The Billionaire's Pretend Girlf - Leslie North Page 0,12
days figuring out what this ruse might entail—both the part where they’d have to put on an act for his friends, and how they’d deal with things when they were alone. He assured her that it would stay platonic, but told her they’d be sharing a suite at the resort and would be spending plenty of time with his friends.
So without Daniel at her side, what was she supposed to say to preliminarily win them over? Hey, your best friend in the entire world has been in my life for six days, so clearly we have a lot to talk about. If anything, she needed to pump these guys for details about Daniel. They knew what was up more than she did. The only piece of information she had over them was the name of his fish—but maybe even they knew the names too.
Her thoughts cycled between anxieties about putting on a good show and wondering what the menu might be for tonight’s dinner. When they finally pulled up to the Napa Valley resort, her jaw nearly clattered to the floor.
The place where they’d be staying was an adobe mansion. Wrought-iron gates, dripping with vines and hibiscus, were pulled open as the car approached a brick-lined cul-de-sac. Jackie pressed her face to the window of the sedan, gawking like a medieval England peasant finally glimpsing the king’s castle, not even realizing the car had stopped and the driver was standing outside the door.
“I’ll unload your things,” the driver said once she finally remembered how to stand on her own two feet.
“Right. Thanks.” She cleared her throat, running damp palms along the sides of her dress. She’d drank a glass of wine on the way, and at the time, it had helped to ease her anxiety—but now she was more nervous than ever. It was one thing to merely imagine the pending festivities. It was an entirely different matter to be standing at the brink of it all and realize how underprepared she was.
Because beyond the payout and the all-expenses-paid week in Napa, one truth remained: she was the pauper among gods. The foster kid just pretending she belonged. Like always.
A man strolled out of the enormous dark wooden front doors. Behind him, a gleaming foyer beckoned, welcoming her to a complex of untold wonders.
“Jackie Stone, am I right?” The dark-haired man had to be close to Daniel’s age but looked somehow ageless, like he was a living Gucci ad. He stuck out a hand. “I’m Blake. Daniel’s friend.”
It took her a moment for everything to click into place, but when it did, the words flowed out of her. “Blake! Yes, hello! I’m soooo happy to meet you.” She shook his hand eagerly. As long as she didn’t dwell too much on who she really was and focused on playing a part, she could get through this week.
“Daniel has told me so much about you,” he said, shaking the driver’s hand and taking the handle of Jackie’s rolling suitcase from him. “I’ll show you to your suite and then we can head to dinner. Everyone’s dying to meet you.”
“Well, I already met Grayson—sort of,” she said, having a slight panic attack as she second-guessed herself on his name. But it was too late now. Better to barrel forward like she knew what she was doing. “I’m sure Daniel told you about that hilarious story.”
“I might have heard the executive summary,” Blake said with a wry grin as he led the way, rolling her luggage behind him. A cool blast of air overcame them as they stepped into the grand, two-story foyer. Marble floors stretched in every direction. On the walls hung unique and incredibly ornate wooden art, like a mandala had sex with a forest.
“Well, I’m just so excited to be here, but I wish Daniel could have made the ride out here with me.”
“Delayed Daniel,” Blake said with a little laugh. They rounded a corner to a long hallway with a domed ceiling. Golden lights shone from beneath the floor, making it seem like they were walking on something touched by God himself. “I’m not sure how you put up with it. Tell me, was he late to your first date?”
She laughed nervously. Oh God, here come the personal stories with details. “He was. A little. But it worked out fine, because I was later than he was.”
“Ah, I see. A match made in heaven, then,” Blake said, stopping suddenly in front of a door that read The Plum Grove.