My Last Love Affair: A Fake Fiancee Secret Baby Romance Page 3

  Jack was definitely my biggest competition. The only way to edge him out of the running was to find a woman and fast. I had no idea what Jack’s love life was like at the moment, but he had never struggled in the ladies department. None of us had. We had been born to very fortunate circumstances, inheriting our parents’ good looks, money, and my father’s charm. It had made it easy to find willing women. Maybe a little too easy. I smirked thinking about the reputation of the Bancroft boys in our social circles.

  Oh, to be young and carefree again. Unfortunately, those days were gone, and it was time to secure the company and move it into the next generation, bigger and stronger than ever.

  Chapter 4

  Hannah

  I had dressed to kill today. I was meeting with the man who was interested in buying my company. Grayson Bancroft. I had done my due diligence and researched his company. They bought struggling companies like mine and either sold them off bit by bit or helped them flourish. I had no idea what his plans were for mine. I was ready to fight for my baby and to do that, I needed to look good, to feel good.

  I put on my designer suit, opting for a skirt, even though I knew that could make me look too feminine. If I was too feminine, he might see me as an easy target. The black blazer and white silk shirt gave me an all-business look. I had put my hair up and then down, trying to decide the best look. I went with up, in a high, but slightly loose ponytail. I put on my killer Louboutins and then headed out the door, having the car take me to the building with my flagship store on the bottom floor. I wanted Mr. Bancroft to see my vision.

  Amber was already at the store, reviewing displays and making sure everything looked as good as possible. I walked around, checking out the displays, adjusting a few jars before staring at the mission statement for the company, which hung on the wall behind the checkout counter. I was very proud of it and had made sure it was highlighted for my customers to see.

  “Is the conference room ready?” I asked Amber.

  She nodded. “Yes, I had Susie put together some information about the company and a brief recap of our quarterly statements. I wanted to make sure a prospective buyer sees the potential for growth.”

  “Thank you. I don’t know what I would do without you,” I told her.

  She smiled. “I’m here for you. This is going to go great. I did my own research on this place and I think this is the answer to our prayers.”

  “What if he decides to chop it up and sell it bit by bit?” I asked anxiously.

  “I don’t know that he would. I mean, the numbers are good. The product is fantastic. He could make more money by holding onto the company and giving it a little boost. If he’s as smart as the bio I read makes him out to be, he’ll keep things as they are—for the most part,” she assured me.

  “I hope so,” I whispered, taking one last look around the store I had spent hours and hours designing. It had an upscale-boutique look, but I had also softened it by adding lots of green plants and really driving home that natural selling point.

  A man in a dark-gray designer suit came through the door. I recognized him immediately. I was a little taken aback by how attractive he was in person. The man commanded a room just by being in it. I stepped forward, keeping my thoughts about how much I loved the black hair and hazel eye combo he had going on. It gave him a very stern appearance—very alpha.

  “Mr. Bancroft, I’m Hannah Adams,” I said, extending my hand.

  “Good morning,” he replied with no smile.

  I inwardly groaned, already dreading the next hour or so. I hated arrogant men. I had a feeling this was one of those guys who would feel the need to do a lot of mansplaining to me. I silently reminded myself I had to be nice. He was the one hope I had to hold onto my company.

  “Would you like to look around?” I asked in a friendly tone.

  He shrugged a shoulder, his eyes moving around the open, airy space. “Sure.”

  I stepped toward a display of lipsticks, talking about the natural, safe ingredients used and why our lipstick was superior to the others on the market. It was a little strange talking to a guy’s guy about lipstick, but he seemed to actually be listening.

  “Why haven’t you highlighted your ingredient list? You say all natural, but what does that mean to a consumer?” he asked pointedly.

  I opened my mouth, and then snapped it shut. “Our consumers are looking for products that don’t contain cancer-causing agents or other chemicals that can cause horrible reactions. When we say natural, they understand that.”

  “Do they?” he asked, one bushy black brow raised.

  I took a deep breath and walked to the display of foundation along with the charts to help a person choose the right color. Once again, he asked critical questions. He was right. I knew he was right, and I hated it.

  “If you’ve seen enough, we can go on up to the third floor where our headquarters is located. We can talk in detail in the conference room,” I said, hoping he would take my lead.

  I suddenly felt like he was invading my domain, criticizing my work. I didn’t like it. I wanted to kick him out of the store, but managed to refrain, knowing my future depended on him listening to what I had to say.

  “Sure,” he said in an almost friendly tone that took me by surprise.

  I led him to the elevator, mustered through an incredibly tense thirty-second ride before bursting out of the metal box and striding down the hall toward the conference room with him right behind me. I caught the stares as we passed by offices. My staff was mostly women. They were all ogling the man that would very likely become their boss if I played my cards right.

  It was just the two of us in the conference room. I took my seat at the head of the table, which I think irritated him a little. I opened the portfolio in front of me, waiting for him to do the same. He opened it, reviewed the first page, and then closed it.

  “Things look to be in order,” he said, eyeing me carefully, making me uncomfortable in my seat.

  “Thank you. I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me and see what it is we’re doing here—” I started.

  He held up a hand. “Do you know why I’m successful, Miss Adams?”

  I had to purse my lips together to keep my knee-jerk reply from flying out of my mouth. “I can’t say that I do,” I said in my most pleasant tone.

  “Because I don’t let emotions get in the way. Business is business.”

  “I understand.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think you do. I listened to you talk about your store and your products and it’s all infused with emotion. You’re emotionally attached.”

  I leaned back, putting distance between us. I knew my arms weren’t long enough to slap him from where I sat, which was a good thing.

  “This is my company, my baby, which I have grown from nothing more than an idea. I want it to succeed and I certainly don’t want to lose it or my position as the CEO of the company,” I said in a tight voice.

  He shrugged. “I can see you’re emotionally invested, which has been a disservice to you and your company.”

  I felt my molars grinding as I stared at those cool hazel eyes that were more green than blue at the moment. “I am, and I am not ashamed of that. I don’t want to see this place dismantled and sold off.”

  “I’m not in the business of buying companies to break them apart. It is far more profitable for me to turn them into something successful.”

  I bristled at the idea of him doing the turning into successful. “Great. Then I’d like to keep my position as the head of my company, should you decide to buy.”

  “Why? Why would I do that?” he asked.

  Once again, I had to press my lips together. I had a tendency to say what was on my mind, which often got me into trouble. He was purposely humiliating me, making me beg.

  “Because it’s my brainchild. I have the passion to see this company thrive. I am willing to sacrifice to make that happen. What I have achieved should speak for itself,” I said,
my voice husky with frustration.

  He smirked. “Your company is on the verge of bankruptcy. I don’t think that’s your strongest selling point.”

  I flinched as if he had actually kicked me. “My company is in the position it is in because I have morals and high standards, and I refused to settle for anything less.”

  “And it has led you to my door.”

  “You’re in my conference room—at my door,” I shot back.

  He grinned. “I am, but I’m still the one who has the power to save your little company or watch it crash and burn. If I don’t buy it, do you think anyone else will? I have a discerning eye and my competitors know damn well if I won’t touch something it’s because it’s not worth it. No one else is going to come knocking.”

  I could feel my blood boiling. I couldn’t believe how arrogant and smug he was. He was acting as if he were some kind of God and little old me should be groveling at his feet. I would rather watch my company burn than give in to him.

  Maybe.

  “Mr. Bancroft, I appreciate your willingness to show up at my door, but know this, I beg no one. I am not some weak-in-the-knees girl you can intimidate. You make your decision based on what your superior business mind tells you. I’ve given you the necessary information for you to make your decision. If there’s nothing else, I believe we’re done here,” I said coolly, staring him directly in the eye.

  He nodded. “I’ll think this over. If I decide to move forward, I’ll put together an offer. If you accept the offer, we’ll proceed from there.”

  I reluctantly nodded my head. “Fine.”

  “I’d like to meet again. Maybe Thursday or Friday?”

  “I’ll have to check my schedule,” I said, dreading another face-to-face meeting with the man.

  He nodded again. “Fine. Miss Adams, this is business. This isn’t personal. Your company is in trouble. My company has the means to pull it out of that trouble. I have the experience and knowledge to make changes that are necessary for success. I suggest you think long and hard about your willingness to accept change before you ask for the CEO position again.”

  He stood up, leaving me openmouthed as I fought to refrain from smacking him upside the head or tripping him when he walked past me.

  “I’ll show myself out,” he shot back as he walked out the door.

  I stayed in my seat. I couldn’t get up. I didn’t trust myself not to launch my body across the hall and jump on his back, flailing at the back of his head. The arrogant son of a bitch was not a man I could possibly work for. I didn’t like him at first glance and I should have known to trust my gut feeling.

  I managed to get up and make my way to my office. The meeting and his words kept replaying in my head. Defeat was a hard pill to swallow. He had made some valid points and I hated that. I hated failing. I hated it even worse when someone like him was looking down at me and all but laughing.

  All it did was inspire me to do better, try harder. I wouldn’t let this be my swan song. If he didn’t buy the company and I ended up facing bankruptcy, I would be back. I was young enough. I could find another way to rebuild and do it right the second-time around. Grayson Bancroft had no idea who he was dealing with. He was probably used to getting his way, but I wasn’t the type of woman who would roll over and play dead for a handsome, powerful man.

  Chapter 5

  Grayson

  I had spent the last two days crunching numbers, reviewing forecasts and potential growth for the makeup company and was impressed with what I saw. I had someone do a little market research and realized it was a vastly untapped market. I shook my head at the current struggles the company was facing and blamed it on the CEO. She was emotionally attached and making business decisions based on her feelings rather than what was best for the company. It was a rookie move. She was young, and it didn’t look like she had a very good team offering her the kind of advice she needed. They would have to go. That was for sure.

  I’d put together a proposal, for her review, offering to buy the company for what I felt was a very reasonable and fair price. I wasn’t out to rip anyone off, and I recognized how much work had gone into getting the company off the ground in the first place. I was willing to pay for that. I appreciated how passionate she was about the company and knew that could be a valuable asset as well. She’d be willing to put in the long hours and fight hard for the company if she stayed on. That kind of passion wasn’t something you could buy with a fluffy salary. It was something that came from within. She had it.

  My mind drifted back to our meeting. I had been pleasantly surprised at how beautiful she was in person. I didn’t know if it was her fancy makeup or her, but her skin glowed. She had a healthy, lively appearance that drew me in like a moth to a flame. She was electrifying and spicy. I liked that. It’d been a long time since I found a woman who was willing to go toe-to-toe with me. I liked the challenge, even though I knew I would win. I always won, but sometimes I liked to have to work a little to get the win.

  Her scent, something vanilla inspired, had been hard to resist as well. Another time, another place and I would have buried my face in her neck, devouring her with the scent of vanilla filling my nostrils. I couldn’t let my dick lead the way. She was a potential employee, assuming I let her stay on. I wanted her in the worst way. I had felt her attraction to me as well. She pretended not to find me attractive, but I had seen her eyes roaming over my body.

  Maybe I could use that to my advantage. I was in a bit of a pickle at the moment and needed a woman to be my fake fiancée or wife or whatever it took for her to have my child. I had done a little calculating and imagined myself as the official head of the Bancroft Estate by this time next year—assuming I could find a woman suitable for my needs.

  I shook my head. I couldn’t.

  Or could I?

  I knew how badly she wanted to hold onto the helm of her company. I would love to have someone so devoted to the company leading it. It would be one more thing off my very busy plate. I knew it was an asshole move, but maybe, I could offer a little tit for tat—heavy on the tit, I grinned to myself.

  I slid the paperwork into a professional-looking portfolio and stuck it in my briefcase. It was time to meet Justin for our weekly drink. I got the feeling I was a playdate of sorts for him. It was the only time he got to have some adult time away from the wife and kids. I mean, he worked, but that wasn’t the same as relaxing over a good glass of scotch without any kids screaming or trying to use you as their personal jungle gym. Justin’s kids were great, but they could be a handful. I never understood how the man could be that happy with that much constant chaos around him. I was sure I would have lost my mind five years ago had I been in his shoes.

  When I walked into our usual meeting place, he was already sucking down a drink. The man looked a little rough around the edges.

  “Everything okay?” I asked him.

  He looked at me, his eyes a little dead. I could tell something was wrong and sat down, ready to hear something horrible.

  His gaze dropped to the table, staring at the amber liquid in his glass. “Jenna had her doctor appointment today,” he said in a voice so low I almost didn’t hear with the sounds of people talking around us.

  I immediately felt awful for the man. Clearly it wasn’t good news. “Oh. How are things?” I asked, not sure how one asked about a prenatal checkup.

  He lifted his eyes to meet mine. “Twins. She’s having twins.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Twins, as in two babies?”

  He nodded. “Two. Boys.”

  “Congratulations!” I said, impressed by his baby-making skills and suddenly wondering if that could happen to me. I made a note to do a little research on the probability of twins. I needed one heir, not multiple.

  “Twins. Five kids. I’m going to have five kids,” he muttered.

  I shrugged a shoulder. “You know, you could stop having kids if you wanted to.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Ha. Ha. Five kids
. I’m going to need a bigger house. And a van, like one of those really big vans.”

  I laughed at his predicament. “I think they make SUVs that will hold the family.”

  He scoffed. “Do you know how much shit a baby needs? And to have two babies at the same time! We’ll need two rigs or a big ass van. That’s the only way we will ever be able to go anywhere together.”

  “You better think about that the next time you and Jenna are feeling frisky. After the van, it’s a bus,” I kindly pointed out, earning a glare from him.

  “I think we’re done after this. Jenna was not exactly thrilled to know her belly was going to be stretched out again, twice as big as before,” he muttered.

  I waved a hand. “Jenna doesn’t even look like she’s had kids. I’m sure she’ll have her figure back in no time,” I assured him, having nothing to base that information on.

  “I’ll be sure to tell her that,” he said dryly.

  I ordered my drink, slowly sipping on it. My mind kept going back to Hannah and what she would look like pregnant with my child. I’d heard pregnant women glowed. She already glowed. Would she be like a beam of light, I mused. I imagined her thin figure with a little baby bump. I already knew it would look good on her.

  “What are you smiling about?” Justin asked.

  “Huh? I’m not smiling,” I argued.

  “Yes, you are. What are you thinking about? You look lost in thought.”

  I shook my head, brushing it aside. “Nothing.”

  “Have you thought any more about what you’re going to do to get the seat at the head of the table?” he asked.

  I looked at him and grinned. “Want to let me borrow one of your babies?”

  He looked horrified. “No. Hell no.”