The Billionaire's Pretend Girlf - Leslie North Page 0,6

rejected sexual advance or a withering innuendo on top of everything else.

So she’d just be quiet, normal, and keep to herself for the next six days.

Piece of cake.

3

“Finally, Delayed Daniel shows up!”

Daniel smirked as his friends ribbed him. He smoothed down the front of his dress shirt as he approached the table for three on the covered patio at one of San Francisco’s most elite country clubs. It didn’t have the same charm as the diner where they’d planned to meet two nights earlier when he’d just gotten back into town, but at least he wasn’t afraid to look at the health rating of this place.

“I’ll have you know, I made it on time today,” Daniel said, his chair scraping as he eased into the padded seat. The table was already laid out with oysters and sparkling water, sunlight filtering through the trendy thatched roof of the patio and casting beautiful shadows on the white tablecloth.

“Yeah, but you totally missed our Stanford dinner two nights ago, so you deserve some harassment. Even your dad got here today before you did,” Blake said.

Daniel sighed, glancing around the patio. “My dad’s here too?” He saw enough of his father at the office, but then again, they ran in similar circles. This wasn’t the first time they’d chosen the country club for lunch on the same day.

Blake turned to Grayson, jerking his chin. “Pay up.”

Grayson narrowed his eyes, making a big display of checking his watch. “I’m calling it late. We said twelve thirty and it’s…”

“12:34. Don’t forget, buddy, we got here early,” Blake clarified.

“So you were betting on if I’d be late again?” Daniel asked, smoothing his napkin over his lap before reaching in for an oyster. “Typical.”

Grayson sighed as he dug for his wallet.

“How much are you out this time?” Daniel said before slurping back an oyster.

“Five hundred,” Grayson grumbled, then slapped five crisp hundreds into Blake’s waiting palm.

“If I’m late, or if I’m early…either way, someone’s not happy,” Daniel cracked. The server approached then and took their orders. As this was another regular haunt of theirs, nobody even glanced at a menu before ordering their regular fares. For Daniel, it was a half portion of salmon with a fancy kale salad he never ended up eating but loved the look of it.

“As long as you’re not late next week,” Grayson said with an accusing finger at Daniel.

“I would never,” Daniel promised. And this time, he meant it. He’d never do anything to risk messing up the events Grayson and Mila had planned leading up to their wedding. Despite having arranged the wedding in under two months, they’d still managed to make an entire week of it—and have damn near their entire families participate. It was going to be the wham-bam affair of the century, tucked into a picturesque villa in Napa Valley that they’d rented exclusively for their wedding week.

“Are you planning on bringing your cute little bathtub lover?” Grayson asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Blake interjected. “Daniel, I’m pissed at you. You didn’t tell me you had a bathtub lover. Grayson had to tell me when he got to the diner the other night.”

Before Daniel could correct his friend and explain that there was nothing going on between him and Jackie, Grayson barreled on. “Why would he tell you? His flings don’t last more than a couple weeks.”

“Exactly,” Blake said, narrowing his eyes at Daniel, assessing him. “So it all depends on where he’s at in the fling cycle with this one. If he’s nearing week three, then he’ll be broken up with her before your wedding week even starts.”

“It’s not like that—” Daniel started, wanting to set the record straight. But his father walked into view then, his business grin pulled tight with his hands stuffed into his pockets, and heading straight for their table. “Here comes my dad.”

“Good old Mr. Trent,” Blake murmured, glancing over his shoulder. Daniel’s dad was practically a celebrity at this place, and damn near every other business establishment he went to. As he headed their way, he waved to or nodded at practically everyone he passed.

The man was a business shark, as evidenced by his multiple mansions across the world, his insane collection of sports cars, and bespoke suits that he wore to every occasion, whether it was church, the boardroom, or the dentist’s office.

“Hello, boys.” His father’s gruff voice made Daniel tense. The way he spoke to all of them always reminded Daniel and his friends of their position—the kids at the table. Daniel