My Undercover Billionaire Boyfriend

Chapter One: Late

ALLISON

I stretch out luxuriously on the cabana chair, relishing the feel of the sun's warmth on my body. The ocean waves crash against the shore and pelicans scream in the distance. Yes, this is paradise.

"Your drink, madam."

I lower my sunglasses to see a good-looking cabana boy in nothing but a tight-fitting bathing suit bringing me a frosted drink on a tray. My mouth waters not at the sight of the drink—but at the impressive bulge in the cabana boy's suit.

I smile enticingly and curl my finger at him, beckoning him forward. It's been a while since I've had any fun, and I plan on changing that immediately.

"Thank you. What's your name, handsome?" I purr.

The cabana boy smiles, showing off perfectly straight teeth. My heart skips a beat. "The name's Nick."

I open my mouth to respond but something pokes me in the arm. I swat it away irritably and turn back to Nick the Cabana Boy but the poking becomes more intense.

"Allie Cat," I hear in the distance. "Aunt Allie. Wake up."

Wake up? I am awake. What is going on?

Wait, am I dreaming?

I open my eyes to see Lucy staring at me anxiously. I'm disappointed to realize I'm in my bed at my apartment in Jersey City and not on some tropical beach ready to woo Nick the Cabana Boy.

"Allie Cat," Lucy repeats. "You gotta get up. Mrs. Stephens said if I'm late to school one more time, I'm gonna be in big trouble."

I fling myself toward my phone and look at the time. My heart sinks when I see it's 7:45 am. Lucy starts school at 8:30.

I overslept!

I scramble out of bed, kicking the blankets away from me as I make a mad dash toward the bathroom.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"I'm sorry, Goose!" I yell as I frantically brush my teeth and comb out the knots in my hair, throwing the unruly strands into a ponytail. "Get your shoes on and I'll be downstairs in a minute."

"But you said you would curl my hair today!" Lucy whines and even though this is completely my fault, I still feel a stab of irritation course through me. Does she not realize we have zero time for hair curling?

"Tomorrow, Lucy!" I call out, buttoning up my high-waisted black work pants and throwing on a pale blue blouse. I quickly apply some concealer, mascara, and lipstick so I don't look like a zombie, even though I feel like one.

When I hear Lucy sigh, the earlier irritation is replaced with guilt. I'm such a terrible aunt. I promised her we'd try curls this week, and I couldn't even get up early enough to do that. Meg wouldn't have broken her promise...

I open the door to see Lucy still standing by my bed, a frown on her face. She has her school uniform on but her pale blonde hair is still a mess.

I glance at my phone's clock. We really should leave now but Lucy looks so upset that I buckle. "We don't have time to curl your hair," I say gently, "but what about a French braid?"

Lucy's face lights up, and my heart seizes. She looks so much like Meg it hurts.

Five minutes later—and one perfectly presentable Lucy later—we rush into the kitchen so Lucy can grab her lunch from the fridge. At least I'm together enough to have remembered to pack her lunch last night, I think to myself, a mental atta girl making me smile.