This Billionaire's Wedding Date: This Billionaire, #22

By Rachel Foster

Brad is a successful billionaire who cares more about his nice things and money than he seems to care about his employees. Now his sister is getting married and he knows he can't go to the wedding looking like a single man. He ends up asking his beautiful assistant Blair to be his fake date. He agrees to pay her even for her time. Blair is Brad's assistant. She's beautiful and level-headed, but she didn't grow up with the same lifestyle that Brad has. She's never really gotten to know Brad on a personal level and now the wedding is a perfect time to do that. She starts falling head over heals for him though when she finds out the fun, outgoing Brad that she's never seen before. But is this truly a work obligation to him or is he falling for her too? 

• Language: English
• Publisher: 3rd Publishing
• Release date: Mar 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215360750

Book preview

This Billionaire's Wedding Date

Rachel Foster

Copyright © 2018 by Rachel Foster

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Epilogue

1

B

rad

I propped the window open and fanned myself with a folder, huffing with frustration at the Georgia heat. The breeze rolled in soaked with humidity, carrying with it the sounds of Atlanta traffic. Buildings rose over the horizon and sandwiched my investment company—Harrington Investment Partners—between a series of roads with the highway. It was the noisiest part of the city.

And a prime hot spot for business.

Sunlight reflected off the windows surrounding us, casting a glare on the window that nearly blinded me when I shifted in my office chair. The wheels slid over the vinyl floor and squeaked slightly, causing me to cringe. I gritted my teeth as I sifted through the bottom right drawer of my desk for a can of WD-40.

After spraying the wheels, I dropped the can back into the drawer, slammed it shut with my foot, and swiveled around to face my desk. Another hot breeze rolled over my shoulders. This one inspired me to loosen my tie and unbutton the first three buttons of my shirt. I shook my head as I leaned forward to observe the folders on my desk.

Investments never sleep, I thought with determination. Which means I never sleep.

I dove into my work, happily ticking through each investment folder on my desk. Each investment was different from the last, some involving property, and others involving mutual funds and trusts. The clock ticked away the hours until I heard a knock at the door, the irritating sound tugging me out of my workflow.

Yes? I barked impatiently. Yes, what? What do you want?

Mr. Harrington, you’re going to be late.

I sighed. For what?

Your tux fitting.

I lifted my gaze to the short woman standing in the doorway of my office. I knew her voice—it was Blair, my personal assistant—but that was pretty much all I knew about her. I studied her short hair, the curly brown locks tickling her jawline and bouncing slightly as she shifted from one foot to the other.

Though she was short, she stood tall whenever she spoke to me. I appreciated her confidence, though I was loathe to admit that I thought it useless coming from a personal assistant when it came to discussing things with me. Her hazel-green eyes studied me expectantly as I sat, still staring, like a complete idiot.

I cleared my throat. Tux fitting?

For your sister’s wedding.

I blinked.

Sir, don’t tell me you forgot.

Reschedule it.

I dropped my gaze back to my work, grabbing another folder from the diminishing pile to my right. I plopped it in front of me, whisked it open, and started slipping the pages apart to study them. I could hear Blair breathing. I could feel the way she stood in the doorway of my office, arms crossed and features stern.

What? Are you my mother?

She rolled her eyes. You’ve already rescheduled twice.

So? Do it a third time.

Mr. Harrington, the wedding is in a few weeks. It’s only going to take an hour to have you measured. It’ll provide your sister peace of mind. Don’t you think she deserves that?

I snorted. I see you’ve mistaken me for a man who cares.

Unfortunately.

I don’t think I like your tone.

She squinted. And I don’t appreciate you brushing off your responsibility when you committed to being part of the wedding.

She had a pointed—and I hated it.

But I was a man of my word. I didn’t need to tarnish my reputation with something as simple as a wedding. If word got out from Ashley that her own brother wouldn’t commit to a wedding, then potential clients would see me as someone to avoid in business.

I gave an exasperated sigh as I stood up, closed the folder, and set it aside. Fine. I’ll go to the tux fitting.

A smile lit up her features as she said, Great.

Can you drive me?

I’m your assistant, not your Uber. I don’t get paid to cart you around.

I let out another sigh as I grabbed my blazer and tugged it on. I grabbed my keys and swept past her without another word, marching my way to the elevator that would take me to the parking garage. I didn’t want to drive through traffic, not here in Atlanta. It was easier for someone else to do it. And finding a parking space at the bridal shop would be a nightmare.

I rolled my eyes as the elevator took me to the parking garage below. I sidled to my car, slipped into the driver’s seat, and huffed through the sticky humidity that had accumulated in the cab of my car since morning.

It was an awful sort of heat, a thick glaze that made it feel like I was attempting to breathe through cotton. I turned up the air conditioning and backed out of my parking space, hitting the gas as soon as I switched gears. I tore out of the parking garage and took a right, barreling through downtown to get to the bridal shop.

I made it in record time—not that I actually cared—and sat in the frigidly cold waiting area decorated with modern couches. I studied the bridal magazines sitting on the coffee table in front of me. None of them seemed interesting. Across the room sat an elegant cherry wood table with a coffee pot, cups, and plenty of sugar, cream, and other coffee items.

I stood up, made a cup of coffee with two sugars, and then returned to the couch, crossing one leg over the other as I scrolled through business emails. I had dozens of them in the ten minutes it took to find this place. And they were all urgent.

I don’t see how Blair doesn’t understand this is a total waste of my time, I thought as I swiped my thumb over the keyboard. It’s like she doesn’t care whether I’m successful. Business doesn’t stop just because my sister is getting married.

A woman cleared her throat near me. I looked up to find a tall woman wearing a Gucci pantsuit with gold chains decorating her wrist, her neck, and her ears. She smiled politely and nodded toward the other side of the store.

Mr. Harrington? I’m ready for you now.

I hummed and stood up, tucking my phone into my pocket as I crossed the room and stood up on a platform surrounded by wall-length mirrors. I smoothed my blond hair out of my face and tugged on my blazer, giving myself a handsome smirk.

I see we’re confident, she joked. That’ll do well for this fitting. Most men get self-conscious about being measured.

I have nothing to be self-conscious about, darling.

She chuckled and nodded, inviting me to extend my arms. I did as she instructed while my mind raced around the emails I desperately needed to handle.

Are you excited about the wedding? she asked as she measured my arms. It must be wonderful to see your sister getting married. I don’t have any siblings, but I’ve been to dozens of weddings in my lifetime.

That’s nice.

I’m sure you’re excited.

I hummed. Not really.

Oh, well, are you not a wedding person?

I hummed again. Are you done with my arms?

Yep, all done. Now we need to measure your torso.

Very well.

As she started measuring my chest and waist, I fished in my pocket for my phone. She eyed me carefully while stepping back.

I can’t measure you if you’re fidgeting, Mr. Harrington, she said. You’re worse than the toddlers that come in here.

Well, I’m not exactly thrilled about getting measured.

She nodded. Is there anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable?

Yeah, take me out of the wedding.

She gave me a confused expression before returning to my torso to measure the rest of me. She didn’t say much as she measured my legs. When she stood up, she walked to a nearby desk and wrote my measurements down.

Alright, would you like to try on the suit that she wants you to wear?

I’d rather not.

She looked at me, bewildered. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who was so opposed to a wedding. Is it the groom? Do you not approve?

I just don’t care.

You can’t be serious.

I shook my head. The divorce rate is at 50% now. It’s unlikely that they’re going to make it.

Her eyes went wide as she dropped her hands from her hips. She stared at me for a long time, her eyebrows twitching with disdain. After a beat, she turned away, lifted her clipboard, and walked behind the series of mirrors. I could hear her fidgeting with clothes.

I shook my head and stepped down from the platform, whipping my phone out for the first time in ten minutes. I started typing rapidly to respond to the emails I had missed while she was yapping. She had costed me business.

And I’m not even getting paid for this wedding. This is a waste of my time.

Is that all you need? I called over my shoulder. I have to get back to work.

That’s all, Mr. Harrington. Thank you for stopping by, she replied in a flat tone. Have fun at the wedding.

I snorted as I headed out the double doors. I was hooked to my phone the entire way to my car, nearly colliding with a cyclist who hadn’t rang his bell while riding up the sidewalk. I turned to shout, You’re supposed to be in the road, asshole!

The man shouted in response, but I didn’t mind it. I slid into my car, started the engine, and yanked the seat belt over my lap. I checked my watch.

"An hour of work is gone, I growled as I maneuvered my car through downtown traffic. Which means I have to stay an hour later. Great job, Blair. Thanks for your concern."

When I got back to my office, I threw myself even harder into my work. I finally got the wild amount of emails under control before the clock struck 4:00 PM. I sorted through the rest of the investment files and tucked them aside for later, leaving a yellow strip of tape on the ones I thought would bring profit to the company.

I finished everything in time to catch Blair on the way out. She was pumping her way to the elevator in a pair of red heels, her black pencil skirt hiking up slightly in the back. I studied her backside with an interest I had never felt before. She was wearing a purple blouse—a gorgeous lavender that appeared silky to the touch—and three silver bands clinked around her left wrist.

Hold the elevator, I said behind her.

She jumped before she could push the button. "God, you startled me."

Everyone calls me Brad.

She sighed heavily as she slapped the button for the parking garage. Very funny, sir.

You know, that fitting was a waste of time.

Tell someone who cares.

I stared at her as the elevator doors opened. She held her hand over one to keep them from closing, watching me watching her. She implored me with her eyes.

Well?

I shrugged and stepped on the elevator. We hadn’t been caught together in such a confined space too many times. She typically left after I had left, finishing up whatever tasks I had given her at the end of the day. But we had never left at the same time like this.

I sniffed the air curiously. Versace.

She arched her right brow at me. That’s right. How did you know?

I know my perfume.

Interesting.

I shrugged. It smells nice.

Thanks...I guess.

Sure.

Silence enveloped the elevator as it descended. When we reached the parking garage, I darted out first, my shoulder brushing hers and nearly knocking her aside. I hummed something like an apology before getting to my car, slipping inside, and driving off.

I had more work to catch up on when I got home, and I didn’t have time to waste.

2

B

lair

The phone had been ringing off the hook since I had arrived. I always came early to set up the coffee and bagels in the kitchenette, but I hadn’t had a chance to deliver the goodies with new clients calling to frantically check on their investments. After Mr. Harrington arrived, I transferred a call to his office and then resolutely stood to set up breakfast for everyone.

As soon as I was finished, I plucked an Everything Bagel and a cup of coffee from the bunch to take with me back to my desk. I took a bite and groaned when the phone rang again. I chewed my bite thoroughly, swallowed it, and then raised the handset to my ear.

"Good morning! Thank you for calling Harrington Investment Partners. This is Blair. How may I help you today?"

Oh, stiff delivery.

I snorted and rolled my eyes, lowering my voice as I said, Mandy, you’re not supposed to call during business hours.

But I’m bored down here.

Is being a secretary for the biggest investment company in the South really that boring?

She hummed curiously and then replied, Sometimes.

You’re silly. How’s it going down there?

It’s good. I just wanted to tell you there’s this very attractive man sitting out here waiting for an appointment. Maybe he’s the man of your dreams.

I sighed. If it’s my recent dreams, then he’d be a nightmare.

Aw, sweetie.

Sleep has been rough lately. I don’t think I need a new man to complicate that.

She huffed, filling the phone with static before adding, "It might improve your sleep to have a visitor every week to freshen up your sheets."

Stop trying to play matchmaker. I’m perfectly fine being single.

Oh, come on! You’re not as fun to be around since you’ve been moping about Dirk the Jerk breaking your heart.

I frowned. We promised each other we wouldn’t mention his name.

"Okay, The Jerk."

I laughed. That’s better.

So, how about it? I bet I could get his information. Oh, look at that! I’ve got his details right here in the calendar. He’s got a number.

I think I’m good for now.

She sighed. Blair, you need to get out of your shell at some point.

Well, I need to recover first. If I don’t heal my wounds, I’ll bleed on the next poor sap who decides to have a date with me.

I guess that’s fair. But you could always have a rebound.

I shrugged. That just sounds dishonest to me.

Not if you ask up front.

You know I’m not forward like that.

She giggled. Then, I can set you up with all the details laid out. What do you say?

I think I’m fine for now. Are you ready for the concert this weekend?

I’m totally ready for it! Eureka is going to be such a blast.

I bounced slightly in my seat, glancing around briefly to make sure no one was looking at me. "I know, right? I hope she plays Starry. I can only imagine how it sounds in person."

Right? God, I have my outfit picked out and everything. I got one for you, too.

I laughed. Matching outfits? Are we twelve?

Hey, we used to do it all the time. Why not now?

Maybe because we’re both full-grown adults.

She giggled. That doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun. And don’t forget, we’re leaving early today to catch our flight.

Yep, I’ve got everything set up to be done in time.

I’ll meet you in the lobby after work, okay?

I nodded. Yes, ma’am. The line beeped and I groaned, adding, I should go. Duty calls.

Same. Later!

I hung up the handset and sighed, organizing the calendar on my desk before reaching against for the handset. I answered several more calls that took up most of the morning. By the time I returned to my breakfast, the bagel was cold and my coffee was tepid at best. I sighed and consumed them anyway. I didn’t want to waste anything.

Mom always taught me not to waste food, I reflected as I ate my meal. Whenever Dad left, she had to scrape by just to feed me. She did everything she could for me and I’m grateful for that.

The bagel soured in my mouth at the thought of my mother. I struggled to swallow the last bite and reached for my cold coffee, taking a few gulps to get the caffeine running properly through my system. As soon as I was able to avoid a crying fit at work, I cracked my knuckles and dove into my emails, handling each one with the same care and concern I would with any client.

Despite how much I worked, I couldn’t shake the feeling of missing my mother. It persisted throughout the day, bleeding into the afternoon when I was finally able to wrap everything up by 3:00 PM. I stood up and started gathering my things, making sure I was logged out of my computer. While I shut down the computer, Mr. Harrington came out of his office.

Blair! he greeted cheerfully. I have a few things for you to—

He stared at my purse.

Are you going somewhere?

I nodded. I’m leaving early today.

Well, I have a few phone calls for you to make.

I can’t do that. It’s Friday and I’m leaving early.

He crossed his arms. But I need you to do these things before you leave.

Sorry, I asked to leave early, and HR approved it. If you’re upset about it, I suppose you’ll have to take it up with HR.

He sighed heavily. It’s fine. I’ll just call Mandy up here.

Actually, she’s leaving early, too. We’re going to a concert tomorrow.

If it’s tomorrow, then surely you can stay.

I shook my head. No, we have to catch our flight today and check into our hotel.

Where’s the concert?

It’s in DC.

He raised his eyebrows. So, I can put you on a red eye that will get you there in time.

And miss our hotel reservation?

This is really important, Blair.

I crossed my arms, reflecting his stance. "And this is really important. I asked well in advance for this time. I think I deserve it."

I can’t believe HR didn’t run this by me first.

They probably did, Mr. Harrington, but you were too absorbed by your work to notice.

He threw his arms up in the air and huffed with frustration. I guess I’ll go talk to them about it, then.

Okay, that sounds great.

You’ve really disappointed me, Blair.

I arched my right brow at him. I can say the same of you. I do just about everything you ask as your assistant. I need a break from you. This will be my first weekend where I won’t be running extra tasks for you.

I guess I need to hire a second assistant.

I guess you do.

He dropped his arms and shook his head. Whatever. I don’t have time for this. I actually care about this company.

Cool.

I snatched up the rest of my things and headed for the elevator, putting as much distance as possible between Mr. Tantrum and me.

What an egotistical prick, I thought while riding down to the lobby. He thinks everyone should bend to his will just because he’s a billionaire. I’d hate to be his family. Or worse, his girlfriend.

I couldn’t understand how anyone could be so selfish. If I was the owner of a company, I would want my employees to feel safe, secure, and comfortable working around me. Mr. Harrington did his best to do just the opposite. He was a workaholic and he was rude. Nobody liked being around him. I couldn’t imagine that his family liked being around him, either.

He’s lucky he even has family. It’s been years since I’ve had anyone remotely close to family in my life. Mandy is all the family I have. I deserve time with her.

I frowned at the elevator doors. The car creaked its way down, reminding me of all the horror movies I had seen where women got stuck in the elevator on a Friday when no one was at work.

I chuckled to myself, thinking, It’s early on a Friday. I think I’m safe from being caught in a horror movie.

The elevator dinged and released me into the lobby. Mandy tapped her heels against the tile floor while shrugging her shoulders excitedly. She opened her arms to me.

This will be our first vacation in ages, she told me as I hugged her. And we’re finally getting to see Eureka. I can’t believe she won’t tour through Georgia.

Me, too. But it’ll be fun to visit DC.

We can see the sights.

And get some yummy junk food.

She nodded and extended her elbow to me. Shall we?

Yes, ma’am!

We looped arms as we walked toward the parking garage, chatting the entire way to our cars. We went our separate ways so we could go home, change, and grab our bags. I waited on the curb in front of my apartment for her to pick me up. My phone buzzed incessantly in my purse the entire time. I did my best to ignore it.

Mr. Harrington is probably grasping at straws, I thought. He has probably tossed me every excuse in the book to get me to come back to work. But it won’t work. I won’t fall for it.

When Mandy arrived, I tossed my bag in the back of her car and hopped into the passenger seat.

DC, here we come!

She whooped as she peeled away from the curb, heading in the direction of the airport. By the time we had checked in, we were ready to board our flight. We took our seats in the middle of the plane where we did rock, paper, scissors to have the window seat. I giggled when I won the seat. I sat close to the glass and watched the world fall away beneath us when we took flight, smiling at all the wonderful memories I was about to make with my best friend.

Mandy is all the family I need, I considered. But it would be nice if I could have a man in my life who wasn’t a complete jerk...

3

B

rad

My fingers flew across the keyboard with lightning speed. Although it was Saturday, I had plenty on my plate to complete, especially since I had been snuffed by Blair the previous day.

HR never told me shit about her leaving early, I thought heatedly as I spruced up my progress report on a client’s investment in seafront property. And she never told me, either. It’s equally her responsibility as much as it is HR’s.

I shook my head as I saved the document. I swept through it twice more, being sure there weren’t any grammatical or spelling errors before moving on to the next task. I must have done the same thing about four times. When the grandfather clock in