The Billionaire's Fake Fiancee - Lauren Wood Page 0,32

this whole thing. And you better believe I intend on finding out what it is and exposing you to Greg and the clients. I am not about to let you rip this promotion out from under me.”

“The promotion will go to whoever deserves it the most,” I responded confidently. “So you go right ahead and waste your time worrying about whatever I’m doing instead of focusing on your pitch to the client. You and I both know you have me do half of your work for you anyway. Without my help, which you never give me credit for, your pitch is going to fall flat.”

“May the best man win,” he smirked.

“Or woman,” I fired back as I turned down the hall.

I played it cool in front of him, but the second walked away my eyes grew wide and my face twisted into panic. Those few appearances should have been more than enough to convince him. They did with everyone else, so what was his problem?

My mind was reeling as I walked into the lobby just as Ben was strolling in, hunched over to hold Olivia’s hand as she took her little steps by his side. I was already overwhelmed with Chuck’s threats, and now I had to deal with the painfully gorgeous sight of Ben with his tall body and perfect hair, smile, eyes … perfect everything. Just a week apart and I had already forgotten about how disarming his good looks were.

“Hey,” he said awkwardly as they walked up to meet me.

“Cat! Cat!” Olivia squealed, running into my arms.

I scooped her up into a big hug. “A cat? Where?”

“I think she’s calling you Cat,” Ben explained with his adorable smile.

“Oh,” I laughed. “Okay. Cat it is then. You ready to go play, Olivia? I have lots of fun toys to show you. And guess what? You get to take your favorite ones home!”

“Yay!” she smiled, clapping her little hands.

“Thanks again for coming,” I said to Ben. “I promise this will be the last time I drag you into all of this. We propose our pitches to Greg in just a few days, and then the best one goes before the clients on Friday.”

“I could never deny Olivia free toys,” he replied with a tight smile.

“Right. Okay, then. Let’s go.”

I led them into the makeshift playroom and handed Ben a clipboard with a questionnaire to fill out as he watched Olivia play. After introducing them to all the different stations, I returned to the observatory room with big open panels that allowed me to study her as she went.

I watched Ben kneel down next to her, trying to engage her with the different toys. The way he looked at her and the grin on his face … It was heartwarming and made it hard to breathe. The entire time I felt Chuck’s gaze cutting into me, as if he would find some way to expose us just by the way I watched them.

I swallowed down all of my anxiety and focused on getting the notes I needed for my pitch. Nesters’ new line of toys were colorful and made out of all-natural recycled materials. The man behind Nesters had grown up watching his grandfather whittle wood, which inspired the simple shapes of the toys.

I couldn’t help but notice how Chuck and Greg’s kids had little to no interest in the toys. They were using the pretend fishing rods as swords as our assistants and their moms chased them around the room, warning that they’d poke somebody’s eye out if they weren’t careful.

But Olivia sat in the corner, quietly enraptured with the assortment of blocks and wooden dolls in front of her.

“They’ve got their market for these things all wrong,” Chuck grumbled from his seat. “They should be for infants, not marketed towards older kids. They don’t have the attention span for it.”

“Aren’t older kids supposed to have longer attention spans?” I questioned.

“You tell me. You’re the one who’s suddenly an expert with your step-kid.”

“Yes, I’ve definitely read that. Each year of the child’s age adds another minute to their average attention span, and then it doubles at a certain point, I believe. Having kids of your own, I’d think you’d know that better than me,” I told him in just as snippy of a tone as he had used with me.

“I don’t know where you read that,” Greg chimed in from over our shoulders. “My kids can’t focus on anything for longer than five seconds. Even the teenagers. Our damn nanny lets them watch