“Hey, perjury is better than injury, which is actually what I’ll get if I go to prison. My asshole will never be the same, and I’m not willing to go through that, thank you very much.”
“Ugh, you’re too much.”
She shakes her head again and groans, finally relenting and giving in to my plans, and she leans forward with a defeated sigh.
“Fine,” she says firmly, brows raised as she leans in and whispers, “But we’re going to need to get me a ring to make this believable and you’re going to buy me a huge rock, and I’m going to keep it. Consider it extra payment for all the bullshit that you’re putting me through with this.”
I wasn’t expecting that and I laugh, nodding and looking back at her with a smile.
“The sass! I love it. Alright fine, we’ll get you a nice pretty diamond, deal?”
“Deal. I have to go. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Okay honey, see you later.”
She scoffs and I grin back as we go our separate ways, and I find myself anxious to see what life is like when you have a fiancé, even if it’s fake.
I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.
8 Jane
Getting up this morning and seeing that my name is plastered across social media and the news is not something that I’m accustomed to, and I’m not sure that there is any amount of coffee that is going to make it seem less foreign. The fact that not only is my name all over the news but that it’s also associated with Riker is a whole other level of crazy in my mind as well, and the entire situation is really throwing me off. I know that it’s a big deal that Riker is ‘off the market,’ but it doesn’t mean that I’m particularly thrilled about being involved with it.
Especially given the fact that it’s all a sham. I always assumed that when I got engaged it would be real and not a public ploy to save a wealthy client from his idiotic actions and keep him out of jail. How silly of me.
All I wanted was to win this case for my boss and keep my job, and I somehow ended up engaged to some macho billionaire playboy and committed perjury in the process, fantastic. I really hope that this isn’t the highlight of my career like Riker seems to think it is because if so, I’m definitely not going in the direction that I want to be.
I finish my coffee and shut off the TV in my hotel room, hoping that Nia hasn’t seen too much of it yet. I did speak with her last night and tell her that she might see my name in the news, but I told her not to pay attention to it and that we would talk about it later. That satisfied her for now, but I know that pretty soon she’s going to have some serious questions for me. I don’t blame her for being curious. Obviously, I’m more worried about the effect that this whole media storm is going to have on her, she’s just a child and I don’t want her caught up in all of this.
At this current moment though she’s safe, and I need to focus on the case and figuring out what our next move is. So I finished getting ready and head out the door to make my way over to the hotel that Riker is staying at, pulling my phone out as I leave to call Riker and let him know that I’m on my way over. Much to my annoyance he doesn’t pick up, but I’m not going to delay work just because he can’t be bothered to pick up his phone. I hail a cab and send him a text, hoping he sees it and makes sure that he’s ready.
We pull up to the hotel and I curse under my breath at what I see--a crowd of at least two dozen reporters and social media influencers all waiting outside with cameras. Clearly, they’re waiting for a glimpse of Riker and hoping that they can get a statement. I take a deep breath as I exit the cab, hoping to lay low. If I just casually walk up to the hotel they won’t notice me, right?
Wrong, I’m completely and utterly wrong about that.
The second I’m out of the cab they swarm me, pelting me with question after question while simultaneously snapping pictures and demanding a statement.
“Jane! Jane! Are you here to visit your fiancé? Any exciting breakfast plans?”
Of course I’m here to visit my ‘fiancé’ you dumb shit, why else would I be pulling up to his hotel?
I plaster my best ‘I’m happy’ smile on my face and open my mouth to respond, but I don’t’ get a chance. There are questions coming at me from all angles and before I can respond to one, there are three more.
“How did you two meet?”
“Are you one of his groupies that he decided that he wanted to keep around for good? How did you convince him to leave his lifestyle behind?”
“How did he convince you to stay after his behavior? Was there a gift exchange? Did he buy you an island? Rumor has it that he’s recently bought one, is that because you wanted it in return for his playboy-style weekend?”
Holy Hannah, these people are intense. All I’m trying to do is get inside, but the way is still blocked by the crowd of reporters, despite my efforts to get to the door.
“What advice do you have for other woman trying to land a billionaire husband. Are there any tricks of the trade?”
Tricks of the trade? What is she even talking about? And do women seriously make finding a billionaire husband one of their life goals? I can’t believe what I’m hearing and not only do I not want to deal with any of their bullshit questions,
