One Midnight Kiss: A Billionaire Fake Fiancée Holiday Romance
One Midnight Kiss: Chapter 9

Rain drummed against the windows, the sound echoing through the conference room. I tapped my fingers on the smooth table, mentally running through a list of all the things I needed to do.

The weather matched the mood in the room. It felt gray and heavy. I could see how stressed Jerrod was. He was pacing, running his hands through his hair, muttering to himself about failure rates and competition. I had seen him like this a few times before, but not often. This was a man usually so calm he could give a corpse a run for its money. Today, he looked like he was ready to throw himself in front of a bus.

“Jerrod,” I said, snapping my fingers to get his attention. “Please sit down. You’re going to wear through the carpet.”

He stopped pacing but only to lean against the wall. I swore he was aging in years instead of minutes right before my eyes.

“You know, Fox, I never wanted this level of risk,” he said. “We’ve got less than a month before Hanna goes live, and if the launch bombs⁠—”

“It won’t bomb,” I said, keeping my voice calm. Someone in the room needed to act like an adult. “Hanna’s going to blow every other smart home system out of the water.”

Jerrod let out a shaky breath. “And if she doesn’t?”

“Then we’ll keep working on her until she does. Failure isn’t an option.”

He gave me a look like I’d just told him to bet his life savings on a horse with a broken leg. I didn’t blame him. The vultures were circling. Big tech companies like Nest and Amazon were watching us closely, waiting for us to trip up so they could swoop in, buy us for peanuts, and dismantle everything we had built. The pressure was real, and it was mounting by the day.

If Hanna failed, we were fucked. I would never be able to show my face in the tech world again. All of my ideas and coding would be bought. I would have to start from nothing. I would have to come up with new code to avoid being sued into oblivion.

I wasn’t about to sell HomeTech. Not now, not ever. I would take it down with me. If I couldn’t launch it, no one was going to launch it.

The tension in the room was suffocating, Jerrod’s fears almost tangible. I found his pessimism useful. I was able to think through all of his fears and rationalize mine.

I put everything into this company—my time, my reputation, every ounce of my creativity. We were building something bigger than just another gadget. This wasn’t a failed gaming system or a buggy app. This was a huge step into the future. We were building a new way of living. I had no intention of letting it fail.

We were the pioneers. We were taking society into the new world. If we didn’t do it, someone else would, but when? And would the tech be as good as mine? I didn’t think so. I knew my tech was the best. It was worthy of being the first. If someone else did it, it would just set the industry back years. If I thought it was difficult getting the public to trust us now, it would be a million times worse if someone launched and failed.

Jerrod started pacing again. He was stressing me out. I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling a headache building. We were waiting on Natalia. She was supposed to come in today with a game plan for our marketing push leading up to the launch.

I had never had a startup fail before, and I wasn’t going to start now. But even I knew we needed her help to make this work. Christa was right when she said we had to do something and do it quickly.

I was actually looking forward to seeing Natalia. Not that anything would happen, but I liked looking at her. I liked sparring with her. It was fun. And it would add a little excitement to the day.

When the conference room door opened, I looked up, expecting to see her. Instead, in walked some guy in an expensive suit, slicked-back hair that looked like it hadn’t seen a natural breeze in years, and a smarmy grin I wanted to slap off his face.

“Who the hell are you?” I asked bluntly, already annoyed.

He extended a hand, but I didn’t take it. “Aaron Abscot,” he said, pulling his hand back without missing a beat. “One of the senior marketing executives. Natalia sent me to go over the campaign details with you.”

“Where’s Natalia?” I demanded, my irritation spiking. I had expected her to be here, ready to roll out her plan herself. I had had it in my mind that we would be working closely together, hammering out the details face to face. After all, she was the one Christa had insisted on.

I didn’t want to work with anyone else.

Aaron gave me a condescending smile that made me want to choke him with his tie. Maybe I was just being prickly. I was in a shitty mood and wanted to see Natalia.

“Natalia is my boss. She doesn’t usually handle the day-to-day account stuff personally. That’s what I do.”

I clenched my jaw. “I was under the impression that she would be leading this project. We’re kind of in a time crunch and this project is extremely important. We met with her and she said she would be back with us in a week. Her. Not you.”

“Natalia is overseeing the project. I’m just here to handle the initial presentation. We don’t want to waste her time, do we?”

Waste her time? That was rich. As if sitting in this conference room listening to a man who looked like a used-car salesman was the best use of my time. And I was paying Natalia. It wasn’t like she was doing this out of the kindness of her heart. We expected the best. At least I did.

I looked at Jerrod, who was already leaning forward, like he was hanging on Aaron’s every word. He didn’t seem nearly as pissed as I was about the bait and switch.

We both understood how important this marketing plan was. We only got one shot. If this failed, we were fucked.

Jerrod sighed. “We have to hear the pitch,” he said. “It’s not like we have another option.”

I was pissed that Natalia wasn’t there, but we had to hear the guy out. They had us over a barrel. It didn’t make me happy, but we didn’t have any other options.

“Fine,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Aaron smiled. I had to keep my mouth shut because I really wanted to tell him not to smile. Whenever he smiled, it made me want to throttle him.

Violence isn’t the answer. Not yet at least.

Aaron launched into his presentation with the kind of confidence only a man who’s never tasted failure can muster. He was slick, I could give him that. The campaign he laid out was solid. I had to admit it was good. It was built around emotion—family, legacy, the environment. He talked about the future we were creating with HomeTech, about how Hanna could change the way we interact with our homes, our families, our lives. He painted a picture of a connected world where our technology wasn’t just useful. It was essential.

Aaron outlined a robust social media campaign that included influencers with the hopes of making the campaign go viral. They had planned a series of emotionally charged short films that would be shown online and in theaters. An army of micro-influencers would share their own stories of how HomeTech has improved or could improve their lives, making it more than just about our product. It was about the vision for a better future.

Even as Aaron pointed out the demographic breakdowns and the potential reach of each aspect of the campaign, I couldn’t shake off the annoyance I felt. I wanted to hear Natalia talking about the proposal. I had a feeling she would deliver it better. Less fake. Not quite the slick polished presentation Aaron was laying on thick.

I glanced over at Jerrod. He was hanging on every word.

“Try to keep an open mind,” he whispered when Aaron was digging around in his briefcase.

I nodded and returned my attention to the man who wasn’t Natalia.

For almost an hour, Aaron walked us through their marketing strategy, diving into the smallest details. He went on about the importance of adaptability and their experience in tweaking things mid-campaign based on user engagement. All along, his glossy smile never wavered.

I had to admit the pitch was good. Really good. They had clearly put in a lot of time to research and put together the best marketing plan possible.

But I couldn’t bring myself to care.

I was too busy replaying the last time I had seen Natalia in my head. Those tight leggings, flushed cheeks from her workout, the fire in her eyes as she called me out. The way she looked at me, like she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to punch me or kiss me. I couldn’t remember the last time a woman had gotten under my skin like that.

“Fox,” Jerrod said, snapping me out of it. He was looking at me expectantly, his eyes wide.

“What?” I growled.

“He’s finished with the presentation,” Jerrod said. “What do you think?”

I shrugged.

“This is exactly what we need,” Jerrod said. “It’s perfect.”

I glanced back at Aaron, who was beaming like he had just won an award. Maybe an Oscar. The guy was way too slick. But he was good, I supposed. I could feel his smug satisfaction from across the table, but ultimately, he seemed to know what he was talking about.

I might have tuned out the last part of his pitch, but it didn’t matter. Jerrod was ready to kiss the guy’s shoes in gratitude. He clearly liked the ideas presented. He seemed ready to write the check and sign the contract.

I stood up abruptly, pushing my chair back with a screech. “It’s approved,” I said flatly. “Handle the contracts.”

Aaron blinked, clearly taken aback. “You don’t have any questions? Concerns? Requests? This is just a preliminary. We’re happy to tweak it.”

“Nope. You’re done here.” I turned and headed for the door without another word.

Jerrod scrambled up from his seat, nearly knocking over his coffee in his rush to follow me. “Fox, wait!” he called, chasing after me as I strode down the hallway toward the elevators. “Where are you going?”

I jabbed the elevator button and turned to face him. He looked frantic, like he was two seconds away from a meltdown. “Up,” I said.

He frowned, confused. “Up? To where?”

“Up,” I repeated. “To find Natalia.”

I stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor before Jerrod could say anything else. The doors slid shut, cutting off his protests. I leaned back against the wall, taking a deep breath. My mind was buzzing, thoughts racing a mile a minute.

I wasn’t sure why it bothered me so much that she hadn’t shown up. It wasn’t like I had any reason to expect her to handle every little detail herself. But I had been looking forward to seeing her, and not just because I trusted her with the future of my company.

No, it was more than that. I liked sparring with her, the sharp edge of her tongue, the way she didn’t back down. She wasn’t like anyone else I’d ever met. And I was starting to realize that I wanted more than just her marketing expertise.

I wanted an excuse to spend time with her. Maybe I did want to make some changes to the campaign. If that meant I got to work with her, I could get more involved.