One Midnight Kiss: A Billionaire Fake Fiancée Holiday Romance
One Midnight Kiss: Chapter 12

It had been a few days since the debacle with my car. I was avoiding Fox like the plague.

I was humiliated and angry with myself. I hated that Fox swooped in and saved me. He was the knight in shining armor I didn’t want. I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eyes. I had a feeling he would be smug.

I couldn’t deal with it.

I looked around the boardroom. The creative team was waiting for me to give them their marching orders. The first wave of advertising was going live tomorrow, with a larger campaign happening during the symposium Fox invited me to attend. I was nervous. I couldn’t explain why. But I really wanted to make sure we did well for him.

I might not be the first in line to buy the tech, but I had been doing some research. I knew it was inevitable. We may as well be part of the team shepherding it into the future.

“I think that’s it,” I said.

They all looked at me like I was crazy. It was early. They were all prepared to put in a long day. Normally, I would be here for the long haul. But for the first time in three years, I was going to be calling it an early day.

“If you guys have questions, shoot me an email,” I said. “That’s all I have.”

At first, it was just one of them. Then the others all scrambled to get their stuff together. They practically tripped over each other in their rush to get out. They were worried I was going to change my mind.

I wasn’t.

My first early day should have been for a better reason. It wasn’t because I finally decided to prioritize self-care. It wasn’t because I finished my workload early or because I had something exciting planned for the evening. No, it was because I couldn’t shake this awful, sluggish feeling that had been creeping up on me all day. I never got sick, so it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be that. Viruses and germs knew better than to mess with me. I was healthy. I drank green smoothies loaded with all kinds of stuff that boosted my immune system.

I refused to be sick.

I was just tired. Totally different. It was exhaustion catching up to me after spending the last two weeks in overdrive, pulling together the last-minute miracle campaign for HomeTech. For Fox.

I hated thinking of it that way. I hated even more that Fox had become a permanent fixture in my head since that night in the rain. It wasn’t Fox’s project. I was thinking about him like he was a friend. He wasn’t. We weren’t going to hang out. He was a client. Not even my client. The firm’s.

My phone buzzed on the table with a notification from Penelope. Meeting at four canceled.

I tapped out a quick reply, excusing her for the afternoon. I felt guilty leaving work and making Penelope stay. She had been busting her ass the last two weeks as well. We both deserved a few extra hours to recharge our batteries.

I went back to my office and gathered my things, practically dragging my feet as I walked to the elevator. The doors slid closed, and I leaned my head back against the wall, closing my burning eyes for a precious second.

The jolt when we hit the lobby snapped me awake. I stood up straight and pretended I was totally alert. No one else seemed to notice. I walked out of the building into the parking garage. In my car, I debated what to do next. It felt strange to be leaving the office so early.

Christa would be getting off soon, assuming there wasn’t an emergency or some other disruption in her routine. And she and I had not had any chance to catch up with just the two of us in a while. After sending a quick text to her, I drove to her house. The city blurred past me. I was so exhausted I barely paid attention to the Christmas decorations going up.

I knocked on her door and heard the dogs losing their shit. A moment later, Christa opened the door still wearing her scrubs.

“Hey!” she said, nudging the dogs back with her leg.

“Did you just get home?”

She nodded. “I actually got to leave on time. Shocker.”

I followed her inside, the dogs nearly taking me to my knees. Before they could, we sat down in the living room and I practically melted into the sofa.

Christa eyed me curiously. “Are you feeling okay? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine,” I lied. “Just tired. It’s been a long couple of weeks.”

“Yeah, I figured,” she said before taking a sip from her mug. “Fox is gearing up for the big product launch and you’re on the front lines. It can’t be easy.”

Her casual mention of Fox sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. I tried to keep my expression neutral, but Christa noticed. She always noticed.

I sighed, giving in. “It’s been a lot. His tech is interesting, but people might not be ready for it yet.”

She shrugged. “So make them ready. People don’t know what they want until you marketers tell them. And they’ll believe anything they read on social media. You’ve got this.”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’ve got a plan moving into action, but I’m still trying to wrap my head around Fox’s tech. It’s all wires and gigabytes.”

Christa laughed, leaning back against the couch. “Well, if anyone can handle Fox, it’s you. You’re just what he needs.”

I snorted, thinking back to the night in his car, to the way he’d insisted on helping me. It was a rare moment of vulnerability on my part, and it hadn’t sat well with me. I had avoided him at every opportunity after that, determined to keep things strictly professional. The lines between us couldn’t get blurred like they had that night.

“So, what do you think of him?” Christa’s tone was casual, but there was a gleam of curiosity in her eyes.

“He’s fine,” I said flatly.

“Fine? That’s it? You guys seemed to get along at dinner.”

I rolled my eyes. “What do you want me to say, Christa? He’s your brother-in-law. You know him better than I do.”

“True,” she mused, tapping her fingers against her mug. “Wilder says Fox can be a bit of a dog, you know? Doesn’t keep a girlfriend for long, likes to play the field.”

The oddest sensation twisted in my gut. Was it jealousy? That was absurd. I hardly knew the man. I rubbed at my temple, trying to ease the headache building there. I definitely needed sleep. “Why are we talking about his dating habits?”

“I was just wondering if you’ve gotten to know him since you guys are working together.”

“I’m not working with him,” I said. “Not really. We had one brief meeting.”

I chose not to mention the drink and the fact he rescued me.

“But he’s fun, right? Sometimes.”

I frowned at her. “What’s going on? I know you. I know when you’re angling for something. Please don’t tell me you’re trying to set me up with your brother-in-law. You just told me he’s a player. A man whore.”

Christa grinned. “Right, that’s his image. So I told him he should get himself a fiancée.”

I nearly choked. “A fiancée? Are you high? Please don’t tell me you’re looking at me to fill that role.”

“It’s a great PR move. Search that creative marketing brain of yours. You know it’s true. He’s got this reputation as a playboy, and if he wants to appeal to a wider consumer base, especially families, he needs to soften that image. Show he’s not just a bachelor billionaire but someone relatable. This tech he is launching is important. He needs people to take him seriously.”

“Relatable,” I repeated, still incredulous. “So, what? You’re suggesting a fake engagement? Do you know how many ways that could blow up in everyone’s faces?”

She shrugged. “It’s not the worst idea. I’m sure you two could keep it a secret.”

I snorted and shook my head. “That’s not the only part that could go wrong. I think I’m running a fever. That’s the only explanation for why I’m even listening to this.”

Christa’s playful smile faltered. She stared directly at me, looking directly into my eyes. “Are you really okay? I know this time of year is tough for you.”

I braced myself against the wave of memories I had been trying so hard to ignore. “I’m fine,” I said again, but my voice lacked conviction.

“It’s been almost a year since the divorce.” She frowned. “Is it something we should celebrate, like an anniversary? Or are we just trying to forget about it?”

I swallowed hard, feeling the familiar burn of old wounds. “It’s fine. I try not to think about it but I’m not in denial or anything. And I have no doubt my life is better now. It just stings when someone you trust betrays you like that. It makes you question everything.”

“Yeah, it just plain sucks. You deserve better than that, Nat. You know you do.”

I nodded, but I doubted I would ever trust someone with my heart again. No one would ever have that kind of power over me again. I was better off without him, but I still carried the remnants of our broken marriage like a weight around my neck. He had moved on. Hell, he moved on before we ever split up.

Sometimes I imagined it must be so freeing to be an asshole. Just cruising through life with no concern for other people’s feelings, doing whatever you wanted without sparing a glance in the rearview mirror at the broken people you left behind. They probably had no trouble sleeping.

I rubbed at my tired eyes and tried not to dwell on such sour thoughts. Giving up and being like them wasn’t an option.

Christa quickly shifted gears. “Are you going to that ball in Paris again this year?”

I blinked, momentarily thrown off. “What?”

“The ball,” she said, eyes twinkling. “You know, the one where you met your mysterious prince last year?”

“No. I haven’t received another invite.”

“You’re hoping it comes, though,” she teased. “Admit it. You’ve been pining over that guy for a whole year.”

“I have not,” I said, but it sounded weak, even to me. “Okay, maybe I’ve thought of him from time to time.”

Christa’s laugh was gentle. “So have I, and I wasn’t even there. It’s like something out of a fairy tale. You meet a man on a balcony in Paris, share a kiss, and plan to see him again a year later? Be still my heart.”

“Maybe I imagined the whole thing,” I said quietly. “Maybe it was just a dream. The wine was strong, and the champagne was stronger. And I was feeling pretty raw.”

“I hope you find your prince, Natalia.”

I forced a smile. “Yeah. Me too. Until then, I have to settle for Fox.”

We shared a laugh and started talking about our holiday plans. I was looking forward to it, despite the reminder of my rotten marriage.

I left Christa’s house not long after that, feeling both comforted and saddened by our conversation. My car, freshly returned from the shop, smelled like leather cleaner and new tires. I glanced at the back seat as I pulled out of the driveway and noticed Fox’s sweatshirt and sweatpants still crumpled there.

Considering all his flashy suits and designer clothes, I was surprised he owned clothing like that at all. I had assumed even his pajamas would be silk or maybe some other fabric that only the ultra-rich people knew about.

I should return the clothes. It was ridiculous to keep them, and yet every time I thought about doing it, something stopped me.

I shook my head, trying to clear the thoughts that always sprang to life when I thought about Fox. I was reading too much into everything. I was tired, and I needed sleep. That was all.

By the time I got home, the dull ache in my head had grown into a pounding throb, and my throat felt like sandpaper. I dumped my purse on the floor, kicked off my shoes, and headed straight for the bedroom. I stripped and pulled on my favorite sweats and the T-shirt from Yale that was barely even a shirt at this point. The covers felt like a cocoon as I slipped beneath them and curled into a ball.

I closed my eyes, telling myself I would just rest for a bit. Just a short nap, and then I would get up and figure out my life.