The CEO Hired a Size 20 Fake Wife, Then Couldn't Keep His Hands Off Her novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: The Interview
Winnie Lisowski interviews at a penthouse to be Declan Brennan's paid wife, signs on her own terms, and Terrence walks in to say their grandmother will see through her.
The woman from the agency told me to stop touching my hair in the elevator.
"He doesn't like fidgeting," she said.
"Does he like anything?" I asked.
She pressed the button for the top floor and didn't answer.
I was twenty-eight years old, five foot six, and a size 20 in the one black dress I owned that still zipped.
I was about to apply for the job of being a stranger's wife.
The penthouse doors opened onto a room that was mostly windows.
Philadelphia lay under them.
A man stood at the far glass with his back to us.
He turned around, and I forgot what I had rehearsed.
He was six foot four, with a shaved head and a close black beard.
His charcoal suit fit his shoulders.
His eyes went to my face, then slowly down my whole body, and then back up.
He didn't hide it for one second.
"Leave us," he said to the agency woman.
She left.
"Winnie Lisowski," he said. "Dental receptionist, Fishtown."
"Declan Brennan," I said. "Billionaire, apparently in need of a wife."
"Not apparently."
He crossed the room and stopped close enough that I could smell cedar and clean soap.
"I said yes to your file before I read it," he said.
"That's an odd way to hire someone."
"The agency sent one file. I looked at your photograph, and I said yes."
"You didn't even read it?"
"I'm reading it now."
He wasn't looking at any paper.
My face went hot all the way to my ears.
"Here's the job," he said. "My grandmother holds the controlling shares in my company."
"Brennan Freight," I said. "The trucks with the gold M."
"She told the board in August that she'll vote for a married man with a home. The vote is December twelfth."
"And you're a man with an office."
"I'm a man with a bed I sleep in twice a week."
He said it flat, and I laughed before I could stop myself.
His mouth moved at one corner.
"Three hundred thousand dollars," he said. "Sixty up front, the rest after the vote. You marry me this week, live here, and go where I go. Dinner with my family, photographs, the board."
"And after December?"
"A quiet divorce. You keep everything."
"The contract says no intimate obligations."
"It does."
"Good," I said, because my voice needed something to do.
"It also says I can't make you do anything," he said. "It doesn't say what I can want."
My heart hit my ribs.
I'd sat in the agency's waiting room for an hour telling myself I could do this for my mother's roof.
The roof had a hole you could see sky through.
The mortgage was two months behind.
Sixty thousand dollars would fix both, and I'd be done lying by Christmas.
But I'd also spent my whole life being the fat girl in the room who got asked to be a good sport.
"I have a clause," I said.
"Tell me."
"I'm a size 20. I know you can see that."
"I can see it very well."
"Then hear this. Nobody in your family, your office, or your photographs gets to ask me to change one thing about how I look. Not a diet, not a trainer, not a dress meant to suck me in."
"Done."
"You didn't think about it."
"I'd sooner set the building on fire," he said. "I didn't ask you to be smaller. I asked for you."
I stared at him.
He took a small velvet box from his jacket pocket and opened it.
The ring was a plain oval diamond on a thin gold band.
"Give me your hand," he said.
I held out my left.
He took it in both of his, and his hands were huge and warm.
He slid the ring on, and it fit.
His thumb stayed pressed against the inside of my wrist, right where my pulse was going wild.
He felt it.
I watched him feel it.
"Your pulse is fast," he said, low.
"It's an elevator. I don't like elevators."
"Then I'll take the stairs with you next time," he said.
"Sign the paper, Mr. Brennan."
"Declan."
"Sign the paper, Declan."
He pulled a pen from his jacket and signed against the glass wall.
Then I signed under him, and my hand shook only a little.
"The ring looks good on you," he said.
"It looks like a rental."
"It's yours. It's mine to give. Keep it either way."
The front door opened without a knock.
A man in a navy suit with gold cufflinks walked in, smiling.
He had Declan's jaw and none of his warmth.
"Cousin," he said. "I heard you finally found a bride."
Declan's hand left my wrist and settled at the small of my back.
"Terrence. Meet Winnie."
Terrence took my hand and looked at the ring, and then at my face, and then he smiled wider.
"Charming," he said. "But Grandmother has a nose for paid things, you know."
He squeezed my fingers.
"She'll see through you in one handshake."
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