Imposter: A Billionaire Single Dad Romance Read online

  Note to self: never trust this girl to keep a secret, he thought, the clumsy game of pretend she was playing causing the corner of his lips to crinkle into a smirk.

  "It's been a while," Scott said.

  "Yeah, it has been."

  A heavy silence hung over the two for a long moment.

  "You've…really grown up," said Scott.

  Four? Five years? Scott tried to figure out just how long it had been since he had seen the girl –the woman, he corrected himself- sitting before him.

  Years ago, Scott was engaged to a young woman named Regina. Tall, beautiful, and sophisticated, Regina was everything in a woman that Scott thought he wanted. She even seemed to have a way with Olivia, his daughter. But things went south, and the engagement was called off.

  And now, years later, sitting before him was one of the younger girls that Scott had met in passing. Beautiful women like Regina had a way of attracting hangers-on, girls who weren't the prettiest flowers in the garden. Scott remembered meeting Ashley with crystal clarity, recalling her mousey features, skinny, gawky body, uneven complexion and frumpy sense of dress.

  God, Scott thought, busying himself with his laptop as he considered this new turn of events, she had to have been, what, seventeen at the time?

  The woman who sat before him was so different than the girl he'd once met he could hardly believe it was the same person. Her splotchy, reddish complexion was now clear and glowing with a hint of ivory white; her skinny body had filled out in all the right places, the hourglass curves of a bombshell were hinted at through her tasteful business dres, her frizzy rat's nest hair was now elegant and straight, framing perfectly her bright, green eyes, pert nose, and full, red lips.

  Talk about a late bloomer, Scott thought.

  "Apologies," he said, setting his laptop on the table and crossing his legs, "for both my lack of preparation, and my poor hosting. Would you like a cup of coffee? Some water?"

  "Oh, think nothing of it," said Ashley. "But I'm fine, thank you."

  "Very well," said Scott, sitting up straight, forcing his eyes from drifting down to Ashley's shapely legs. "Well, to be honest, you're exactly what I'm looking for. You appear to be a diligent student, my headhunter told me you were the picture of professionalism, and your schedule seems to be a perfect fit with my own."

  Scott watched as Ashley's face reddened. Not one for compliments, I see.

  "Oh, thank you. Yes, I think I'd be a great fit for the job, if I do say so myself."

  "I have to ask," said Scott, sitting forward, "a girl like you, with such a solid recommendation and sense of…professionalism, you could have any number of executive assistant jobs in the city. How have you gone so long without employment?"

  "Um," it's kind of a long story, stammered Ashley.

  "You don't need to get into it," said Scott, jumping in. "As long as you weren’t embezzling money from the company till or, ah, doing meth in the bathroom, it's not a big deal."

  "Oh, oh, no," said Ashley, her anxiety interfering with her ability to detect humor. "Nothing like that. No stealing, no drugs."

  "It was a joke," said Scott, a smile pulling up the corner of one side of his mouth. "Besides, if you're anything like the girl I met years ago, the most mischief you'd ever get up to is staying up too late on a school night watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer."

  "Sorry," said Ashley, her face turning an even deeper red.

  "Don't worry about it," said Scott. "Well, I think I'd like to bring you along. Your resume's great, like I said, and you are a familiar face."

  Ashley's face brightened, the red replaced with a warm glow.

  "Oh, that's so great to hear," said Ashley. "I can start whenever you need me to."

  "One thing about that," said Scott. "As you've noticed, my job is my home. I do all my work here, and I'm always on the clock. I know you're a student, but I'd still need you available at odd hours. With that being said, this position would require you to move in here, temporarily, at least."

  Scott watched Ashley's eyes widen in surprise.

  "That shouldn't be a problem," said Ashley.

  She definitely wasn't expecting that, thought Scott.

  "Rent free, of course, which I'm sure works well for a student like you. You'd have your own bedroom, closet, bathroom- your own wing, more or less. It's just me and Olivia here, after all."

  "Olivia?" asked Ashley, Scott catching her gaze darting down to his ring finger, clearly wondering if Olivia was a wife.

  "My daughter; she's ten. I may need you to watch her from time to time. You'd be compensated for your time, of course."

  "That's fine with me."

  "Excellent," said Scott. "Then let's get started, shall we?"

  3

  Of course he recognizes me, thought Ashley, her hands clenched into tight fists as she sat on the living room couch. Of course.

  She was mortified as she thought about the girl she was back when she was friends with Regina, the girl she was when she met Scott. Gawky, self-conscious, easy swayed- a second-tier follower living in the shadow of Regina, a girl who, with her age and experience, seemed bigger than life. Ashley remembered how she felt when she met Scott, the charming, wealthy fiancé. She was envious at first, but soon accepted that girls like Regina and men like Scott just lived in a different world than her, that it actually made sense for people like them to get married, and the faster that Ashley realized this truth about how the world worked, the better off she'd be.

  And, of course, there was the matter of the end of that engagement.

  Forget about it for now, she thought. Just get through the interview. You can stress out about it later.

  "Well," said Scott, setting his laptop on the coffee table, "shall we take a tour of your new home?"

  New home, thought Ashley as her eyes scanned the enormous expanse of the living room, taking in the expensive art, the tasteful furniture, and the state-of-the-art electronics. Not to mention, the incredible view of the city through the floor-to-ceiling windows that composed the back walls.

  "Of course," said Ashley, maintaining her professional demeanor in spite of the swirl of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.

  Scott rose and spoke: "This is the living room, of course. Good a place to start the tour as any. Come this way."

  He walked to the back end of the room, closer to the magnificent view. Ashley let out a small gasp as she approached, her eyes on the span of the city, to the left, the shimmering waters of the bay to the right, and the Golden Gate Bridge that peeked out through the buildings straight ahead. The house was situated on a hill in the exclusive Russian Hill area, one of the wealthiest parts of the city. Ashley's head swam as she tried to figure out how much a home like this in a neighborhood like this with a view like this might cost.

  "Deck is out back," said Scott, gesturing to the sizable deck attached to the back of the house, a set of stairs leading down to the green expanse of the backyard. "We're up pretty high, so it's actually somewhat peaceful. I like to get most of my reading done out here."

  "Mhmm," said Ashley, her eyes still on the view.

  "Kitchen is this way," said Scott, stepping away from the back windows and heading down a curving hallway.

  Ashley followed, and soon they were in a sleek, modern kitchen of stainless-steel appliances and granite surfaces. A large island was in the middle, and copper cookware hung on the wall. A small nook with French windows was in one corner.

  "Help yourself to anything in here, and don't be shy about cooking. Maids come three times a week, so don't sweat about making a mess. Groceries are delivered every Monday, and if there's anything you want, just add it to the whiteboard on the fridge and I'll put it on the list."

  "Sure," said Ashley, her voice small.

  Scott led her back through the living room.

  "Upstairs is, well, upstairs," said Scott, gesturing to the angular staircase of light-colored wood and sturdy black handrails. "That's where Olivia's room is, my bedroo
m, as well as a few spare rooms that I haven't quite figured out what to do with."

  Spare rooms, thought Ashley. Quite a thing to have in one of the most expensive cities in the world.

  "You'll be down this hallway," said Scott, pointing down the long hall lined with doors on both sides.

  "More spare rooms," said Scott as they walked down the hall. "If you want to turn any of them into a study or anything like that, be my guest."

  "Lot of space," said Ashley.

  "Too much," said Scott, shaking his head. "I picked the place out with Regina back when we were still engaged. I was fine with the more…ah, modest choices we looked at, but she told me over and over, it's better to have extra space and not need it, than need it and not have it."

  Ashley chuckled, thinking about how like Regina that was; always practical and future-thinking when it wasn’t her money she was spending.

  "I've got a lot of work ahead of me, so I'll finish up this little tour with your bedroom."

  "Are you having me start today?" asked Ashley.

  "No, I figured you could have the day to ease in and get used to the place. Go ahead and relax, explore, and settle in. And don't forget to write me a list of the things you'd like to have brought over from your apartment. I'll be taking care of your old place’s rent while you're here, so feel free to have as much or little as you'd like brought over."

  Covering rent just like that, thought Ashley. How much money is Scott worth, exactly?

  "Anyway, here's your bedroom," said Scott, upon reaching a set of double doors at the end of the hallway.

  He grasped the black knobs of the doors and pulled them open, revealing a spacious, yet cozy bedroom. The four-post bed in the middle was neatly made with soft-looking white blankets and a mound of stacked pillows on the far end. The floor was covered in cream-colored carpet. Two sets of French windows looked out onto the bay. A small vase filled with an arrangement of fall flowers was set on the nightstand. It was a lovely, homey little room.

  "This work for you?" asked Scott.

  "It's perfect," said Ashley, looking around the space.

  "Great," said Scott. "Well, I'll leave you to it; I'm sure you've got classes today. My office is on the second floor, the first set of double doors on the right when you go up the stairs. I'm usually pretty deep into whatever I'm working on, so hit the buzzer rather than knock."

  He stepped out of the room, but turned back around just after crossing the threshold.

  "Oh, and welcome," he said, flashing a smile of flawless, white teeth, a pair of dimples forming on his slim checks.

  With that, Ashley was alone.

  Unemployed and on the verge of poverty to this, all over the span of a day, she thought, collapsing on the bed and sinking into the soft, plush sheets.

  Ashley allowed herself to relax for a moment, knowing that it was nearly time for her to leave for her classes. Checking the time on her phone, she realized that if she was going to be living in the city, she was going to need to factor in a little more time for her commute. But before she could consider the issue for too long, her phone lit up with a text. It was from Scott.

  Forgot to mention. I have a driver on call. I hardly use him, so feel free to have him drive you to and from campus. Also, keys to the house are by the front door.

  This was followed by the number.

  Driver on call? thought Ashley, relieved that she wasn't going to have to deal with the public transportation from the city to Berkley, I could get used to this.

  She dialed the number, called the driver, and within ten minutes another text displayed on her phone. It was the driver, letting her know he was out front. Ashley gathered her essentials and headed out the front door, where a silver, late-model Mercedes was parked, a trim, middle-aged man in a sharp black suit awaiting her.

  "Good morning," said the driver in a professional voice. "Where to?"

  Ashley smiled. I could definitely get used to this.

  Her classes that day seemed to drag; all she wanted to do was get back to the house, explore her new home, and get started on the job. But as she sat in her Western Civ II course, listening to the stout, elderly woman drone on about Tudor England, she found her thoughts drifting towards Scott.

  God, he's handsome, she thought, noticing that she was biting her lower lip as the image of his sculpted, gorgeous face appeared in her mind. But him and Regina…how that went down says a lot about what kind of guy he really is.

  She remembered with striking clarity how Regina handled the breakup- the girl was a mess. Going from engaged to the wealthy, handsome man of her dreams to single and alone with the snap of a finger, she handled the loss as though she'd just had a close relation tragically and suddenly taken from her.

  Asshole this, jerk that, Ashley thought, remembering the litany of curses that Regina spat out between wracking sobs, her mascara running down her high cheekbones, her red hair an unkempt mess. Ashley, as she thought a loyal friend should do, took Regina's side, believing every invective and accusation that came out of her mouth.

  But looking back, Ashley realized that she couldn't remember the exact transgression that Scott had committed, only that he was a rogue beyond redemption, guilty of the greatest crime that Regina could imagine: making her unhappy. Ashley remembered considering this at the time, but decided against it, thinking her inquiries might be mistaken as lack of support for her friend in need. And when the pictures of Scott, ever the sought-after bachelor, appeared on the usual tabloid sites, arm-in-arm with one starlet or model or another, the gavel was slammed down, the verdict declared: Scott, as far as Regina was concerned, was a non-person.

  On the way back, Ashley realized how little she knew about Regina and Scott. At the time, she was happy to simply take Regina's word on everything. But now that she was older and a little wiser, she'd learned that there were two sides to every story. What's more, Scott had been nothing but professional and accommodating. Could he really be the monster that Regina made him out to be?

  Ashley slid the key into the front door and stepped inside. She assumed that she would be alone, but as soon as she stepped in, a pair of eyes fell upon her. Sitting on the living room couch, in the exact place where Ashley had been sitting for her interview only a few hours before, was a pretty, pre-teen girl with straight, striking blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and fair, flawless skin that almost seemed to glow- they were features that Ashley recognized at once. This girl could only be Olivia, Scott's daughter.

  "Who are you?" the girl asked, placing the hardback book she was reading on the coffee table, her eyes locked onto Ashley.

  "Oh, hi!" said Ashley, affecting her voice with as much enthusiasm as possible. "I'm Ashley Wilson, your dad’s new assistant."

  Ashley strode over to the girl, her hand extended. But the girl didn't get up, and instead simply looked at Ashley's hand with an expression of mild confusion playing upon her charming features.

  "Hello," said Olivia, her tone flat.

  "It's…nice to meet you," said Ashley, now acutely aware of her hand hanging in the air, which she placed back at her side.

  "Likewise," said the girl, turning her eyes back to the book, clearly more interested in it than with Ashley.

  Ashley looked at the cover of the book, seeing that it was Frankenstein.

  "Oh, that's a scary book," said Ashley. "I read it once in high school."

  "Interesting," said Olivia, not interested at all.

  Ashley stood for a moment, not sure of what to do with herself.

  "Um, well, nice to meet you, like I said. If you want to talk or, um, play or anything, I'm in the room down the hall."

  "Play," said Olivia, the word almost disgusting on her lips. "I'm almost a teenager; we don't play."

  "Oh, OK!" said Ashley, her face turning bright red as she beelined out of the room.

  Play? she thought, chastising herself as she strode down the hallway, wishing she was better with children.

  Reaching the doors to her b
edroom, she opened them, ducked in, and shut them behind her.

  So much for a first impression, she thought, her eyes drifting to the bustling city through the bedroom windows.

  4

  Looks like I made the right call bringing this girl on, thought Scott as he looked over the latest documents he had assigned to Ashley. A week in and not a single error; this girl's got a knack for this sort of thing.

  Scrolling through the rest of the documents, Scott confirmed that the rest were in just as good of order as everything else that Ashley had turned in. Having brought her on with the initial intention of keeping his schedule straight, Ashley showed interest in the last few days in looking over his books. Eager for the extra help, Scott gave her access to his finances, and sure enough, within forty-eight hours, she'd streamlined information that was previously arranged in the haphazard manner that made perfect sense to him, but was all but nonsense to anyone else.

  Scott pushed himself away from his desk and made himself a fresh cup of French roast in the Keurig he kept in his office. As the machine whirred, pouring a steady drip of hot, coal-black brew into his cup, he leaned against his desk and looked out onto the waters of the bay, the shimmering waves calming and clearing his mind, as they often did.

  Still, the matter of her previous employer… he thought. Everything about her is on the level- great student, great employee; hell, she's even slowly getting Olivia to come out of her shell. What about her could possibly have resulted in terrible reference?

  But before he could consider the question further, a soft chime sounded through his office, the lights dimming for a brief moment- it was the "buzzer" for his office.

  "Come in!" he called out, taking the cup of coffee from the machine, the steam coiling around his face.

  The door opened, and Ashley stepped in. Scott took a moment to consider her outfit. She was dressed in a simple white blouse that formed a neat outline along her slim upper body, though a hint of a flesh-colored bra could be spotted beneath it. Her slacks were gray and trim, curving downward along the shape of her thighs. Her hair was done up in the usual simple bun that she tended to wear it in, a few stray hairs dangling over the flawless skin of her forehead.