The Billionaire Deal

Part I

Fake It Till You Make It

Prologue

Scott

Oh , no no no.

Scott’s eyes scanned the stern email again, then darted back to the damning pixels of the attached image.

Of all the stupid things he’d said and done in his youth, this is the thing that bites him in the ass?

‘David Duke cock’—what the hell was I thinking, repeating that shit?

He’d seen the phrase in some article about a musician, and he’d identified with the sentiment at the time, thinking the expression was cool enough to parrot—at least to some bimbo he’d wanted to bang—but he didn’t really mean it.

And I sent that message so long ago! he thought miserably.

Then his phone started ringing, and he just stared at it. He figured it was someone from his PR team, or perhaps even his best friend, Jim, calling to ask, what the fuck? After all, Jim had a solid reason to be offended by the words, having recently gotten engaged to a woman from the group Scott had pretty much insulted all those years back.

He’d only sent that message to some broad who needed reassurance there was nothing going on between him and… who was it again? Probably Jim’s little sister, Judy—she was the only black woman he could think of.

That girl, Candy—or whatever the fuck she called herself—saw the two of them together once and assumed they had something going on, and simply explaining he’d known Judy most of her life, and that she was just his best friend’s kid sister, wasn’t enough for her. Candy didn’t accept that they were just friends—she didn’t believe there wasn’t a threat there—so he decided to pretend he didn’t even find black women attractive.

Why the hell had he gone so far to reassure that insecure woman?

And although he had long ago ended that relationship, apparently, the bimbo wasn’t done with him.

Whether accidentally or deliberately, she’d screwed him over by keeping those old exchanges and distributing them.

Who the fuck keeps stuff like that anyway? Scott thought as he looked at the email again, part of him relaxing as his phone stopped ringing.

How did the bimbo manage to pull up some text he’d sent years ago? Who kept old phones?

Perspiration broke out on his face as dread continued building in his stomach, and another email showed up in his inbox with the subject line ‘More.’

Scott had a heavy feeling things were about to get a whole lot worse. Considering who the email was from, and the roll they were on, a shitstorm was about to hit.

It was obvious now that just ignoring the problem or denying everything wouldn’t work; the whole thing was snowballing.

His phone started ringing once more and he glared at it for a second before reaching out to answer it.

He had to do something.

Chapter 1

Judy

W hat the heck happened to you? Judy said as she studied Scott’s red, alarmed face.

He had blown into her office like a tornado—as if someone armed and dangerous was after him.

Judy, I need your help. He paused a moment, his blue eyes darting away before returning to her. "I need a really, really, really big favor from you."

Oh? Her eyebrows rose as she studied him. And what do I get out of it?

Hear me out, he said, raising a defensive palm toward her. You may have heard by now about…the incident.

He paused again, staring at her expectantly, eyes framed with tawny lashes reflecting barely contained panic.

She waited for him to continue.

Of course she wanted to help him—but what had him looking so worried and desperate that he had come to her of all people?

He had never come to her for anything, and she couldn’t guess what had finally deposited him at her door with such a wild look in his eyes.

Actually, I have no idea what you’re talking about, she said. I’ve been pretty busy—although I did get quite a few calls from my brother over the past day or so, which is kind of unusual. I haven’t gotten back to him yet, but I meant to after lunch. What’s up?

Scott took a slow, deep breath.

Okay, a few things from my past went public and my company’s in trouble. I’ve got unhappy shareholders on my hands because of this threatened boycott…

What boycott? What kind of thing from your past? Why are you talking in riddles, Scott? Just out with it.

She noticed what looked like guilt in Scott’s eyes as he gazed at her for a few seconds, but it made no sense—what could he be feeling guilty about? Certainly not ignoring her all the years she crushed on him.

"I’m being painted as a racist in the media, Judy. And apparently, ‘Black Twitter’, he said with air quotes, is having a field day, so it’s gone pretty viral. Look, I did a few things back in the day that look bad, but you know I’m not that way, right?"

How would I?

Judy, I’ve known you practically your whole life—did I ever seem that way to you?

Judy shrugged.

Oh, come on, he said.

One doesn’t have to burn crosses on lawns to be racist, Scott. I wouldn’t label you one, but I can’t exactly vouch for you; I don’t know you well enough. You’re just my brother’s best friend.

Scott ran his fingers through his blond hair.

See, that’s just it—I need you to vouch for me in a way.

Scott, please just get to it. What happened exactly, and what do you want me to do? Describe the evidence against you in detail.

Scott’s face relaxed as he gave a sort of half-chuckle, his eyes finally seeming to soften a bit as a small smile lit up his handsome face.

You’re so formal. If I didn’t know any better, I’d never believe you once had a hell of a crush on me.

Judy’s cheeks heated tremendously, and she was glad her skin was dark enough to hide the intense blush—at least, she hoped it was. But she could control her body language otherwise; she was pretty much a pro at it.

And what was Scott talking about, once had? She was doing everything in her power to show no sign that her heart had started slamming her chest once he’d entered her office, and not just because he had blown in like a storm.

She was utilizing all of the skills she had learned over the years to treat Scott like anybody else, not letting on how ecstatic she was that he was standing just a few feet away from her, staring at her with penetrating blue eyes, and that he seemed to actually see her for once. That he needed her.

She watched his body language change as he regrouped.

Okay, so there’s this screencap of a text exchange I had with this girl where I basically said my cock was racist.

Judy rolled her eyes and shook her head. And why would you do that?

Well, she felt threatened by you, and I was just trying to throw her way off.

What a laugh, Judy said dryly. Go on.

And then back in my college days…

Oh, boy.

"…there was this frat party for Black History Month. Don’t worry—I didn’t go; it didn’t sit right with me. But I was a part of the fraternity that threw it, and there are these photos of me where I rocked a more ‘hip-hop’ look—before college, actually…"

Judy burst into a chuckle. I remember those days.

Yeah, it was just my style for a minute. Anyway, although one thing had nothing to do with the other, folks are linking all of it and painting a pretty terrible picture.

Judy cocked her head. What else should we expect to come out about you? Think hard; I need to be prepared.

That’s it—that’s all I can think of. Wait, are you saying you’ll help me?

Judy sighed deeply. What exactly do you want me to do?

He broke eye contact, looking unsure again.

My PR team is working on it, but they think it’ll help optics if I have a proven relationship with someone from the offended community.

Typical. You want me to be a token black friend?

He suddenly looked even more uncomfortable.

A little more than that. Look, you and I have known each other a long time, even though we haven’t really had a chance to get to know each other better. But on record, you’re solidly established in my life, so it’s not as obvious…

Oh, it’s still pretty obvious, but I can see the point. You want us to pretend to be together, act as if our relationship developed organically over all these years.

"Yes, he said in a way that made her think he still wasn’t telling the whole truth. We pretend we’ve been dating secretly for a while, but this whole thing has forced us to go public. He paused. I even get to be righteously angry at having to prematurely announce our secret engagement."

Judy’s heart leapt and she chastised herself for being so silly. If she went through with it, it’s not like any of it would be real.

She concentrated on appearing casual.

Really, Scott? An engagement? That far?

I asked the same, but Martha says it’s better to appear to have a more serious commitment. She suggested marriage even, but I’m not willing to go there—not if we can help it. Besides, like I said, the team’s working on spins and other ways to prove to the demographic it’s still fine to buy our beauty products without being a race traitor.

Judy let out a deep breath again, looking away.

If she went through with the sham, would she be the race traitor?

So, will you help me? Scott asked once she’d stayed silent a few moments longer than he could apparently take.

Still depends. I have to think about it. Let you know by the end of the day, she said, making it clear she was going back to work and he had been dismissed.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him nod briefly and leave.

Once she was in the clear, Judy let out an even bigger breath, waiting for her heartbeats to return to normal as she brought her fingers to the rushing blood in her temple.

What the hell was all of that?

She didn’t even know how to begin to process it.

She glanced at the paperwork on her desk, then grabbed her phone and dialed her brother.

Did you hear? Jim answered.

Yup. Scott just delivered the news himself, in fact.

That’s weird. Actually, I guess it’s understandable he’d check in with you—make sure to tell his side so your opinion of him wouldn’t degrade.

Judy decided not to tell her brother the real reason Scott stopped by—his theory was so cute.

Jim, the stuff he said—it sounds pretty bad.

I know. But you know I wouldn’t be best buds with someone like that, right? How they’re painting him—it’s not him. He told me why he sent that text, and I get it; it was just a dumb decision—not reflective of his character.

Has he ever even dated a black girl?

Jim went silent for a few seconds.

Not that I know of, but I think it’s more a matter of supply. The pool he has to choose from isn’t all that diverse. And anyway, he has a certain type—he likes stacked blondes, so most types get no love from him.

Judy drummed her fingers on the desk.

Had Scott run his plans by Jim yet? she wondered, then realized he probably hadn’t—Jim would have said something by now. So should she mention it?

She decided not to.

If she was being honest with herself, the decision had been made already—the moment Scott mentioned the opportunity for them to get to know each other better, to hang out and be together, even if it was all for show.

After the many years she spent pining for him, wishing he would notice her, she now had a chance to get him to really see her, to show him what he’d been missing.

He’ll be fine, Jim—don’t worry. His PR team has a plan.

So I’ve heard, but he didn’t give me any details. Anyway, I just wanted to check on you.

Thanks, brother. See you soon?

Probably.

Judy hung up, then paused, staring at nothing as her mind worked.

Scott had been in her life for as long as she could remember.

She developed a crush on him early—a crush that never went away, no matter what she eventually kept hearing about crushes and first love.

You’re not really in love with him, her only college friend had assured her when she talked about missing him. "It’s just this biological thing he activated in you, and because he’s the first to do it, it’s sticking longer. And that whole ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ thing—don’t worry. When you actually meet the right guy someday, you’ll look back and wonder how you ever thought you were in love for that long with that guy. Your first crush will probably always hold a small special place in your heart, but what you think you feel, it’s not love. You don’t even really know him!"

Judy didn’t say anything at the time, but she disagreed with her friend intensely because, well, didn’t she know him?

She didn’t necessarily know his favorite color or superhero, his favorite food or most hated school subject, and definitely not what he fantasized about or dreaded, but she knew him—his essence. She’d gotten doses of him regularly; she glimpsed him raw and uncut during their youth.

Hadn’t there been people who had fallen in love with each other even with language barriers between them? Couldn’t you have such a strong sense of familiarity with a soul that nitty gritty details didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things?

Her mother had supposedly fallen in love with her instantly, and what did she know about the dark-skinned baby she happened to stumble upon in an orphanage at that time? Nothing at all, and yet she was drawn to her and fought to adopt her.

Jim loved her, but her brother didn’t know everything about her even now—nowhere near it.

She might not be privy to certain details about Scott, but his joy always made her feel happy, and his sadness, anger, or disappointment always ended up dampening her own mood.

When tied to someone else’s emotions like that, didn’t that mean you loved them to some degree?

Her mother had always said apathy was the opposite of love, and when it came to Scott, apathy was not an option.

Judy was a highly logical person, but she was fully aware that the pull of someone’s spirit could somehow trump whatever the brain