Billionaire's Inheritance Bride(3)

"Miranda," Ann spoke simultaneously, "I was about to call for you."

Miranda was relieved. Ann had read the email and seemed okay.

"About the email, I wanted to explain … "

"What email?" Ann asked. "I haven't gone through my inbox yet. But  that's not why you're here. I got a call from HQ. You are needed at the  penthouse. Look for Sienna, she'll take care of you."

"What? Why?" Miranda asked, taken aback. Ann looked at her like she was  an idiot. Anyone else would swoon at the chance, but Miranda looked  ready to flee.

"I don't know why. I just follow orders like you do." Ann retorted.

In less than an hour, Miranda found herself in front of Mastersons'  Conglomerate. The gold, glass and chrome façade, customized with  suspended planters, was its own version of subdued affluence. It wasn't  hard to imagine the wealth that poured into its various organizations.

Sienna met her at the lobby and led her to a room that was bigger than  her entire office. She sat, feeling like an intruder and regretting  turning down the offer of a drink. Her tongue was stuck to the roof of  her mouth.

Miranda fidgeted, running a sweaty palm through her hair; her throat  burned as she ran a tongue across dry lips. She kept an eye on the door,  wallowing in the tension. She could still make a run for it, but then  she'd never know why she was summoned in the first place.

The door opened and Miranda gawked. The billionaire CEO and ruler of  this empire approached, clutching a manila envelope, his free hand  outstretched for a handshake. "Miss Benson, I'm … "

" … Ace Masterson," Miranda squeaked, taking the outstretched hand. "I know who you are. Technically, you're my boss."

"Can I offer you anything before we begin?"

"The girl, err-your secretary, offered me a drink earlier. I'm sorry I  declined because I'm nervous being here and feel like peeing. I don't  know why I got summoned. I don't think I've done anything wrong and I'm  being cut from the secretarial pool which really sucks. A glass of water  would be great." Miranda blathered.

Ace smiled. She was a bundle of nerves; an effect he had on most women. Who could blame her?

Ace was Hollywood drop-dead gorgeous. His pictures didn't do him  justice. His hair was short in a perfect French crop, complementing the  five o'clock shadow on a perfectly squared jaw. He didn't forget to  shave. This was designer stubble at its sexiest. Animal magnetism  sluiced from every pore.

"Would you like to use the bathroom before we begin?" he asked kindly.

Miranda jumped at the opportunity and, once alone, chastised her reflection in the mirror. "You're acting like an idiot."

Summoning a level of poise that she hardly possessed, Miranda emerged  and immediately gulped down a glass of water too quickly, drowning  herself in the process. She coughed wildly as Ace handed her a box of  tissues.

"I'm sorry … " she apologized, turning crimson.

"Miss Benson … may I call you Miranda? I called you here to offer you a job." He announced.

"B-b-but I thought I was getting fired," she stuttered, then "Really?"  in voice two octaves higher. How on earth did that happen?

"Yes, really," he answered lightly, "But I need to know some things about you."

Miranda nodded effusively as she controlled the urge to whoop. Had she  known, she would have prepared a CV. "Please feel free to ask," she  replied, eagerly.         

     



 

"You're a single mom caring for your daughter, right?" Miranda nodded, wondering how he knew.

"You are not getting spousal support and your only means of income is your job as secretary?"

"Yes," she replied, embarrassed.

"Do you have a boyfriend, or anyone special in your life right now?"  Miranda shook her head slowly, wondering where this was going.

Doesn't he want to know how fast I can type?

"Are you having sex with anyone on a regular basis?"

"No!" she sputtered, "I mean … I hardly have time for my daughter. A man  would just be a distraction." Miranda wondered if this was the interview  or he was just plain nosy.

"Would you like to get married again someday?"

"When the right man comes along," She answered honestly.

"Could you describe your ideal husband?"

Miranda was baffled by all these unorthodox questions, but decided to  humor him. Bottom-line, he was the CEO and intended to give her a job.

"He should learn to love my daughter, and should respect me as a  partner. He must be capable of working hard to secure a stable future  for us as family. He would never cheat on me because I never will."

Miranda saw approval in his eyes, although she wondered if telling him  she could type 75 words per minute would sway the odds in her favor.

"One last question. Would you agree to marry someone that you've just met for the first time?"

"NO! That would be idiotic." Miranda felt she had extended him enough  courtesy to warrant an explanation. "Mr. Masterson, what's all this  about?"

Ace leaned back and deliberated. "What I'm about to offer you may sound  crazy, but please hear me out and let me explain," he said.

Miranda's superficial composure turned to embarrassment when Ace  described reading the email meant for Ann Mason. "I'm really sorry … " she  started to apologize.

He flashed his palm, gesturing her to stop. She listened on and hardly  believed her ears when he detailed the rest of his story. Miranda gaped  at him, shocked beyond belief.

"You want me to marry you?" she asked, horrified.

"Call it a marriage of convenience. It's a business deal. I'll pay  generously for your time. When my grandfather hands me the deed to the  company, we'll get a quickie divorce and you'll have enough money to  keep your daughter."

"Don't you have a girlfriend to do that with?" It was indiscreet, and Miranda regretted asking.

"Not at the moment," Ace replied, seemingly unperturbed. "You're  different from any of my girlfriends he's met. Grandpa was never  predictable and that's why I think he might believe that I've fallen for  you. We can say it was a whirlwind romance. We met and fell in love."

Ace's enthusiasm for the plot was infectious. "Please say yes," he  begged, "You'll help me and I'll help you with your dilemma. I think  this is a win-win for both of us."

"THIS is such a ideal situation. Being married to Ace would mean that  James can't threaten me about Sadie anymore … and marriage with a sexy man  like Ace is the wildest thing that could ever happen to me. It will be  over soon and it will all be okay for everyone. I'm crazy if I say no."  she reminded herself.

"Okay! I say yes." Miranda agreed, feeling secure for the first time.

***

Miranda knew deceiving the head of a conglomerate wouldn't be child's  play. The old man may be senile, but he was not a fool. Ace suggested  spending time together- a lot of time together- "business meetings" he  called them, to become familiar with one another. The only rules were  honesty, no holds barred, and no judgment.

Miranda volunteered information about her past, nothing was spared, even  her first kiss and the first man she ever made out with. She even  answered Ace's probing questions about bra size and her favorite sexual  positions. Questions about married life and divorce were difficult; Ace  seemed to notice, dropped the prying and moved on. Miranda came to know  about his shenanigans with past girlfriends, the lavish gifts, his  wealth and travels, and his consuming passion for the company.         

     



 

Ace was introduced to Sadie, and was smitten.

As days passed, familiarity blossomed between them, anchored on a common  need. They had to convince the old man they were in love.

"I think we're ready to meet my grandpa," Ace announced inside the car, before dropping her off at her apartment.

"NO! I don't think I am," Miranda replied with horror.

"You are. The sooner we get that done, the sooner we can plan for the wedding." He replied.

"What if he thinks I'm a fraud? Is there something more I should do?" Miranda asked.

"There is. You once said you'll never fall in love again. Your  experience with James has soured you to love. You have to forget that  now and act like you're in love with me. We are comfortable with one  another, but you need to be at ease when I hold your hand or put my arms  around your shoulder or kiss you. That's what lovers do, isn't it?"

Miranda was flustered about the kissing part because she couldn't deny  she had often wondered about that. Ace moved closer and slid an arm  across the back of her seat. Miranda felt her cheeks burn. "What are you  thinking right now, Miranda?"

"What it would feel like to be kissed by you," she answered honestly, lowering her head.

He pushed the weight of her hair away from her shoulder, feeling the  warmth at the nape of her neck. "I've always wanted to do that," he  said. His thumb stroked her cheek as he leaned in, closing the distance  between them and brushing her lips with his.