Riding Mr. Benson: A Fake Marriage Romance
Riding Mr. Benson
A Fake Marriage Romance
Jillian Riley
Contents
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
Afterword
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It is not legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental.
Foreword
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Chapter One
“I think it’s commendable Rafe,” Skylar Dennis was speaking on the other end of the video conference, and Rafe was only half listening. He was ready for the call to end.
Now that he had Travis his priorities had changed. At the moment he was transfixed as the six-year old sat in the corner of his office building the most intricate Lego sculpture Rafe had ever seen. He wanted the call with Dennis to end so he could join Travis and figure out what he intended with the plastic bricks.
“Are you listening to me, Rafe?”
“Um, yeah, sorry. I was a bit distracted by my son,” Shit, he hadn’t been paying attention at all. He could only hope that he didn’t accidentally give away the farm for a song while he wasn’t paying attention. Skylar Dennis simply laughed. Rafe didn’t like his laugh. The older man’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. But he didn’t have to be best friends with the man, he only needed to work with him.
“I didn’t know you had a family, Benson. That changes things considerably. Why don’t you, the wife and your boy come out next week to the lake house. We are having a little company get together. You know, my wife Marsha would love to meet your lovely lady. All the VPs will be there, it’s kind of like a company retreat. We can finalize the paperwork then. I have to say my boy, I was having second thoughts about bringing you and your company into the fold, but knowing you are a family man, like me. Well, I’m sure we can come to a pretty good deal for both of us. I’ll have my secretary send over the documents and we’ll finalize everything when you get here.”
Skylar disconnected the call before Rafe had a chance to respond. Shit, shit, shit, he thought, running his hands through his dark, wavy hair. He looked over at his son. Skylar Dennis was right about one thing, Rafe did have a family, but it wasn’t the family he had implied. Rafe and Travis were happy but where the hell was he going to find a wife, in less than a week?
His younger sister, Chloe, waltzed into the room. Her arms filled with shopping bags. Her bright blue sunglasses still on. Chloe didn’t have a care in the world. Rafe wished he could go through life so carefree.
“Aunt Chloe, Aunt Chloe, look what I built,” Travis bounced over to Chloe, she lifted her glasses and gave her nephew a large, genuine smile.
“If you keep up like that, you’ll be better than your father in no time kid,” she said, before turning to Rafe. “Why do you look so glum brother?”
“The Dennis deal. The big one,” he said, slamming his fist on his desk. He didn’t like to lose control, but he had really messed up. He hit the table again, immediately regretting it when Travis looked up at him. The boy wasn’t scared exactly but more concerned than a six-year old should have to be in the wake of a father’s temper. Guilt took over. The last thing Rafe wanted was Travis to think his Dad was an angry man, he wasn’t.
“Sorry buddy, I’m not angry, just a little frustrated is all. I shouldn’t have done that. Why don’t you go find Cook and ask her what kind of pies she is planning for dessert?” Rafe silently chastised himself for his temper and wondered how long it would take him to adjust to having a child around all the time.
Travis nodded excitedly, before running out of the room.
Chloe looked at him with concern as she set her bags down. His sister knew about his plan to sell his company, and she supported him completely. It felt good to know that he had Chloe on his side. Even though they were five years apart in age, they had always been close. Without Chloe’s support he still would have sold the company, but he wouldn’t have felt as good about it as he did now. Or least as good as he had felt about before the call with Skylar Dennis where he all but made up a wife.
At thirty-two he had already made their family more money than they could ever possibly spend in a lifetime. Up until six months ago it had only been he and Chloe. Their parents were both gone. Then he had found out about Travis and things changed. He needed the time to get to know his son, and for his son to get to know him.
“What’s going on with the deal? I thought you were only tying up loose ends?”
“Yeah, there has been a bit of a complication.”
“What? You did so much research into this deal, what could possibly have gone wrong?” She was right he had done his research, or at least he thought he had. What his research into Dennis International didn’t reveal, however, was how conservative Skylar Dennis was.
“Well Skylar admitted to me he was shaky on the deal.”
“That’s ridiculous, he is getting not only your company but your expertise, for a song.”
“I know, but it seems that he was worried because he thought I was a single, playboy. His words not mine. But then he realized when I told him about Travis that I was a family man.” Rafe picked at an imaginary spot on his sport coat.
“Okaaayyyy,” Chloe said dragging out her syllables dramatically. “That’s great. So the old man is a little behind the times, but all is ok now right?”
“Not exactly. He invited us to his lake house for a company retreat. Said that was where we would seal the deal.” He didn’t want to drag it out any longer than necessary. Chloe was going to laugh when she heard that Rafe let the old man assume. “By us I mean me, Travis, and my wife.”
He watched Chloe’s eyes grow huge. “But you don’t have a wife.”
“Exactly, but Skylar would’ve abandoned the deal, and then he found out I’m a family man, so he reconsidered. I need the deal to close, and it happened so fast. I didn’t even have a chance to correct him.”
“So, now you need a wife.” He knew the look his sister was making. He knew it well. She was doing her best to try and not laugh at him.
“This is serious Chloe. You know how important this deal is. Not just for me, but for Travis. He deserves to have a father that is around more than one or two hours a week. I need this, everything is so close to falling perfectly in place for us. I need that.”
“You’re right, of course, Rafe. But really, just call Skylar Dennis and tell him, he was mistaken. You’re a single father. That’s very commendable. Surely, he won’t hold it against you.” Rafe laughed out loud himself. He looked out the window, the Magnolia tree in the side yard was beginning to bloom. The large white flowers that bloomed on the sixty-foot tall tree gave off a sweet, signature scent that was on
e of Rafe’s favorite parts of early summer living in the deep south. The tree reminded him of one that sat in the yard of their childhood home. Before she passed their mother had always said a magnolia tree in full bloom would bring good luck. No matter what Rafe vowed to have a magnolia tree in his yard, to remember his mother.
“So, you want me to call super conservative family man, Skylar Dennis back and tell him that I’m a single father.” He took a deep breath, wishing he were outside playing with his son. “And when he asks about it, am I supposed to just tell him the truth? That six years ago, I had a one-night stand with a woman who turned out to be a stripper, who was addicted to drugs, and six months ago showed up on my door step and demanded five-hundred thousand dollars or she would tell the world Travis was mine?”
Rafe paced the office floor. The truth was when Sarah had shown up with the kid, Rafe would have given her any amount of money to leave the boy with him. She was in bad shape, and refused the help he had offered her.
“You could have told him something? Is the truth really that bad?”
“Not to me no. I’m glad she left the boy on my doorstep and disappeared without a trace.” He really was. Travis is the best thing that had ever happened to him. His only regret was that he hadn’t known about his son earlier. “You know I’ve been trying to learn how to be a dad ever since the moment I learned Travis was mine. But I know men like Skylar Dennis, and he wouldn’t see the good in all this. He would only see shame. Yea, he would really love how Travis came to be in my life. He would be sure to buy the company and keep me on as a consultant then, wouldn’t he? No way, Chloe, I can’t tell him the truth. I need a wife, just for the week. Then all this will end.”
* * *
Violet leaned back, wiped her brow with the bandana she always kept in her back pocket, before sweeping her long blonde hair into a tight pony tail, getting it out of the way of her welder’s mask. She looked down at her chocolate lab, Arc, who game along to every job. The sweet girl looked like she was in heaven laying in the soft cool grass in the shade of the large tree that was doing double duty as Violet’s model for this particular job.
“You love coming to work with me, don’t cha girl,” Violet said as the dog wagged her tail in response. She leaned down and gave her a good pet before putting the bandana away and surveying her work.
She didn’t hate that the nature of her work meant she had to be covered from head to toe. It was hot, and humid in the wealthy Montgomery suburbs where Violet did most of her work, especially in early June. And sure, the mask she wore for safety was the heaviest part of her work uniform, and she never got used to the sweat, but she wouldn’t trade the hottest day of the year outside working on her art for anything, and certainly not to be back in law school. Following in her father and sister’s footsteps was never in the cards for Violet. She was an artist, and the ironwork she did for the wealthy afforded her the ability to keep her studio space and work on her art without having to rely on her family’s money.
Violet hated the rich. She grew up in what most people would call privileged society, and she found it lonely, restrictive, and boring. Violet loved the freedom she felt in her art. Working with the metal enabled her to lose herself. It was a form of meditation, connection. Feelings she didn’t get when she played the role of the young debutante to please her parents.
She leaned back and took in her latest project. The iron was formed perfectly into the shape of a blooming magnolia tree. Circled around the tree were independent blossoms, and scroll work that tied it all together. She had been working on the project for weeks, and now that it was completed Violet was almost sad to let it go. David, the man who hired her, hadn’t given her any instruction on what to design. He had told her to use her own judgement. She had seen the gorgeous Magnolia tree in the yard, and fell instantly in love. She thought the tree really encapsulated the house, the yard, and everything about the property.
She hadn’t met the owner of the lavish estate yet, and she may never meet him. All she knew was he was some reclusive self-made millionaire, who ran a company that did things people wanted and paid for. Violet could take it or leave it, all wealth was the same to her, nothing but a trap.
She had been dealing exclusively with David, the property owner’s assistant, a real jerk. He had convinced her to forgo the usual deposit she charged to ensure she was working legit, in order to get paid in full upon completion. She took the deal against her better judgement. A huge payment on her studio space was coming due and with the cost of supplies skyrocketing she needed the funds sooner rather than later. She knew waiting the customary six weeks to get a check in the mail, would spell the end of her studio space, and set her back years.
Violet never worked without a deposit up front, but money had been tight, lately and the idea of getting one large check right away had been too good to pass up.
“Well, it’s time to get paid,” She said to Arc, standing and admiring her work for the last time before heading up to the main house.
The install crew would arrive in the morning and set her work into the front gate of the estate, and that would be the end of that.
Chapter Two
“What do you mean David no longer works for Mr. Benson?” Violet assumed the older man standing in front of her was some kind of butler, based purely on his sour expression and dismissive attitude. Who the hell made him better than her just because he worked for a rich dude? By the looks of the sprawling marble foyer, an incredibly rich dude, but still, did that mean the man had to treat her like some kind of pest?
Arc gave a low growl from the bushes behind her. The dog wouldn’t hurt a fly, but that didn’t stop the man from moving quickly behind a large piece of furniture.
“She doesn’t bite, settle down,” Violet said to the terrified butler. She was in no mood to deal with the man’s hysterical dramatics, she only wanted her check and to leave.
“It’s as I said, Ms…?”
“Chambers. My name is Violet Chambers.”
“Oh well, Ms. Chambers,” she watched as the familiar recognition that most people in Montgomery had to her last name moved over his face, slowly reaching his eyes as they lit up. “Wait, are you any relation to Vivian and Stenson Chambers?” And then as usually happened, at the mention of her last name, Violet ceased to exist and all anyone heard or could think about were her parents.
“Yes, they are my parents, now if you please? I had an agreement with Mr. Benson. It may have been through David, but he assured me he was working on behalf of the homeowner.”
“Mr. Benson had no idea that you were working on his front gate. But I’m sure that once he has had the chance to review your work, he will be more than happy to issue prompt payment, during regular business hours.”
“What do you think I had been doing here for the last three weeks?” She asked.
“Well, I don’t really concern myself with the workers on the property, Ms. Chambers, but David left no instruction, and he was let go, well rather abruptly by Mr. Benson.”
Front gate? Work? Violet tried to control her temper. What she had been doing was art, pure and simple, art. And an agreement was an agreement. The butler didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. Basically, Violet had been working for free. No, that couldn’t be right, this couldn’t be happening to her. She needed the money from this job.
“I want to speak with Mr. Benson, right now!”
“I’m afraid, Ms. Chambers, that is not possible. Mr. Benson is in a meeting with his sister at the moment.”
“I don’t care if he is in a meeting with the Pope! He owes me for the work I’ve done.”
“Well, yes of course, and if you simply leave your name and number. I will make sure he gets the information and you will be able to work this out with him. Once again, during regular business hours.” Violet fought back tears. The way the man kept emphasizing ‘regular’ made her want to pull each white hair from his pompous head out, strand by wiry strand. She was bordering o
n furious.
Why was it that men with money always thought the world revolved around their schedules? She needed that payment right then and there, not during ‘regular’ business hours at some later time that is convenient to Mr. Benson or his arrogant butler.
Violet clenched her fists, and let out an exasperated scream. Arc arched down and let out a whimper. She couldn’t allow this to go on. She decided to switch tactics.
“Look, Mr… Mr. Whoever you are, could you just please let Mr. Benson know I am here? I’m sure he can spare a minute to work this out.”
“I’m afraid not, Ms. Chambers, now if you will please…” he moved toward her, and before she could stop it, Arc jumped up and dove toward the man. He let out a loud yelp and tried to back up quickly.
“Arc, NO!” Violet screamed, too late. The happy dog bounded for the cranky old butler, knocking over two tables, and a what looked like an antique grandfather clock in the process. When Violet finally urged herself to look up and see the damage her dog had caused, it was as if a tornado touched down.
“Ms. Chambers, I mean really!” The butler shouted, from his perch. Apparently he had climbed on top of the only remaining upright table, as if he had seen a mouse. The poor man was terrified. Violet righted the old clock and tried not to laugh at the man.
Arc sat in the back corner of the room, panting happily. Before she could grab the dog, a small boy came running through the house from the opposite direction and started Arc running again. Her tail wagging, Violet thought this must be the most fun she’s had in ages.