Imperfect Match (Elixir Bachelor Billionaires #1)

“They aren’t that expensive, especially if we’re talking about everything I’ve done for you.” She grins wide.

Guilt slithers like a serpent inside me, realizing how much I’ll be asking of her if we go ahead with the plan slowly forming in my head.

“But since you asked so politely, I’ll accept it graciously.” She pinches the corners of her skirt and curtsies. As she bends forward, her sky-blue rhinestone hair clip catches my eye.

“How many of those do you have?”

“You noticed my clips?” Her hand moves to her hair.

“They’re hard to miss,” I admit, fighting the urge to shift on my feet, feeling like a young boy caught with a hand in the cookie jar.

“These were my mom’s. She loved hair jewelry, and my dad gifted her a new piece every year on their anniversary and her birthday. She had one in every color imaginable.” Daisy’s face flushes with warmth, a mix of awe and longing shadowing her expression.

I know she lost her mom a few years ago. Before I can offer my apologies or sympathy, she changes the discussion.

“Did Jimmy call you? I thought I heard him.” Her downturned lips lift slightly, though sadness lingers in her eyes, and for a moment I feel a pang in my chest as if I feel her pain.

“Did you see the news?” I ask instead, ignoring the strange emotion. Why else would she not be freaking out?

“Um, no.” Her head turns toward the black TV screen, and slowly her eyes widen. “They are already showing your interview. Wasn’t it scheduled for the nightly news?”

As she reaches for the remote, I lunge forward, placing my hand over it.

Daisy arches an eyebrow. “Um, what are you doing?”

“Has anyone called you?”

“Um, no. My phone battery just died. I’ve plugged it in to charge. What’s going on, Charles? You’re seriously weirding me out right now.”

“Can you do me a favor?” I ask, and before she can say anything, quickly add, “And I really want you to do it.” I’m not above begging at this point.

She nods, her eyes still wide.

“Don’t turn on your computer, TV, or phone. Basically, don’t go online.”

“What? How will I work?”

“Do anything that doesn’t involve going online.”

“But—”

“Don’t argue, Daisy. Just do it,” I insist, but she doesn’t budge and keeps staring at me, questioning my sanity. “I’ll explain everything in an hour. I promise.”

“Fine,” she finally huffs, squinting at me. “You’ve got an hour. But I better hear the full story after that.”

9

I DON’T HAVE COOTIES

CHARLES

Daisy leaves my office and I immediately loosen the tie squeezing my windpipe. Collapsing onto the leather couch, I scroll through the messages from the stakeholders. Every fucking one of them has replied about how they’re eagerly looking forward to the next Hawthorne wedding and hinted how they support me taking over as the CEO of Hawthorne Holdings.

Is it really that simple?

A fabricated media story about me and a mystery woman, and suddenly everything I’ve strived for in the past four years falls into place.

This doesn’t even make any sense.