?Dad and Alexander put your luggage in your room already.”
“What about the guest bedroom?”I blurt out, panic rising in my chest.
Mom looks at me with confusion.“The guest room?Why would you need that?”
“Alexander likes his own space,” I explain hastily.“He’s used to having room to spread out.”
“She’s just saying that to be polite,” Alexander interjects smoothly, placing his hand over mine.“I’m perfectly happy sharing with Olivia.”
“That’s settled then,” Mom says with a satisfied smile.“You two go on up.”
We head upstairs, and I’m mentally calculating which hallway closet has the extra blankets I’ll need for a makeshift bed on the floor, when I push open my bedroom door and stop short.
All our luggage sits neatly arranged at the foot of my bed.My bed.Singular.
My childhood bedroom remains exactly as I left it when I moved to New York.Pale lavender walls, a vintage dreamcatcher hanging above the headboard, and a bookshelf crammed with worn romance novels I never let anyone see me reading.A few certificates and ribbons from high school still hang on the wall, along with a corkboard covered in faded photos—including one of Chase and me at senior prom that I mentally note to remove ASAP.
But it’s the bed that makes my stomach drop.It’s not a twin, thank god, but it’s not exactly spacious either.A full-size mattress with a white comforter and purple throw pillows.Cozy for one person.Intimate for two.
I hear Alexander enter the room behind me, closing the door with a soft click.I spin around, arms crossed defensively.“I’ll sleep on the floor,” I announce before he can say anything.
Alexander surveys the room with interest, his eyes lingering on my bookshelf, before settling on me with amusement.“Don’t be ridiculous.We’ll fit on the bed.”
“It’s inappropriate,” I hiss, keeping my voice low.“You’re my boss.”
“Nothing about this situation is appropriate, Olivia,” he points out, sitting on the edge of my bed like he belongs there.“But we’re in it together, so you need to either play along or everyone will realize this is a façade.The way you’re acting, anyone watching would think you’re miserable or hiding something.”
“I am hiding something!The fact that this entire relationship is fake!”
He sighs, running a hand through his perfect hair, messing it up in a way that somehow makes him look even more attractive.“Come here.”
“Why?”
“Because I asked nicely.”His voice has that edge I recognize from board meetings—the one that makes Fortune 500 CEOs scramble to comply.
