Bought And Paid For: The Billionaire's Girlfriend Read online

  Now my heart raced as I looked up at the building, imagining Harvey up there somewhere in one of the offices. Last chance to chicken out, I thought, just as the taxi pulled away behind me. I took a deep breath, stood up a little taller, and strode into the lobby. I took the elevator to the fourth floor, mentally putting on my character as the car ascended.

  Alice Elizabeth Clarke. British. Wild about Harvey. I can do this.

  When the elevators opened onto the Jenson Pace reception area, my face was relaxed and smiling. I walked with a spring in my step to the reception desk, a long, polished wooden barrier between me and a very thin, coolly beautiful blonde with a tight ponytail.

  “Welcome to Jenson Pace. How may I help you?”

  Here goes, I thought.

  “Yes, I’m here to see Harvey Pace,” I said with my British accent. “My name is Alice Clarke.”

  “Do you have an appointment?” she asked, raising a perfectly-shaped eyebrow.

  I laughed. “No, I should say not. But he is expecting me.”

  She looked at me with barely-disguised skepticism.

  So, whoever all those ladies in the photographs were, Harvey didn’t have a habit of letting them visit him at work, I mused.

  “Just a moment,” she said, turning away from me. She picked up the receiver of her desk phone and pressed a button. “Mister Pace, there is someone here to see you… Alice Clarke; she says you’re expecting her…” She listened for a moment, then said, “Yes, sir, thank you.”

  By the time she turned back to me, she’d managed to mostly hide the surprise on her face.

  “He’ll see you now; come with me, please.”

  I followed her through the waiting area and down a thickly carpeted hallway. She knocked once before opening a heavy wooden door with the words “Harvey Pace, CEO” printed on it in gold lettering. She held the door open for me and I walked ahead of her into the office.

  “May I get you something to drink, Miss Clarke?” she asked. I started to decline, but Harvey, who was sitting behind his desk flipping through a heavy binder, caught my eye and gave a small nod.

  “Yes, please,” I said. “Sparkling water would be lovely.”

  She nodded and left us alone, closing the door behind her.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but Harvey held up a finger, indicating I should wait. I closed my mouth and sat in awkward silence while he continued to look through the binder. A moment later, the receptionist returned with a glass of sparkling water, garnished with a lime.

  “Thanks so much,” I said. She nodded and left again.

  Once the door closed behind her, Harvey put down the binder and turned to me.

  “We must always be very careful that my staff doesn’t overhear our arrangement. I pay them well, and I don’t think they would talk, but I didn’t get where I am by trusting people easily,” he said.

  “Of course,” I said, no accent.

  “Don’t drop the accent,” he said sharply. “Not even when we’re alone. Even being careful, we might be overheard at some point, and it would be disastrously suspicious for your accent to be gone.”

  “All right then,” I said, once again a Brit.

  He opened a drawer and pulled out a folder.

  “Here is the contract for your position, Alice,” he said. “Go ahead and read it; you’ll find it’s as we discussed. You agree to maintain this role, full-time, until I terminate the agreement. You will move your residence and consent to changing your appearance according to my instructions. You will not see any of your current associations in person until the contract is terminated and your previous appearance is restored. You agree to complete and lifelong confidentiality. If you choose to leave the arrangement early, or if you violate the agreement in any area, you forfeit all severance pay.”

  I read over the pages quickly.

  “My associations? You mean my friends and family?”

  “Yes, or your coworkers, or neighbors,” he said. “Anyone you know for any reason outside of the role I am hiring you for. I do not want them to see you once changes to your appearance have been made.”

  “What, like, plastic surgery?” I said, only half-kidding.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. He didn’t sound as though he appreciated the joke. “There will be no permanent alterations made to your body. That’s in section four and the third page.”

  I flipped over to that page. Yes, there it was. He could cut and color my hair; he could tell me what to wear, how to speak, where to be, what to say; but he couldn’t do anything permanent to me.

  I drew in a deep breath and sat up straighter.

  “This all looks fine,” I said.

  He handed me a pen and showed me where to sign. I managed to keep my hand steady as I wrote my real name for what I imagined would be the last time in a while. He took the papers from me, put them into a desk drawer, and locked the drawer with a key, which he then tucked into his pocket. He stood, buttoning his suit jacket and picking up his briefcase and keys.

  “Shall we go, then?” he asked me, as he came around the desk.

  “Go?” I asked.

  “To see your new apartment, Miss Clarke.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Harvey kept his hand on the small of my back as he walked with me out of the office. The suddenly intimate touch made our arrangement feel real in a way it hadn’t before. Ready or not, this was happening.

  “I’m stepping out for lunch,” Harvey said to the receptionist on the way out. “I’ll be back in an hour or two; please hold any non-urgent calls until then.”

  “Yes, Mister Pace,” she said, trying not to look shocked to see us together, and failing soundly.

  Harvey’s driver brought the car around just as we got out the front of the building. Harvey, smiling at me tenderly, held out a hand to help me into the car as the driver held the door for me. Once I was inside, he went around the car and got in on the other side.

  Once the car pulled away from the curb, he was back in business mode.

  “I’ve messaged my sister, Susan, to meet us at the apartment,” he said. “She’s one of the handful of people in the world who know who you really are. She’s also a personal stylist; she’ll get you the clothes you’ll need and see to your makeover.”

  “Alright,” I said, remembering just in time to use my accent. “What does your sister think of all this, if I may ask?”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “She’s less than thrilled, but then Susan’s always been the romantic in the family. It’s a good thing, for everyone’s sake, that I’ve always been able to see beyond the sentimental concerns and handle the bigger picture.”

  I nodded and said nothing.

  “Your family, friends?” he asked. “What did you tell them about why you’re going to be gone?”

  “A cruise ship,” I said. “I told them I was doing a dinner theater show on a cruise ship for the next few months. I can always tell them I got picked up for another tour if this job goes longer than expected.”

  I’d gone online and updated my social media status, pretending to be buzzing with excitement over my new floating gig that would keep me, like, way too busy to post for a while. I’d also fired off an email to my parents letting them know I’d be out of town working, but that all was well. Rose would back up my story with them.

  Harvey nodded his approval. “Very good,” he said, then paused. “I should ask… We didn’t turn up anything about this when we were looking into you, but is there a boyfriend in the picture? Someone who might be eager for you to return?”

  I felt a flash of irritation at the thought of Harvey and his staff delving into my personal life without my knowledge. I pushed it back and pasted on a smile.

  “No boyfriend,” I said. “I was seeing someone for a while, but we called it quits about six months ago, and I’ve been busy with the show and a few other jobs since then.”

  “Good to know,” Harvey said.

  “What about you?” I ask
ed. “Should I be on the lookout for any ladies scorned showing up at parties ready to claw my eyes out?”

  Harvey gave a short, humorless laugh.

  “Doubtful,” he said, half under his breath. He turned away from me then, and kept his attention on the passing scenery outside his window for the rest of the drive. I took the hint and left him alone.

  This is going to be my life, for months, I thought. Awkward, silent car rides; stiff, rehearsed dates.

  The thought made me feel very tired.

  It wasn’t long before we arrived at the apartment building, a tall, perhaps ten story, historic building in an upscale neighborhood not far from downtown. I realized as I thought about the locations of Harvey’s home and his office that the apartment was about halfway between the two places. He’d picked a very convenient place to keep me.

  The driver opened the door for Harvey, then came around and opened mine. Harvey helped me out of the car; that solicitous smile was back. I smiled back at him, trying to get the feel of this character.

  She’s only been seeing him for a while, I thought, but she already knows that it’s different with him. She feels hopeful about him, and that hoping makes her a bit scared. She finds him so beautiful; she can’t believe how beautiful he is. She can’t stop looking at him.

  Yes, that felt right for Alice Clarke.

  Harvey held my hand as we walked through the lobby. He nodded to the doorman, who nodded back to him. I wondered how much they knew. It seemed unlikely that Harvey would have let them in on our arrangement. He was too careful for that.

  The lobby was all rich, red carpet and upholstery, marble floors, and polished brass planters full of enormous ferns. The elevator was covered in brass panels that shone like mirrors. We got inside, and Harvey pressed the button for the sixth floor. When the doors opened, he led me down a long, carpeted hallway to a door marked 6C. He fished a key, dangling from a silver fob, out of his pocket and held it out to me.

  My fingers brushed his as I took the key. I fitted it into the lock and opened the door, catching my breath as I did.

  Even with a limited view from the doorway, I could see that the apartment was huge. Polished wooded floors extended out an impossible distance into a living room furnished with tastefully modern couches and chairs in a subtle palate of creams and browns. There were huge windows spaced evenly across the far wall of the living room, flooding the space with late morning light.

  I walked to one of the windows, taking in the spectacular view of the city. Harvey followed, stopping a few feet behind me.

  “I trust you’ll be comfortable here,” he said; it was almost, but not quite, a question.

  “Yes,” I said. “It’s lovely.”

  I turned around, taking in the rest of the place. I could see a dining area through a doorway to my left, and a glimpse of a modern, stainless steel kitchen beyond that. To my right was a hallway with several closed doors.

  “Your bedroom,” he said, pointing. “And your office, and a guest bedroom as well. You won’t need that, but it would be expected for someone of your status.”

  I nodded.

  “When can I get my things?” I asked.

  “Make a list of anything you need,” Harvey said. “I’ll send Mick over to your place to get them.”

  I frowned.

  “I would really prefer to do it myself,” I said, not loving the idea of some strange man looking through my apartment.

  “That won’t be possible,” Harvey said. “You’re going almost immediately to get your makeover. Your neighbors mustn’t see you once your appearance has been changed. And, anyway, you shouldn’t bring many of your belongings here. You’ll have all the clothes and toiletries you need provided. Having items here that could personally identify you is a liability.”

  “I can understand that, and I will keep things to a minimum, but I must insist on getting them myself,” I said. “If you’d given me some warning that we would be coming directly here, I would have taken care of it already.” Heat rose in my face. I felt my grasp of my patient, professional Alice character slipping away.

  Harvey looked as though he was having similar trouble keeping his patience.

  “Now, be reasonable, Alice—”

  “She’s being entirely reasonable.” A female voice broke in.

  A woman strode into the room. She looked to be a few years older than me and a couple of inches taller, with a slim, angular figure that perfectly displayed her designer clothes. Her hair, cut into a short bob, was black, shiny, and perfectly straight. She pulled off her sunglasses as she came in, tucking them into her bag, and smiled at me.

  “Hello, you must be Alice,” she said, putting out her hand. I stepped forward and shook it awkwardly. Her skin was soft; the scent of a subtle and expensive perfume drifted over to me. “I’m Susan, Harvey’s little sister. Don’t worry a bit about your things. No one follows my car; Harvey’s the one who has to deal with his professional stalkers. We’ll go by your place on the way to the salon.”

  Harvey started to protest.

  “Harvey, relax!” she said. “She hasn’t been seen with you publicly yet. I’ll stay in the car. Can you really blame her for not wanting your bodyguard searching through her underwear drawer?” She met his angry gaze unflinchingly, a serene smile on her perfect red lips.

  The muscles in Harvey’s jaw worked silently for a moment, then he relaxed, just a bit.

  “Fine,” he said. “But make sure you get everything. You won’t be going back until your assignment has ended.”

  “I understand,” I said, struggling to keep my voice pleasant. “Thank you.”

  “So,” Susan said. “We need to get you some clothes and shoes and… well, everything, I suppose.” Her eyes moved over me appraisingly. “You’re what, a size four?”

  “Uh, yes, four,” I said, feeling my face flush.

  “She’s lovely, Harvey,” Susan said, a note of irony in her voice. “Mick has excellent taste.”

  “Behave, Sue,” Harvey said, glancing at his watch. “I’m going to need to get back to the office soon. Can you take it from here?”

  “Of course,” Susan said. “Shoo. Get gone. When you get back, she’ll be just as polished and predictable as you could wish.”

  Harvey opened his mouth to retort, but seemed to change his mind. I looked down at my hands and ordered myself not to fidget.

  “I’ll call you later, Alice,” Harvey said. “I’ll take you to dinner tonight, to Sasha’s. It’ll be a good trial run, and we can discuss some more details of all this.”

  “Alright, then,” I said. “See you later.”

  He gave me a final nod and strode out quickly.

  Susan clapped her hands together, looking at me with undisguised excitement.

  “Well then. Are you ready to get started?”

  I swallowed hard.

  “Yes,” I said. “I’m ready.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Six and a half hours later, I was exhausted. I’d always enjoyed shopping, but after hours of being dragged from store to store by Susan Pace, I think I could go a lifetime without stepping into another shop. She’d started by taking my measurements while we were still in the apartment.

  “Everything will be tailored, of course,” she said. “An off-the-rack fit is just crass.”

  I tried not to think about how my off-the-rack (off the clearance rack, actually) blouse and skirt must look to her.

  “I can do most of the shopping without you, but we’ll need to go a few places, just so I can get an idea of what works for you,” she’d said.

  “A few places,” must have been a dozen. She had me try on dress after dress, discussing each item with store employees as if I weren’t in the room.

  “It works quite well with her hips and long legs – yes, wouldn’t you just kill for them? But I don’t know if it does anything for her neck. Perhaps something with an asymmetrical collar?”

  I’d been her obedient doll, waiting half-n
aked in dressing rooms as shop girls brought Susan heaps of clothes for me to try on. When any of them asked conversational questions about me, Susan deflected them with easy grace, giving away no information. For my part, I kept mostly silent. It was easy to do; Susan was clearly in her element, ordering both me and the staff around with a level of comfort that spoke of a lifetime of privilege.

  I’d given up on hoping that we’d ever be done when Susan finally declared that she’d seen enough and could manage the rest of the shopping without me present. She took me to an out-of-the-way bistro for a quick lunch, and then whisked me off to the salon.