The Wife Situation: A Billionaire Age Gap Marriage of Convenience Romance (Billionaire Situation Book 1)

Easton drives us to the diamond in the sky, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t anxious about tonight. The elevator shoots up to the penthouse like a speeding bullet.

“I want to make a great first impression,” I say, a lump forming in my throat.

“Wait, are you nervous?” he asks.

I pause, finding it easy to tell him the truth. “A tad.”

“You should be. They’re intense, but you got along with my brother fine. And now, he’s your biggest fan.”

Laughter bursts out of me. “He’s an asshole.”

“Can’t deny that. I know first impressions aren’t your forte, but I have faith in you. Otherwise, we would not have made it this far. And Weston wouldn’t be on board.”

At first, I want to deny it, but then I remember how I met Carlee. And my best friend Remi back in Texas. We can add Easton to the list too. All disasters.

“Shit. You’re right. I do suck at first impressions.”

He chuckles. “We’ll stay for one hour; if everything goes okay, you can sign the contract.”

“I don’t recall giving my answer. Tonight isn’t just a practice run for me, but it’s also your audition. I could change my mind.”

“You could. But you won’t.”

“Keep saying things like that, and I’ll refuse, just to defy you.”

He smirks. “And that’s why you’re the perfect match. That defiant, snap-back attitude is impossible to fake. Everyone knows I wouldn’t be with someone who wasn’t strong-willed.”

I laugh. “And to think, we’re just getting started.”

“Joke’s on you. I’m into it,” he says back to me, repeating the words I told him earlier, but I know he’s not kidding. He doesn’t want anyone to worship him. He’s searching for his equal.

The lights are low when we enter the triplex penthouse, but sunlight leaks in from the surrounding windows.

“Would you like an official tour?” he asks as we climb the stairs to the second floor.

“Uh, yes. I found it quite rude that you didn’t offer last night.”

“If I forget my manners, please let me know. But I think this will be your favorite room,” he admits.

“Your Red Room?”

“Better,” he says, pushing open the door, and my mouth falls open.

I never expected a massive library with a wall of books from floor to ceiling. A ladder that’s even taller than the one downstairs swings from one full side to the other.

“Holy shit. Are those ten-foot bookshelves?”

“Fifteen,” he says as I notice the reading nook with big, fluffy pillows.

“You’re kidding, right?” I ask, my eyes scanning the books. I’m tempted to climb the ladder and swing across it like Belle. “You’ve read all of these?”

“Yes.” He leans against the doorframe as he watches me.

I’m searching for Fifty Shades. I know it’s in here somewhere.

“If I decide to marry you, I’ll read one of your favorite books, and you can read one of mine.”

“If you fool my friends, I’ll read whatever the fuck you want.”

He checks his watch, and I know the time is ticking.

I turn to him. “Do I need to get that in writing?”

I love hearing him laugh; it’s low and sexy, and his smile suits him. It’s the type that can light up a whole town. “You have my word.”

“Great. Now, about tonight … can we show up thirty minutes after it begins?” I ask, following him through the rest of the second floor, knowing if I looked up the word punctual in the dictionary, I’d see a picture of his nerdy but sexy ass.

“I’m never late,” he restates, opening the door to his home office that overlooks the park.

I remember, and I’ll never forget the conversations we’ve had.

I can tell the idea makes him sweat, almost as if it’s too much. Maybe it is.

As I glance around the gigantic space, it’s easy to imagine him sitting behind that desk, staring outside as he works. His desk faces the view, not the door.

“You always arriving early is the reason we should be late. Everyone will notice us entering after they assumed you weren’t attending. It would be out of character for you, but so is getting married. That’s the point. If you want to properly fool them into believing you’ve found the love of your life, do it right. Don’t be cheap.”

He studies me, contemplates it, and calculates the outcome. I can literally see the cogs spinning behind his gorgeous eyes.

“Okay. Fine. We’ll do it your way. However, I’ll warn you … when you ask for attention in the public eye, you always receive it, especially when attached to me.”

“Babe, I was made under pressure.”

“Just like a diamond,” he says with a smirk, leading me to the second flight of stairs that leads to the third floor.

I move in front of him and climb them. After I push open the door, a hushed gasp releases from my lips.

“So, this is where the magic happens,” I say, studying his gigantic four-poster bed with the fluffy comforter on top. It looks comfortable, like I’d float away in it because it’s made of literal clouds.

“No one sleeps in here but me.”

The silence draws on.

“Ever?”

“You’re the only woman who’s visited the diamond in the sky. Ever.”

My heart rate increases, but I don’t dare meet his gaze, so I turn my attention to the three-hundred-sixty-degree view of the city. This room’s vantage point is better than the balcony overlook, especially in the late afternoon.

I walk the perimeter of the space, taking it all in. “People dream about this.”

“They do,” he says.

When I turn to face him, his focus is on me. I enjoy how he looks at me, like he’s trying to solve an equation he can’t figure out. At least I’ll keep him on his toes.

This would be much easier for me if he didn’t have that perfect scruff on his chiseled jaw or a tattooed body that looks like it’s chiseled from stone. It would almost be easy to fall in love with this man. Thankfully, he’s incapable, and I’m unwilling. We’re the perfect combination of fucked up. He can’t, and I won’t.

He breaks eye contact and walks to his closet that’s the size of Carlee’s apartment. A minute later, he returns with a black suit and tie in one hand and a garment bag in the other. “This is for you.”

“How do you know my size?” I ask, taking it from him.

He places his clothes on the bed, then shrugs his rider jacket off. He’s wearing a black T-shirt that hugs him in all the right places and motorcycle pants that squeeze against his quads. It’s impossible not to stare.

“I wish I could say I guessed, but I asked your roommate,” he admits. “I handpicked it though.”

“Hopefully, you’re not dressing me like a hooker.” I suck in a breath. “Wait. You spoke to Carlee?” I think my voice goes up an entire octave.

“I conveniently ran into her this morning and had her sign an NDA before I asked her several questions about you, actually,” he says nonchalantly.

This is why she was acting so strange earlier. She’d just spoken to him.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I think you meant to say cunning. I wanted to surprise you. I think I accomplished that.” He’s close enough to me that I can smell his sweat, mixed with cologne. It’s all man, all Easton, entirely intoxicating.

“She’s no better than your brother. She’s already playing matchmaker. I know my best friend better than anyone, and you getting intel from her adds fuel to the fire.”

“Mmm, as long as it’s to my advantage, I don’t give a fuck.” He chuckles. “She did warn me about you though.”

My face contorts. “What? Why?”

“If I recall, it was right before she threatened to cut off my dick and shove it down my throat.”

I can’t hold back the laughter. “I guess you won’t be sharing what else she said?”

“I won’t. And neither will she.” He checks his watch and opens the bathroom door, allowing me to enter. “Everything you need should be in there.”

“How much time do I have?” I ask, glancing over at him, looking like a bad boy.

“An hour and a half. If you need anything, let me know.”

“Thanks,” I say, knowing we’re arriving late. I smile, loving that he’s not too egotistical to listen to logic.

The door clicks closed, and once I’m alone, I hang the garment bag on the back door. Luxury makeup and every tool I might need for my hair are on the counter. I run my finger across the countertops, which look like they have flecks of gold in them.

This space is him. Everything about it drips luxury—from the waterfall shower and Jacuzzi bathtub with jets, to the marble floor with a big C in the center.

“This tub is wild!” I yell, and I think I hear him laugh.

When I turn back around, I move to the bag and move the zipper down, revealing the black cocktail dress. The price tag is still attached—Valentino, $12,000.

I cover my mouth with my hand so he doesn’t hear me. This is too much for one night. For one hour. That’s what he said, right?

I remove my clothes, slide the soft material from the hanger, and step inside of it. It fits like it was tailored for me, hugging my curves. It’s elegant, but it reveals enough skin to keep it sexy.

My collarbone pops, and I spin, seeing how great it fits, accentuating my breasts and ass. I can tell he picked this out. This is his vibe; hell, it could be mine too.

I pull my phone from my jeans pocket and text Carlee because she’s in trouble. Big trouble.

LEXI

Enjoy your Bridgerton.

CARLEE

Enjoy your DATE.

LEXI

It’s not a date.

CARLEE

Whatever you say. He’s already outlasted your record.

LEXI

Please tell me you didn’t share THAT with anyone.

I’m choosing my words wisely, and while I want to ask her what she shared with him, I’ll respect it. Carlee would never throw me under the bus. She’s a vault, and she knows everything about me from when we met until now. Everything. She’ll do whatever it takes to help me believe love exists, so I can only imagine what she shared purposely with Easton. I have to hand it to him though; approaching her was smart.

CARLEE

Anyway, have fun!

I send her an eye-roll emoji, and she sends one right back. I lock my phone, knowing we can’t talk about this because there can be no receipts. But, damn, it’s tempting.

A bottle of perfume in a sparkly gold bottle grabs my attention. The glass is heavy in my hand, and I remove the lid, spraying it on my wrists and neck. It has a light hint of citrus, and the smell compliments my skin. I wonder if he picked this out too.

Once I finish my hair and makeup, I realize I don’t have any shoes. The trainers I sported won’t work.

I take one final look at myself, wondering if this is what Easton wants, then I push open the door and step into his bedroom, barefoot.

He’s dressed in his black suit, staring out the window with one hand in his pocket. I focus past him, noticing the cloudless sky.

“Wow,” I whisper, only sad that I won’t be here to witness the sunset.

The sound is enough to grab his attention, and he turns toward me. That’s when I notice the pair of heels in his other hand. A smile plays on his lips as his eyes slide up and down my body. I walk toward him, eliminating the space between us.

When I’m close, he drops to one knee and holds one of the high heels out for me. I point my toe and my foot slides into the black patent heel like a glass slipper.

“Louboutins,” I gasp, and he looks up at me with a smile.

I almost feel like Cinderella as he offers the other. Gently, he grabs the back of my heel, guiding me into it. Having this man bow before me to put on my shoes isn’t something I ever expected. It feels too intimate as I glance down at him on his knee for me.

“You don’t have to start acting yet.”

He zeroes in on me. “It’s called having manners, Alexis. I’m sorry you’ve not been around many men with them.”

Easton stands tall, like a statue. He’s every bit of six-two, but with these three-inch heels, I’m only five inches shorter than him. I’m aware of how close our mouths are.

“I got you something else.” His voice is husky.

I study his bottom lip, watching how the edge of his straight teeth grazes it.

He puts some space between us by walking over to the oak nightstand. He slides a velvety black box from the top drawer and moves back toward me.

He hands me the jewelry box. It’s heavy in my hand, and I hesitate to open it. When I do, I hand it back to him, but he doesn’t take it from me.

Inside is a black diamond pendant and matching earrings.

“Easton, I can’t accept this.” I shake my head.

It’s too much.

“It’s a gift from me to you.”

It’s still in my hands as he leads me to the full-length mirror.

He reaches forward, removes the necklace from the box, and stands behind me. “It’s a pear-shaped black diamond pendant.”

His fingertips lightly brush against my collarbone as he places the necklace on me. Goosebumps coat my arms, and I try to push them away, keeping my breathing steady. The cold metal presses against my chest as he clasps it.

“You can’t wear a necklace without earrings. They go together,” he says, dropping them into my palm.

“Easton,” I whisper.

“Please,” he urges, but it’s more of a plea.

I can’t deny him, so I place them in my ears.

My hand magnetizes toward the pendant, and I glance at myself in the mirror, then back at him.

He’s still standing behind me. “The rose gold complements your skin tone,” he says.

“Thank you,” I whisper. “No one has ever …”

His brow lifts. “I’m not no one, Alexis.”

The silence draws out between us.

“I’m going to have a lot of fun spoiling you,” he mutters, giving me that damn smirk.

I scan over the man my arm will be hooked to all night, maybe for a year. “I assume it’s a black-tie affair?”

He nods.

“What would you have done had I said no? After you went through all this trouble?”

“I knew you’d join me,” he admits.

“Cocky.”

“It’s my middle name.”

When I meet his eyes in the reflection, I can see he’s nervous too. It’s barely there, but I spot it. He doesn’t know if we’ll actually pull this off. He has doubts.

“I’m glad you’re joining me because, had you declined, I’d have considered skipping. Truth,” he says without hesitation.

I turn to face him, taking a few steps forward, closing the space. “Why?”

“I prefer the quiet. It takes a lot for me to be in large crowds, but I adapt when needed.”

“I had no idea,” I say. “But I get it.”

“It’s why a lot of people think I’m a coldhearted bastard,” he admits.

“Wait … you’re not?” I crack a smile.

“I guess that’s still to be determined.” His eyes slide over me. “That dress suits you.”

“Thanks. My stalker picked it out,” I say in a light tone, spinning around for him.

“It looks exactly how I imagined. Fucking gorgeous.”

I think my heart flutters as unspoken words linger.

“So, does this officially count as day one?” I jokingly ask, hoping he can’t hear my racing heart.

I remember what he said about only being able to date someone for a total of two weeks before it’s over, but when does the counter start? Not that he’s interested in me. This is a business transaction only. I’m curious as to when he’ll grow tired of me, and if he changes, how he acts on day fifteen.

“Technically, we’re on eight,” he confirms, adjusting his cufflink.

“So, it starts the day you meet someone?” I ask, walking past him.

“No, it starts when I can’t get the person out of my fucking head.”

I look directly into his eyes, knowing it’s one of his truths. One that I understand, but also one that I can’t fully unpack right now so I don’t.

“So, tonight is about reassurance, to make sure you’re not making a mistake, correct?” I quickly change the subject and bring the conversation back on track.

“Yes,” he sighs. “I don’t like performing like a puppet. I have to.”

I see him, see his sadness.

“I’m so sorry. I haven’t considered how this might affect you. Are you sure about this? We can stop right now,” I tell him.

What if this is a gigantic mistake?

Easton straightens his shoulders and smooths his hand down his suit. “I’m more sure about this than anything I’ve done in a long fucking time.”

“Okay. I’m along for the ride.”

“We should probably get going.” His voice is soft, caring even.

I carefully descend the stairs, holding on to the railing until we’re on the bottom floor. My heels click across the marble. I’ve put on my costume and makeup, and the show will start soon.

He leads me to the door, which locks automatically when he closes it.

“Is there anything I should know before we arrive?” I ask.

Anxiousness bubbles in the pit of my stomach as we leave the penthouse.

“Just be yourself. You’re endearing. They’ll love you how you are.”

We enter the elevator, and he continues, “Weston will be there. He attends every social event, twinning with me. Considering the theme, you should expect us to be dressed the same.”

My head falls back in laughter. “So, let’s come up with a sign or saying that only we’ll know. That way, if I have any doubts, you can confirm it for me.”

“I like the way you think,” he says.

When I was a kid, my childhood friends and I used to have secret handshakes.

“What if I interlock my fingers with yours and squeeze your hand three times? Kinda like me saying, Is that you? You’ll return it with two squeezes—It’s me. If it’s Weston trying to trick me, he’ll have to be a good guesser. But if he’s smart, he will never try to deceive me again, especially regarding you.”

“He won’t. Now.” He holds out his hand for me. “We have an engagement party to attend.”

“We’re crashing it,” I say, and he chuckles.

“I do feel guilty, knowing all eyes will be on you tonight,” he admits.

“They’ll be watching us. We’re in this together,” I say, and I feel him relax into me.

We walk through the first security clearance for his private garage and board another elevator.

“How in love am I supposed to be?”

“Just act like you’re considering spending forever with me,” he says with a smirk.

“Oof, that’ll be hard.” My voice drips with playful sarcasm.

“On a serious note, they’re very good at spotting a fake. One hundred percent of the women I’ve introduced to my friends, it’s been an instant no.”

“One hundred percent?”

He nods. “They don’t even have the decency to wait until the next day. I will be pulled away and told to break up with you if you’re not liked. If it happens, don’t be offended, okay?”

“Uh …” I gulp. This might be harder than I expected. “So, you’re actually feeding me to the sharks?”

“Yes, and you’ll either sink or swim.” He meets my eyes. “But if we can fool them, we’ll fool the world.”