Pay Up Hot Stuff: A Billionaire Fake Fiancée Romance Page 2

  “You can call me Jay. You’re Paislee Jolly.”

  “Are you a stalker?”

  “Do stalkers generally admit to being a stalker?”

  He was cocky. And handsome as hell. Those eyes were a smooth brown with dark, full lashes that any woman would absolutely kill for. Dark hair styled with a little wave in the front gave him a slightly youthful look, but he had the eyes of an older man.

  He looked tall. I couldn’t say exactly how tall, but I would guess at least six feet. He sat with one leg crossed over the other. He was wearing black slacks and a white long-sleeved shirt with the top three buttons left open and the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I haven’t confronted a stalker. Until now.”

  “I’m not a stalker.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Let’s go through this slowly. You’ve got a pretty good bump on the noggin. Basically, you blew through a red light and slammed into my car. I’m fine. You’re not. The cops looked through your purse and couldn’t find much information. There wasn’t a next of kin listed.”

  “Did I wake up in an alternate universe?”

  “Are you a Trekkie?”

  “No. I want to know at what point in the last—I don’t even know how long I’ve been here, but that’s not the point—when did you become my next of kin? Are you a long-lost brother? Cousin? Dad?”

  He smirked and shook his head. “No. I was concerned and thought I would stick around. Is there someone I can call?”

  I looked away. “No.”

  “I think your family will be happy to know you are relatively okay.”

  “There isn’t anyone to call,” I said. “It’s just me.” I swallowed the lump in my throat when I had to admit my reality. It had taken me a long time to come to terms with my life, but it was what it was. I was alone.

  “I see,” he said. “I stuck around to make sure you were going to be okay.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I have an emergency contact,” I blurted out. I was embarrassed for a multitude of reasons.

  He pulled out a cell phone. “Give me the number and I’ll call.”

  “She’s out of town. My roommate. She’s my emergency contact. She’s not available.”

  He slowly nodded. “I see.”

  I could tell he thought I was lying. “No, really, I have a roommate.”

  “I believe you.”

  I didn’t think he did, but I didn’t really care what he believed. “How bad is my car?”

  “Totaled. A Kia isn’t exactly made to withstand crashes, especially the older ones.”

  I groaned. “Totaled?”

  “I would assume it is totaled. The front end was smashed right up to the dashboard. You’re lucky you weren’t going any faster. That car folded up like a fan.”

  “What were you driving?” I asked. He seemed unscathed. Was he driving a tank? That would explain why my car was smashed.

  “You don’t remember?”

  I slowly shook my head. “I reached for my sandwich and then I was in the ambulance.”

  “You weren’t on your phone?”

  “Are you the police? Are you trying to get me to admit fault?”

  “You don’t have to admit it. You are at fault.”

  I glared at him, but wrinkling my forehead hurt. “Thanks. You’re a real comfort.”

  “I was only being honest.”

  “I’m in the hospital with beeping machines hooked up to me. What’s wrong with me?”

  “You have a concussion. Other than that, you’re fine. At least that’s what the doctor suspected. He left a bit ago and said he would check back in. Nothing is broken. You’ll have a nice, ugly bruise across your shoulder and chest, but basically, you are okay.”

  “Oh, good. What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Are you hurt?”

  “No. I’m fine. Not a scratch.”

  I blew out a breath. “Thank god.”

  He smiled, flashing a little dimple. “You care?”

  “Yes, but no. I mean, I would feel guilty if I hurt you.”

  “Are you admitting fault?” he teased.

  I tried to roll my eyes, but it hurt too much. “I’m sure I have a nice fat ticket waiting for me. How bad is your car?”

  “My Lamborghini?”

  I groaned and closed my eyes. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

  “About what?”

  “You actually drive a Lamborghini?”

  “I did until about three hours ago.”

  “Three hours! We’ve been here that long?”

  He slowly nodded. “I didn’t know I was waiting on Sleeping Beauty. I had my assistant take care of getting my car towed and handling the insurance stuff.”

  “How bad is it?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not a mechanic. I know the back end was smashed in pretty good.”

  I groaned again. “That sounds expensive.”

  “Your insurance will cover it.”

  I grimaced, seeing dollar signs in my head. “I doubt it will cover the cost.”

  Before I could fall totally apart, a doctor came in. He was an older man with a white beard carrying a tablet. “Ah, you’re awake.”

  “I am.”

  “Good, good. How are you feeling?”

  I glanced over and looked at the guy who said his name was Jay. He seemed to be very interested in my answer as well. Overwhelmed. Panicked. Screwed. That was how I was feeling.

  “Fine,” I forced myself to say and tried to smile. I couldn’t. It hurt my lip.

  I was fine for a poor girl lying on a bed of money. I was in deep trouble. I had no insurance. No way to pay for any of this. That made me a little less fine.

  The doctor was reading something on the tablet and nodding. “You don’t appear to have any other injuries. We did a CT scan and there aren’t any issues with your head. However, you do have a mild concussion.”

  That sounded terrifying. “Is that bad?”

  He smiled and put the tablet down. He gingerly felt my forehead and lifted the bandage. “You’re very lucky. We only need five stitches to close that cut.” He put the bandage back down and gently tapped around it. “We’ll need to keep you overnight just to keep an eye on things. Head injuries can be tricky.”

  “Overnight!” I gasped. “I can’t.”

  “Head injuries require observation for at least twenty-four hours. There are just too many variables. You’ll need to rest and stay quiet for the first day. I don’t want you up and around. You can use the restroom and that’s it.”

  I had to change tactics. There was no way I could stay in the hospital. I knew how expensive this kind of thing was. I was already in it for thousands.

  I cleared my throat and tried to look calm and casual. “I would prefer to rest at home,” I said. “I understand your instructions and I think I would be better off at home where it is far more relaxing.”

  “I would only be able to release you if someone was there to keep an eye on you. You’ll need to be checked every two hours to ensure there has been no change. You cannot be alone this first twenty-four hours. This isn’t up for debate. I have seen more than one young person think they are invincible and then I find them right back in my emergency room with irreversible damage.”

  If he was trying to scare me, it was working. Unfortunately, Bella was out of town for a couple of days. I didn’t have any other friends or family. It was just me. I tried to lick my lips but quickly stopped when I felt the dried blood.

  Gross.

  My eyes darted to the stranger sitting in the corner of the room. He was staring at me like I was a science experiment. I still didn’t understand why he was there. Was he enjoying my misery? I was about to unleash my fear and frustration on him when he tilted his head to the side. He looked like a dog staring at its owner with
curiosity.

  “She’ll stay with me,” he said.

  My mouth dropped open. I stared at him. I wasn’t sure he’d actually said the words. Then I looked at the doctor, who was nodding. I was beginning to think I did have brain damage.

  There was no way Jay just offered to babysit me. I didn’t even know him. I didn’t know his full name. The doctor couldn’t release me to a stranger.

  “Um,” I said and then stopped.

  I couldn’t stay at the hospital. That was absolutely off the table. I would never be able to pay the bill. I looked at the man again. He was looking at me with amusement in his eyes. He couldn’t possibly be serious. He was joking. That was the only explanation.

  “That works,” the doctor said. “I’ll have the nurse bring in the discharge instructions. You’ll need to watch her for a few things. Other than that, we just want her to rest.”

  Jay was nodding. “I can handle that.”

  “Wait,” I said.

  They both looked at me. “Is there something else?” the doctor asked.

  I looked back at Jay. He was my only out. “No, thank you. I’ll wait for the nurse.”

  “Give her about thirty minutes. We just got slammed out there.”

  “Thank you,” I said again.

  “I need to make a phone call,” Jay said and got up and walked out of the room.

  I lay on the rather uncomfortable hospital bed and stared up at the ceiling. This could not be happening. The only saving grace was the fact I was still in my clothes. I would have been mortified if I had been stripped down to an ugly gown.

  “This sucks,” I whispered.

  I had no one to blame but myself. I had driven right into his car.

  “Oh god,” I groaned when I realized I totaled my car. I had no way to get to work.

  I wanted to cry. I wanted to give up. Life had been so damn cruel. Why? Why me?

  What in the hell had I done to deserve such bad karma?

  Chapter 3

  Jameson

  The car stopped in front of my building. Yes, the whole building was mine. It wasn’t a penthouse like a lot of my friends lived in. It wasn’t a big townhouse. It was an old warehouse that had been converted into a huge living space with killer views from the top floor. It didn’t look like much from the outside, but the inside had been entirely renovated. It was masculine and industrial with the perfect amount of luxury features that made it home.

  “You live here?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh.”

  “Is there a problem with that?”

  “No, obviously not.”

  I helped her out of the car and walked to the door of my building. I used my electronic key to let myself into the foyer that still maintained the warehouse look. I wasn’t trying to advertise what was beyond the walls. I used the key once again and pushed open the doors that were just a little on the ridiculously large side. The doors were more suited for a castle than a home, but I loved the look and strength of them.

  “Wow,” she breathed.

  I put my hand on her elbow to steady her. She was a little unsteady on her feet. I imagined the head injury was a little worse than she was letting on. I admired her strength. Some of the women I had dated or knew in general would have been playing it up. They would have demanded they were pampered and coddled.

  “Let’s get you to the couch. Ashton will be here shortly with supplies.”

  “Ashton?”

  “My assistant.”

  “What supplies?”

  “Food. Toothbrush and stuff.” I helped her sit down.

  “I don’t need anything.”

  I smiled gently. “Trust me, you do. Just relax. I’ll find a pillow.”

  “There are like eight pillows on this couch,” she pointed out.

  I looked at the decorative pillows. “Um, those aren’t really for lying on.”

  “Oh. Right. Of course.”

  “Sit tight.”

  I went into the spare room on the ground floor and pulled the pillows off the bed. I walked out and turned back around to grab the quilt folded up on the foot of the bed. I didn’t know how to take care of anyone. I could barely take care of myself. That was why I had Ashton.

  “Here you go,” I said, feeling a little awkward.

  “Thanks. I appreciate this, but you really didn’t need to do this. I think the doctor was just being extra cautious. I can call a cab. I’ll get out of your hair.”

  “Sit. Lie down.”

  She folded her arms across her chest. One beautiful dark brow arched. Her blue eyes flashed, and I had a feeling I’d just stepped into a loaded pile of shit.

  This was why I didn’t do the girlfriend thing. It was like walking a minefield. I needed guidance, like a guide dog to show me the way.

  Ashton. Ashton was my guide. If he didn’t get here soon, she was probably going to tie me up and lock me in a closet.

  “I’m not a dog. I don’t need you or anyone else.”

  “No, dogs can follow instructions. I just meant you need to stay down.”

  Both brows shot up. I was not doing a great job digging myself out of my hole. “Would you like me to roll over?”

  “Maybe later,” I said. Although now that she’d suggested it, I wouldn’t mind checking out her ass. I had spent plenty of time focusing on the front while she slept in the hospital. I knew just about every detail of her face. I had guesstimated, using my own ample experience, that she was a full C-cup.

  I didn’t have to guess at her age. I had peeked at her chart. Twenty-six years old. She looked younger, which was why I had to look.

  “Do you want some water?” I asked instead. “I promise I won’t serve it in a dog bowl.”

  “No thank you.”

  She adjusted herself on the couch. She looked around my place. It was a wide-open space. It could be a little intimidating. I grabbed my phone and sent Ashton a text asking where the hell he was.

  He responded by walking through the front door.

  “Thank god,” I muttered.

  He gave me a strange look and held up the bag of stuff I asked him to get. I hadn’t given him specifics because I didn’t know what I needed. I knew he would know. “Got what you asked for—” He stopped talking when he saw Paislee sitting on the couch.

  I had told him I had a guest. I never specified the situation. He likely assumed it was an impromptu sleepover. The bandage on her head and the bloodstained shirt she was wearing were a little alarming.

  There was blood in her blonde hair as well. Hence the need for the female toiletries. I was assuming she would want a shower—or a bath. The doctor said no shower unless someone was with her. While I would have loved to be in the shower with her, I didn’t think she would appreciate me washing her back. So to speak.

  “Ashton, this is Paislee,” I said.

  Paislee made an attempt to stand, and I pointed at her to sit back down. She glared at me but stayed down. “Paislee is going to be staying the night,” I continued. “Paislee, this is Ashton.”

  “Hi,” she said with a small wave.

  “Hello,” Ashton replied back uncertainly.

  “Ashton brought you some stuff for you to get cleaned up.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” she murmured.

  I shook my head. “He did, trust me.”

  Ashton’s sharp inhale and the look of horror on her face told me I said the wrong thing. Paislee reached her hand up to her bandaged head. “I haven’t looked in a mirror.”

  “You’re fine,” Ashton said and walked toward her. “What happened?”

  “He didn’t tell you?”

  “She’s the one who hit my car,” I answered.

  Ashton frowned at me. Again, I got chastised with just a look. “His car will be just fine,” he said and glared at me before turning back to her with a smile. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “Thank you. I don’t want to be any trouble.”

  “You’re fine,”
he assured her.

  “Thanks, Ashton. You got my car handled?”

  “I did. They’ll call in a day or two to let you know the damage.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Paislee said.

  “It’s being handled,” I told her in a gruff voice. I looked at Ashton. “I’ll need you here in the morning. I have an early morning flight. She’ll need to be taken home.”

  “I can certainly make sure Paislee gets home safely,” he said.

  “Great. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He glanced over at her again like he was unsure he could trust me not to kill her. She wasn’t a plant or an infant. I was hoping she was able to take care of her basic needs. I walked him to the door and reminded him to be at my place early.

  “I’m so sorry,” Paislee said when I returned. “I’m sure I am totally throwing off your schedule.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Um, can you tell me where the bathroom is?”

  “I’ll walk you and I’ll show you where you’ll sleep tonight. The guest bedroom is just down this way.”

  She struggled to get to her feet. I quickly rushed over and helped her up. I grabbed the bag of toiletries, and together, we slowly walked to the bathroom. “I’m so sorry I have to lean on you.”

  “You don’t need to apologize.”

  “I do,” she said. “This wouldn’t have happened if I had not smashed into your car. I was starving. I didn’t get a break at work and was so hungry. My brakes were squealing like two months ago. I was supposed to take my car to the shop to get the brakes fixed but with work and never having money, it just didn’t happen.”

  “You were at work? Already?”

  “I started at midnight.”

  I did the math. She slammed into my car around nine, nine thirty in the morning. “You worked all night?”

  “I picked up an extra shift,” she said.

  “How long did you work?” I asked. It was none of my business, but I was curious.

  She shrugged. “Like fourteen hours.”

  “Doing what?”

  “I work in a grocery store.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know they were open all night.”

  She looked at me like I was nuts. “I guess you wouldn’t.”