“You?” I shake my head and look over at Heather and back at the six-foot-something man standing in front of me. “No. No, my boss was an older guy, you’re-”

Cole nods slowly. “You must have met my Father. Tony Hoult. He was interviewing for me whilst I was out of town on business.”

I stare at Cole and curse the fate that keeps screwing with me. “So, you’re my boss?”

Cole nods and fiddles with his cufflinks, his brows fused tightly. “It sure looks that way.”

“You’ve already met each other-”

“Heather, leave us.” He commands, his eyes never leaving mine and Heather scampers out of the office leaving us alone.

“This is a joke, right? Because this can’t be happening,” I mutter, pacing back and forth. “It can’t be.”

Cole rubs the back of his neck, watching me pace frantically, mumbling incoherently to myself like a lunatic. “Shayla, why don’t we sit?” He offers, and I shake my head.

“No. I can’t sit.” I reply, brushing my fingers through my hair in frustration. “I feel as though I’m inside a nightmare I can’t seem to wake up from.” I stop pacing and look at him. “Are you like …stalking me?”

He laughs—and I don’t just mean a chuckle, I mean a full-on belly laugh. “Stalking you?” He says in between breaths as I stand there and watch him unimpressed. “I should be asking you that question, sweetheart. You’re the one that keeps showing up everywhere. It can’t be a coincidence.”

I scowl at him and slap the folder in my hand on his desk somewhat hard. “Excuse me? Are you insinuating that I’m some psychotic fan girl or something?” I ask, taking a step toward him and he watches me closely. “I think you will find that it was you who approached me at the club,” I say poking his chest, and he smirks and arches a brow. “And it was also your idea to leave the club together,” I add, poking him again and his smile grows into a grin. “It was also you that kissed me, so please explain how I come off as the stalker here?” I finish, placing my hands at my hips and stare up at him expectantly.

Cole licks his lips and shrugs, “I was just kidding, but it’s nice to see you have a feisty side, sweetheart. I adore that in a wife.” I sigh and roll my eyes. I’m going to kill this boy.

“I’m not your wife.” I grouse heatedly. “Come to think of it; I’m not your assistant either. I quit.” I tell him and turn to leave, but Cole grabs my arm and stops me.

“Shayla, come on. I’m only teasing you. We can work this out, come and sit for a minute, will you, please?” I tug my arm out of his hold, walk over to his desk, and sit on one of the cream chairs opposite. Cole comes and stands in front of me, leaning on his desk, he crosses his arms over his chest and regards me seriously. “You don’t have to quit. We’re both adults. We can still work together.”

“How? How can we possibly work together after everything that has happened? We’re married, remember?” Cole shrugs.

“Yeah, so? Who here knows we’re married beside us? You’re overreacting. Besides, my father hired you for a reason, so you must be good at what you do.” I sigh heavily and shake my head.

“Overreacting? I married my damn boss. I went from being an assistant to the office slut who has slept with the CEO.” Cole straightens from his leaning position and runs his fingers through his hair.

“Shayla, you’re overthinking it. No one will find out what happened between us, I promise you.” He assures me, he seems genuine, but the nagging feeling I have at the pit of my stomach is making me feel uneasy.

“Fine,” I relented with a sigh. I narrow my eyes. “You must have thought I was a right dimwit for not knowing who you were. Why didn’t you say something?”

“I thought no such thing,” He smiles warmly. “If anything, it felt good to be treated like a normal human being rather than a--”

“Notorious playboy billionaire?” I finish, and he chuckles a little lowering his gaze to the black Louboutin leather shoes on his feet. “I go just a touch deeper than that, but yes. I may have liked that you didn’t seem fazed by the fact that I had money.”

“Why would I be? Just because you have money doesn’t make you better than anyone else. When cut, you still bleed red like the rest of us mere mortals.”

Our eyes meet; we stare at one another for a long moment. Cole smiles and shakes his head, seemingly pleased by my response. He walks around his desk and sits in his chair. “It’s almost lunchtime. Would you like to go out for lunch?”

“Lunch?” I intone, and he nods leaning back in his chair.

“Yeah, we can go to the breakfast bar.” I groan and stand up. “We can share some pancakes.”

“I hate you,” I utter and turn to walk to the door. I hear Cole laugh behind me.

“Hey, what happens in Vegas...”

“Shut up.” I walk out of his office and look back to see him watching me with a grin on his face while shaking his head. The girls are going to have a fit when they hear about this.

I walk to the bathroom and dial Aimee’s number. She answers after two rings. “Yo ho, what’s up?”

“What’s up? Let me tell you what’s up. Remember that billionaire I accidentally married?”

“The hot billionaire, yes.”

“Well, that ‘hot billionaire’ is not only my dear husband…he’s also my new boss,” I tell her and hear her coughing and sputtering on the other end, clearly choking on something. “You dead?”

“I’m good. I’m okay. What do you mean he’s your boss?” She questions, clearing her throat.

“He’s my boss. The man that interviewed me was his Dad--Tony Hoult. How did I not connect the dots here Aimes? For fucksake. I’m a smart girl--at least I thought I was. I held his card in my hand, and it didn’t click. He probably thinks I’m a fucking idiot. Jesus, I’m mortified.” I mumble, closing the lid of the toilet and sitting on it.

“A lot has happened in the space of four days. My mind can’t cope with all this; I don’t know how you’re dealing with everything so calmly.” She says in an attempt to make me feel better.

“Calmly? I’m freaking out Aimee. I can’t work here. It’s too awkward working with him side by side day in, day out. I can’t do it. I’m going to quit.”

“Shayla, no. Don’t forget; you need this job. Remember how excited you were to finally be in a job that is in a field you’re interested in. This job will open all sorts of doors for you in the future. Just focus on your work, and I promise you in the end when you’re a kick-arse architect, it will all be worth it.” I nod and sigh. She was right. As much as the situation sucks, I need to stick it out as long as possible. “So what if you slept with him, he’s slept with dozens of girls. He clearly doesn’t care, why should you?”

“Yeah, you’re right. I mean, he did promise what happened will stay between us.” I tell her.

“There you go. Just chill and enjoy your first day, it’s all going to be okay.” I sure hope she was right because I honestly can’t take much more. Knowing my luck, he’ll end up being my long-lost brother or something, on top of everything else. I shudder at the mere thought of it.

Heaven forbid.

Cole

“Tristan, we’ve had this conversation before. I’ve had it with your philandering ways. If you want me and your grandfather to take you seriously and pass on our shares to you, you need to prove you’re responsible enough to run a multi-million corporation. You’ll be thirty soon, the time for you to settle down has come. I let you have your fun and sow your wild oats so that you’ll get it out of your system before you settle down.” My father scolds me whilst cutting into his fillet mignon steak. “Hollie comes from a respectable family who has been our dearest friends for generations. She’s a beautiful young lady, and she shares the same passion for architecture as you do. What more could you ask for in a life partner?” He adds, lifting his green eyes to look at me.

I clench and unclench my fist under the table. I feel my annoyance grow more by the minute. “Well, I would like to be attracted to my future wife for starters. I also want to marry someone I love, Dad. I have zero interest in Hollie. She’s not my type, and we have absolutely nothing in common other than our careers. Why would you want me to marry someone I don’t even love?” I ask, and he sets his fork down and wipes his mouth before speaking.

“Son, love doesn’t just happen overnight. You need to work at it, and it grows as you get to know the other person. You loved Sophie and look how that turned out? She left you devastated. You’ve not been the same since she broke your heart.” I feel my insides recoil at the mention of my ex. “I don’t want to see you hurt like that again. Do you think your mother and I were in love when we married? No, we weren’t, but we grew to love each other, and now I couldn’t imagine my life with anyone else.” He explains, looking at my mother, who smiles at him lovingly and takes his hand when he holds it out for her.

“Dad, I’ve known Hollie since we were kids and I don’t see myself loving her…ever,” I tell him earnestly, but he shakes his head and holds his hands up.

“Enough Tristan. I’ve said my piece. If you want our shares, you’ll marry Hollie as planned, and that’s final. The arrangements are in place.” He says and goes back to eating his food. I look over at my mother who shrugs and smiles apologetically at me. This is ridiculous. This marriage fiasco started when Grandpop was diagnosed with motor neuron disease and was given less than a year to live. Guess what his dying wish was? To see his first-born, favourite grandson married before he dies. His shares will not transfer over to me until I am married, and if I don’t, it goes to my idiot cousin Harry who will run the company I have spent years building up into the ground quicker than I can blink. It’s times like these that I wish I had a sibling. My Dad wants to retire early but won’t give me full control of Cult Designs until I’m married.

“Excuse me,” I mutter, dropping my napkin on the table and stand up.

“Honey, you’ve not touched your food.” My mother says, looking up at me. I shake my head and rub the back of my neck tiredly.

“I’m not hungry,” I tell her. “I’m going to take off; I have a ton of work to do for the presentation tomorrow.”

“Hollie and her parents are coming over the day after tomorrow for dinner. I expect you to be here. We’ll discuss the details of your engagement.” My father states as I walk off out of the dining room. I wave them off without so much as a glance and leave the house.

I feel like I’m suffocating. I jump in my Audi R8 and speed out of the gates. They’ve got me corned with this marriage bullshit, and I can’t seem to find a way out of it. I’ve been fighting them for weeks. I don’t want to be stuck marrying a girl I don’t love or even find the least bit interesting. She’s a beautiful girl, yes. She’s smart and accomplished. Any other guy would give their right leg to marry a girl like that, but not me. She’s not for me. If I get forced into marrying her, I know I’ll struggle to stay loyal, and I am not the kind of guy that cheats.

After an hour of driving around mindlessly, I find myself at my best friend Josh’s house. I’m currently sprawled out on his sofa sipping on my fifth bottle of beer staring up at his plain white ceiling.

“How the fuck am I going to get out of this?”

Josh sighs and leans back on the sofa and sips his beer. “Well, you’re not. You’ll have to marry Hollie, my brother. We both know how stubborn your Dad is. He’s not letting this go.”

I close my eyes and nod. Josh was right; my Dad will not let this go. Especially if it means losing the company, he has worked so hard to build to his brother-in-law's son. “Damn it. Please, tell me there’s a better solution, anything but this.” I frown when I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pull it out and see a text from Shayla.

I open the message and read it.

Shayla:

‘I’m going to be late for the meeting tomorrow morning. Some idiot stole all four of the tires off my car.’

I sit up and frown, and despite my bad mood, I laugh. This girl has the worst luck in the world. I type a message back to her.

Me:

‘Ouch. I’m sorry to hear that. I can have someone over within the hour to replace the tires for you.’

I send the text, and a reply comes right away. I open the message.

Shayla:

No. That’s okay. I’ll sort it. I can find somebody to fit new one's tomorrow. Just tell your lawyer I’ll be a little late.’

I smile and shake my head. She’s so stubborn it's infuriating.

Me:

‘I’ll pick you up on my way. We can go to the office together after.”

I set my phone down and look at Josh, who was watching me with a smile on his face. “What?” I ask cagily, sipping my beer.

“Your mood just drastically changed. Who are you texting?” He asks and swipes my phone off the table when it vibrates. “Shayla?” I reach over and try to take my phone, but he moves it out of reach. “Hang on is that the hottie from the club you disappeared with.” I nod and grab my phone from him.

“Yes, that’s her,” I say and read her text. Of course, she’s saying no. I text her back quickly telling her I will pick her up at nine and that I wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Why are you going to the lawyers with her?” Josh questions raising a curious brow at me. I was too distracted arguing with Shayla over text.

“Uh, to sign some papers for a divorce,” I answer distractedly with a shrug and he kicks my knee. I scowl at him.

“Divorce?” He sits upright and stares at me in bewilderment, and I realize I just let our secret slip out. “When did you fucking marry her to get a divorce?!”

“When we flew to Vegas…” I trail off, and his eyes widen as he waits for me to continue explaining. I sigh, “This is all your fault. You forced me to go out and got me stinking drunk. After we left the club, we kept drinking and ended up on my private jet flying to Vegas to get married.”

“Holy— you got married? Like legally married?” Josh questions getting to his feet, he throws his head back and laughs when I nod.

“Yes, Josh. I’m legally married. And like that was bad enough she shows up at my office as my new executive assistant. My Dad hired her while I was in Paris. What are the fucking odds of that, tell me, please?” Josh covers his mouth with his hand and shakes his head.

“Odds? Bro, this girl is either one psychotic stalker and planned this or fate’s just dropped a motherload of an opportunity in your lap.” I watch Josh as he moves around the room.

“Josh, she didn’t even know who I was. And she tried to quit the moment she saw I was her boss. She’s not a stalker, and she certainly didn’t plan any of this.” I explain, running my fingers through my hair.

“Cole, are you an idiot bro?” I scowl at him hard. “Do you not realize all your prayers have been answered. This whole Hollie debacle is solved.” I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees and watch him closely.

“How so?”

“You’re married, you idiot!” He shouts, throwing his hands up in the air. “You can’t marry Hollie if you’re already married. Take Shayla to your grandfather, introduce her as your wife, problem solved.”

Oh. Why didn’t I think of this? I am married.

I frown. “You mean, we stay married?” Josh nods, widening his blue eyes. “She wouldn’t agree, why would she want to stay married?”

Josh throws a cushion at me. “Because you’re Tristan Cole Hoult, that’s why. You’re the most sought-after bachelor in the country—after me, of course.” He says in jest, and I throw the cushion back at him.

I roll my eyes exasperated. “Fuck you, arsehole.” Josh catches the cushion and rests his elbow on it, grinning. “She doesn’t care about any of that. She’s nothing like the rest; my fame and money didn’t deter her one bit.”

“Sound chick. Just tell her the truth, maybe you’ll appeal to her good nature, and she’ll pity you and agree to help. If that fails, offer her a pay-out, a couple of mill, like a bearding service.”

I rub my hands over my face with a heavy sigh. “That sounds rather crude.”

“Would you rather marry Hollie?” I shake my head and fall back against the sofa.

“Fuck no.” I curse looking at the beer bottle in my had. “Least Shayla’s fun to be around, I'd much rather be stuck married to her.”

“Just ask her.” He states taking a swig of his beer. “Worse case she’ll say no.”

“Oh, she will absolutely say no. She’s feisty and stubborn as hell.” I mutter tapping the neck of the bottle thoughtfully. Can’t hurt to ask. Like Josh said, maybe she will feel sorry for me and help me. Perhaps I could give her a raise? And I’d prefer to be married to Shayla than Hollie, at least she’s amusing to be around. She cracks me up throughout the day.

“Feisty, huh?” Josh intones, raising his brows with intrigue. “Good in the sack?”

I bite my bottom lip recalling our passionate night together. “Oh, definitely,” I murmur.

I sigh, feeling relieved. I hadn’t realized how much this marriage arrangement was weighing me down.

I leave Josh’s place and head home. I had a big day ahead of me the following day, and I needed to get my shit together before the presentation.

The next morning, I sat waiting for Shayla outside her apartment building. I’d been waiting fifteen minutes, and she’s yet to come down. Women. I will never understand why they take a year to get ready for everything. I honk my horn impatiently, just as she pushes the door open and walks toward the car. I let my eyes wander over as she approaches me. That tight, black, pencil skirt and red satin blouse she’s wearing are hugging her in all the right places. Her dark tresses cascading down her back in beach waves, just like the night we met.

“Jesus, keep your hair on. You’ll wake the neighbours.” She grumbles as she gets into the car. I’m not proud of this, but my eyes instantly drift to her skirt which rides up to her mid-thigh when she sits, and I find myself checking out her shapely legs. I have a sudden flashback of our night together in Vegas, those legs wrapped around me as she drew me into her deeper.

“Cole.”

I blink snapping out of my thoughts and look at her through my shades. “Hm?”

She looks at me with a frown, “Are we going or are we just going to sit here? You were just rushing me a moment ago?”

“Yes, we’re going,” I say, pulling away into traffic. “How are you? Did you manage to sort out tires?”

Shayla glances at me and shrugs, “Yes. Someone will be coming to fit new ones later this evening.” She explains, and I nod. “Thank you for offering to help. I was in a sour mood. I hope I didn’t come off rude.” She looks over at me, and I shake my head.

“Not at all,” I wave off her apology. “Honestly it would have been pissed me off too if someone stole all the tires off my car. Did you report it?” Shayla shakes her head, and I frown, “Why not?”

She sighs, looking out the window, “What’s the point? It’s hardly the crime of the year, is it? It’s inconvenient sure, but I think the police have much bigger cases that require their attention than my stolen tires.” I smile, shaking my head.

“That’s one way to look at it.”

Shayla sighs brushing her hair away from her pretty face, “Nothing seems to be going right for me at the moment, it truly is bizarre.”

I smile and glance at her before I look at the road again. “Oh, I’ve been there. But you should always try and stay positive because you never know when your luck might change.” Shayla looks at me briefly and nods. “Might be sooner than you think.”

“I doubt that.” She utters, her voice an octave over a whisper. The rest of the twenty-five-minute journey to the lawyer’s office, we spent reviewing my work schedule.

“Your two-thirty meeting got pushed back by fifteen minutes. Mr Cohen’s flight got delayed from Belgium; his driver dropped me an email earlier.” I nod as we walk into the office and Franc— our lawyer greets us.

“Morning, Mr Hoult, Mrs Hoult,” I observe Shayla’s reaction when Franc called her by her married name. She smiles tightly and takes his offered hand and sits at the table. “Okay, Mr Hoult I have drawn up the papers for the divorce. All I need are your signatures, and I can get it processed.” Shayla nods and picks up her pen and signs the papers. She holds the pen out to me, and I take it and stare at the paperwork in front of me.

“Cole?” I lift my gaze and look at Shayla. “Sign the papers.”

“Franc, will you leave us a moment, please?” Shayla watches as he stands up and leaves the room before she looks at me again.

“What’s wrong?” She questions eyeing me warily.

“Shayla. I have a proposition for you.”

Her frown deepens, “A proposition?”

I nod slowly and hold her gaze, “Yes, a proposition.”

“Okay…”

“What if we don’t get a divorce?” I suggest, and she stares at me blankly and then laughs suddenly.

“Hilarious, Cole. Stop screwing around and sign the papers so we can get out of here.” When I make no move to sign the papers, her smile fades slowly. “You’re not—wait, are you serious?!”

“Very.”

“Very? Very what, Cole? We agreed to get a divorce. What are you talking about?” She exclaims, rising from her seat.

I sigh and put the pen down and watch her as she glares daggers at me. “I’m only suggesting we stay married for a little while longer.”

Shayla stops pacing and looks down at me angrily, “And I’m suggesting we get a divorce—right now.”

“Shayla, just listen to me for a second. I’m stuck in an impossible situation, and I need your help.” I explain, and her gaze softens a little. “My Dad, he’s forcing me to marry someone I don’t love in exchange for his and my grandfather’s shares to the company.” I sigh and stand up. “My grandfather has a terminal illness and doesn’t have long to live. His dying wish is to see his firstborn grandchild married before he dies. If I don’t, he will give his shares to my cousin Harry who is an absolute goon and will fuck up everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve at the company.”

Shayla shakes her head. “Cole, have you lost your mind? You’re talking about lying to your family. To a dying man. Absolutely not.”

“I can’t marry Hollie. She’s just not the type of girl I see myself settling down with. She’s not for me.” I explain, and she shrugs indifferently.

“How is that any different to what we did? We don’t exactly get along either. Just marry her, get your shares then divorce her.” I sigh and shake my head, frustrated.

“Shayla, you don’t get it. This girl has been obsessed with me since we were ten years old, do you think she’s going to divorce me after waiting years to tie me down. No fucking chance,”

“Cole, listen to what you’re asking of me? You’re asking me to stay married to you, to lie and scheme. I don’t even know you.” She declares pacing again. I grab hold of her arm and draw her toward me.

“I’ll pay you.” I blurt out.

Shayla’s green eyes grow wide, and if looks could kill, I’d be buried six feet under right about now. “You’ll what?” She grits annoyance evident in her tone. “If you think just because I slept with you, I now owe you something; you’re sorely mistaken. Screw you and your job, you arrogant pig.” She hisses vehemently and rips her arm from my hold.

“No! Christ, Shayla, it's not like that. Think of it as a business arrangement. Name your price; money is no object.” Shayla steps back with an appalled look on her face. A glimpse of hurt flickers in her eyes before its replaced with anger again.

“Who the hell do you think you are?! I’m sorry to disappoint you, Mr Hoult, but I am not for sale! Your money can get you a lot of things but not me.” She tries to sidestep me, but I block her path. “Get out of my way.” She spits furiously.

“Jesus, Shayla, please just to listen to me. I’m not trying to buy you, and the last thing I’d ever want to do is insult you.” I explain and sigh dejectedly. “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate. You’re my only hope out of this arranged marriage.” I say pleadingly, and she licks her lips and brushes her fingers through her hair, still fuming. “I know you need the money. You’ve got outstanding debts on your student loans.” She spins and glares at me. “It came up in your background check. You can pay those off and finish your degree. Let me help you.”

“I don’t want your help! There are a million girls out there who would marry you without a second thought, go pick one of them.” She says snatching up her blazer and purse.

“I don’t want them.” Shayla rolls her eyes and tries to push past me to leave, but I stop her. “I want you.” She lifts her gaze slowly, and our eyes meet.

“Tristan?” We both jump apart when I hear my name. I turn and see my Dad standing there. Fuck.

“Dad?”

“What is going on here?” He asks looking between Shayla and me sceptically. “What's with the shouting?” Shayla looks at me and straightens her skirt. “What are you both doing here?” I look over at Shayla, and I’m not sure what came over me, but I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her up against me.

“Dad, I’d like you to officially meet my wife…Shayla.”