Imperfect Match (Elixir Bachelor Billionaires #1)

“Oh, Daze. To earn that title, you have to do much more than say you love Charles Hawthorne the most.” Willow grins, looping her arm through mine.

How does one gentle touch from my friends seem to calm down my anxiety?

“If you want to be alone, then we’ll leave. You lock up after us.” Elodie tips her head toward the door.

“But you can call us anytime if you want to talk,” Vi swiftly adds.

“Thanks.” I give her a tiny smile before grabbing her hand. “I’m sorry for being cranky.”

“You have all the right to be cranky, but I still believe the ritual worked and landed you a prince. You’re just scared to see it right now, Daze.”

After my friends leave, I slip into bed. My thoughts drift to all the events of today: Dad’s incident, Charles’ interview, his outrageous proposition, and finally, Jax appearing on TV.

How freaking long was this day anyway?

It’s like my wish for a day longer than twenty-four hours was finally granted, and in the process, reminded me that wanting more always has consequences.

My hands clench the pillow lightly, and without any warning, my mind goes to the texture of Charles’ soft suit as he pulled me against his hard chest. Once that floodgate opens, I can’t stop the torrent of thoughts about my boss and the side of his personality he kept hidden until today. It defies my every preconceived notion about Charles. He isn’t as ice cold as I thought, because right now just the mere thought of him makes me burn and sweat.

The next morning, I wake up with a fresh feeling of dread, my hands shaking as I go for my phone on the table. I swipe the screen to read the latest text.

Violet: It’s all gone, Daze. Jax’s interview, the media report about you…nothing is online anymore.

What?

I quickly type Jax Mendes into the search engine, and there’s only one listing—his social media profile.

I go for Daisy Price and Pretty Woman, but get nothing.

Holy crap! Did I just dream the entire thing, including standing before Charles in my underwear?

My gaze slants to the date on top of my phone screen. No, I am definitely not reliving the same day. Once that’s confirmed, with quivering fingers, I type out Charles Hawthorne and the mystery woman before pressing enter.

There it is—the video clip of me and Charles leaving town hall.

I peek through the curtains to see if anything is out of the ordinary, like a press reporter lurking outside my apartment, but I’ve a bigger surprise, and thankfully, one not as nerve-racking. One of Charles’ cars is parked right across the street, and Steve leans against the door, dressed in his usual black suit and sunglasses, looking the street up and down.

What is he doing here so early? Is there a new crisis that I’m unaware of?

I put on my boho poncho and slippers and rush down the stairs.

“Steve? Is everything alright?”

“Morning, Daisy. Yes, of course. I’m here as your chauffeur and will drive you to work.” The big man smiles casually. As always, he’s showing me a much more casual side of his personality in the absence of Charles.

“Um, but I usually leave at eight.” I look at my watch, and it’s only six fifteen. “Is Charles going in early?” I struggle to piece everything together.

Surprise flashes in his wide eyes for a fleeting second. “Mr. Hawthorne asked me to stand guard here last night. I thought you knew.”

I shake my head slowly, unable to find words for several beats. “When did you get here?”

“Ten thirty.”

Right after the video of Jax went out.

Everything inside me stills as I finally try to process all that’s happening. Charles sent him for me, even after I turned down his insane marriage proposal.

“Thank you so much, Steve,” I say, almost in a daze, and upon returning to my apartment, I send a group text to my friends.