Something Borrowed: A Million Dollar Agreement

By L. Loryn

Aiden Blake Edwards came to the city to get away from an embarrassing past. He tore himself away from his messed up family to start a whole new life, but starting a new life and being a new person doesn’t come easily and he picked up a few debts along the way, debts that total six-hundred-thousand dollars.

Jasper Van Schermerhorne has a situation that involves marriage and billions of dollars. Technically, he needs to get married so he can access the money his parents have been saving for him since before he was born. There’s one caveat: he doesn’t even have a boyfriend.

So, he does the most natural thing. He holds auditions to find the perfect man to marry and offers to pay a hefty sum of money for the right guy as long as he agrees to a steamy honeymoon.

Aiden’s happy to accept Jasper’s terms and he’s excellent at pretending to be a lover. However, the big problem with pretending is knowing when the script stops and real life starts....

• Language: English
• Publisher: L. Loryn
• Release date: Apr 29, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463191859

Book preview

Something Borrowed

A Million Dollar Agreement

(Fake It Till You Make It Book 1)

By L. Loryn

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2018 L. Loryn

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Join L. Loryn’s mailing list and receive a free short story. http://eepurl.com/dnVcSP

Part 1

Aiden flipped a page in the male magazine he was reading as his best friend Rose stormed through the door. Blue eyes looked up from the top of the magazine as she kicked off her six-inch heels and shimmied out of a hip-hugging dress. She raked the hair tie out of her hair and fluffed it.

Hey sexy. Aiden turned to the next page, eyes browsing over hard photo edited abs and tanned skin. How was work?

Ugh. You know how it is, honey. If I never saw another horny, ugly man it would be too soon. But, I made a lot and no eels visited my cave tonight.

The perks of having tits, I guess. You can strip and make as much as a doctor. Aiden crossed his legs and leaned back into their second-hand couch.

You’d make more if you were girly. You know straight guys love a queeny, gay stripper. It’s the in between from a real gay man and a woman.

See, did you hear what you just said? Queeny gay guys aren’t real gay men, now? This is why I won’t, and I already have more than enough clients who are in the closet with naive wives.

Rose padded barefoot into their shared bathroom, rubbing off thick makeup and changing into comfortable clothes. Sure. I heard something on the wind though. There’s this billionaire who needs someone to marry so he can receive his inheritance.

Billionaires will do anything to avoid working, I guess. What’s he been doing all his life, screwing girls and taking Xanax?

Who knows, but I’m not done. Want to hear the big kicker?

Not particularly.

"He’s gay and he’s looking for the perfect man to fake-marry. He’s willing to pay, sum negotiable."

Aiden paused, flicking his eyes up at the girl who was now slipping on a pair of short shorts. She snatched one of his t-shirts from the laundry, draping it over her small shoulders and flipping her hair out of the neck hole.

Since I have your attention. Her thin lips spread into a smile. Do I need to repeat myself?

He’s gay? A gay billionaire wants to get married so he can get his inheritance and he’s willing to pay the fiancé?

It’s what Seraline said in the backroom. She was pouty she couldn’t audition. You know, because she has a vagina. Oh, according to Seraline he’s so cute and he sometimes drops by the club with his rich billionaire friends.

He doesn’t pay for dances?

Not for himself, we don’t have any sexy male dancers. Rose lifted her eyebrows and cut her eyes to Aiden. Bare feet carried her across the cold concrete floor to the kitchen, taking cold pizza from the refrigerator.

He buys dances for his friends?

Sometimes. Hm, at first I didn’t know who she was talking about, but I think she’s talking about Jasper Van Schermerhorne.

He has a stupid last name. Aiden moved into the kitchen after Rose, pulling out the pizza box and setting it on the counter. He turned on the stove while eating one cold slice.

Sure, he does, but he’s a sexy Persian hottie so who cares about his last name?

Van Schermerhorne is a German last name.

Okay, then I guess he’s half Persian. Let me be clearer. He’s got dark hair, steamy brown eyes, and a perfect little smile. Ahh. He’s the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. It’s really too bad he’s gay.

Stop-- There’s a hot gay billionaire out there looking for a man to pretend to be his fiancé?

Uh, yes. I keep saying the same thing and you keep questioning me.

Yes, because it sounds ridiculous. There’s no way. There’s no Jasper Von Schmiderhozen--

Schermerhorne.

Schmiderhozen. Aiden batted long eyelashes, If he exists, prove it. He slipped three slices of pizza into the oven: two for himself and one for Rose and folded his arms, regarding her with a bored expression.

Fine. Rose pulled her smartphone from her pocket. I wonder how public his request is. She tapped her fake nails against the smooth smartphone screen before turning it to show Aiden a picture of Jasper.

Hmf. Oh. Damn. Aiden’s plump lips parted. He’s cute. He could get a real fiancé for the effort of trying to get a fake one.

Maybe he’s not the marrying sort; maybe he’s a huge playboy.

Hmm, Aiden purred and passed the phone back. Nope. No way. I’m not pretending to be a fiancé, so he can double or triple his wealth just by turning older. How selfish can a person be?

Is it selfish, though? You don’t know what he wants to do with the money. He could want to start his own business, invest, or whatever rich people do.

Or the mortgage on his ten-bedroom apartment is coming due and he’s low on free money earned by breathing.

He’s offering a minimum of five hundred thousand dollars to the right person.

Probably only pennies of his total fortune. He nibbled the bread crust. What all does it say, the ad?

Hmm? Rose squinted at the phone. It says he’s looking for a sexy man to pretend to be his fiancé at an engagement dinner scheduled in a week and a wedding scheduled for two months away.

It doesn’t say twink or muscle gay?

No, it doesn’t. It just says someone who can hold a decent conversation and isn’t completely vapid. The auditions are being held for two more days, and once the auditions are concluded, he will make his final decision.

Interesting. Where are the auditions? Aiden pulled the pizza from the oven, dropping it on the stove to share. Rose peeked at the ad again, calling out the address.

Are you going to go?

I’ll consider it, if only to see this sexy Persian’s face.

Oh, there’s one more thing. Rose squinted at her cell phone screen between bites of greasy pizza, elbows resting on the laminated white countertop.

What?

He expects an, um, interactive honeymoon.

Wait, I’m sorry? There’s a fake wedding, but he wants a real honeymoon? Pig.

It could be fun, though. Or you could ask for a couple thousand dollars extra.

Hmm, true. I wonder how many people have auditioned. I wonder what you even ask someone who’s auditioning to be your fake husband.

You should go. For me.

Yeah, sure. I’m going to go around the corner for some beer. Need anything?

Tampons, thanks babe.

Yeah. You need to get a boyfriend. Aiden rolled his eyes, throwing a shirt over his broad shoulders and a pair of joggers on his bottom half, pulling the drawstring tight around his slender waist. He slipped his feet into sneakers as he grabbed his wallet and keys. Be back in a minute, he called and left. He jogged down the four flights of stairs to the lobby. The boy behind the counter hushed when Aiden moved through the room, tracking his casual movements.

Uh. Uh, Aiden? The boy chirped, pressing his palms into the counter and leaning forward to project his voice. You have a few packages left for you.

Send them up to my room. Thanks, Chase. A boyish smile touched Aiden’s face, eyes sparkling with effortless charm.

Oh okay. Chase’s cheeks burned under Aiden’s gaze, hands trembling on the counter. I’ll--I’ll do that for you, yeah. He ducked his head and looked around, eyes dancing around the room.

See ya later, Chase. With a half-wave, Aiden continued on his way, strolling down the sidewalk once outside, reveling in the crisp spring air. Aiden’s long hair rippled in the wind, the blonde tips tickling his shoulders and inspiring goosebumps over his skin. The corner store was only a few blocks from Aiden’s leased penthouse apartment and was on a corner. The one worker behind the counter nodded and gave a quiet hello to Aiden before going back to his shift assignments. As Aiden browsed, the man went from cleaning behind bulletproof glass to sweeping the interior of the shop, keeping a casual eye on Aiden.

Can I help you find anything?

Dude c’mon, I’m here every other day. I’m just looking. Y’all need better candy. He selected a bar of chocolate and grabbed a case of beer from the backroom.

What kind of candy?

Sour gummies and apple flavored stuff. Aiden dropped the case on the counter, chocolate on top. He exchanged ten dollars for the beer and chocolate and pocketed his change. Thanks, man. I’ll see you in a few days, so you can follow me around some more.

No problem. The older gentleman exhaled in a tense laugh as Aiden left, hoisting the beer