Fake-Married to My Billionaire Boss

Chapter 15 : It's Not A Date

Saturday

Katelin

I try to ignore the coldness in my stomach as I scroll down the website on my tablet. The photos of Raul and Olivia seem to leap off the screen, as shiny and beautiful as any red carpet images.

It's not a date.

I know it's not; I can see Binna and Malik in the background in some of the wider shots, after all. It was a work thing, just as Raul said. The article confirms they were taken by guests at Congresswoman Knox's wedding anniversary party last night. I would have been there if I'd only agreed to go on that trip with Raul. Would there be as many photos taken of us if I had? Probably not. I wouldn't have filled out that white dress the way Olivia did, not having her height or her cleavage or...

My phone buzzes. It's a text message from Marcus.

Pick you up at seven.

I text back: Yes, see you.

The chair doesn't make a sound on the thick carpet as I push it back to stand up. Stepping in front of the mirror, I see the pale green dress I have on and almost wish I didn't see those photos of Olivia and Raul.

I don't have Olivia's height or conventional attractiveness. While I'm happy with the way I look, I'm never one to turn any heads when I walk into a room.

Was Raul relieved that I didn't go on that trip with him? To have someone the glamorous and beautiful Olivia by his side at that party instead of me?

Were they...

No. I shake my head. Raul would never sleep with an employee. For as long as I knew him, he'd never hit on anyone at work. There were women — beautiful women — at the company who made it clear that they would be more than willing to warm his bed, but he never took any of them up on it.

Still ...

They were staying at the same hotel. If they were careful, no one would have to know. Not Binna or Malik.

Not his wife.

I let out a shaky breath. It's fine, I remind myself. Whether or not anything is going on between Raul and Olivia, lovers were part of the deal. It's going to happen sooner or later. This isn't a real marriage, after all.

My mind made up, I stalk toward the closet with an almost fierce determination.

***

Marcus is waiting for me when I get downstairs.

It's a Saturday night, and there are more people than usual milling about the lobby. But it was easy to pick Marcus out, with his height, blond hair, and impeccably tailored suit.

His face lights up when he sees me approach. "Kate, hi!" he says, getting up from where he has been sitting on a couch. "You look... beautiful."

My cheeks grow warm at his unexpected compliment and the look of surprise on his face. "Thank you," I reply, restraining myself from running a hand down my dress. It's the purple sheath dress Raul gave me, the one I wore the night of our wedding.

For a moment, I am overwhelmed with guilt. I was desperate to wear a dress that wasn't a suit or something I wore to church. Something ... nice. A dress that would make me feel beautiful. And this was the only dress I owned that was all that. Even if it was a dress my husband gave me and which I'm wearing to dinner with another man.

It's not a date.

I remind myself that Marcus is just a friend. It shouldn't matter what I wear, it's just dinner.

Nothing more.

***

"I hope you like Greek food," Marcus says as we sit down at the table in the restaurant. "It's new, and I'd wanted to try it for weeks."

"Why did you wait so long?" I say, taking the menu card from the server. Marcus has enough well-connected friends that he can get a reservation from even the most sought-after restaurants in Boston.

"Uhm, I just haven't had the time, I guess." He clears his throat and peruses the menu. "Would you like to share a salad? They say this place has the best feta in town."

I smile behind my menu. We always split a salad between us when we eat out, as Raul isn't too fond of greens. "Sure."

We order an orzo salad and feta bouyiourdi for appetizers, then a lamb kleftiko for me and an eggplant tagliatelle for him. We couldn't resist also getting some mussels saganaki on the side. The wine I asked him to pick out — a light pinot noir — pairs perfectly with the dishes.

Everything is delicious. As we eat, Marcus keeps me entertained with anecdotes from work that week. I feel a small pang of loss, missing my co-workers more than I thought I would.

"Something wrong?" he says.

"No," I say, smiling sheepishly. "I just... well, it's FOMO, I guess."

"You know you can always drop by anytime."

I shrug. "I know. But then I'll miss it even more when I leave." My mom thinks I'm too much of a work addict, and she's probably right. But I'm grateful Marcus never teases me about it. He's always accepted that side of me. Raul had to force me to go on vacation when he thought I needed one.

"You could always get a job at Ralph Lauren." He grinned. "I bet they'll snap you up."

"Oh, God." I nearly spit out my wine. "I bet Raul would love that."

Marcus raises his glass. "A little healthy competition is good for the soul."

"Is that what this is?"

The sound of a man's voice startles me. Marcus and I turn to see Raul walking up to our table.

___________________________________

Please don't forget to vote for this chapter if you're enjoying the story!

My lovely Patreon supporters have access to all available chapters 1 to 19.  You can sign up to support me and get advance chapters at—

https://patreon.com/ansela

(Type the URL in you browser or click on this chapter's external link.)