Alpha Billionaire Series
A Fake Fiancée for Christmas Chapter 1

BAILEY

A brisk breeze attempts to lift my skirt as I walk down the busy Manhattan sidewalk and shove my hands down to keep it in place. It's the Monday after Thanksgiving and everywhere I look, people are putting up Christmas decorations. This is the time of year when everyone is full of extra cheer and holiday spirit. Joy permeates the cold air all around me yet, for the life of me, I can't feel an ounce of it.

Because the holidays are made to be with your family. And me? I don't have any family left. As much as I try to get into the spirit of the season, it's actually a very lonely and depressing time for me.

It's not easy being 29 years old and knowing you have no one. My parents passed away when I was only ten-victims of a drunk driver who crossed the median and struck them head-on. After that, my grandparents took me in and raised me. But they both died within the past 5 years, and it makes my heart cry. After my grandma had a stroke and passed quickly and unexpectedly, my grandpa was never the same. He always said she was the love and light of his life.

For six months straight, my grandpa visited her grave daily and would sit in the cemetery on a fold-up chair that he brought with him in his Buick's trunk. It became a daily routine despite the weather. I tried to get him to stay home if it was raining or too windy and cold, but he didn't care.

"I'm going to see my girl," he'd say. Their love was inspiring. The kind of love you read about in books or see in movies. After "his girl" died, my grandpa lost his spark and zest for life.

He wanted to be with "his girl."

Grandpa ended up getting sick and when he died, my heart broke. This is my fifth Christmas without either of them and you'd think each passing year would get easier. But it hasn't. Without anyone to celebrate, what's really the point?

With a heavy heart, I hurry up to the small building which houses my very small office. Rents might be astronomical in Manhattan, but I own my own little business and it's important to me to have a real, legit office where I can invite potential clients.

I started Head Over Heels two years ago and it was inspired by my grandparents' love story. My grandpa always said the moment he first saw Betty, he was head over heels and knew she'd be his girl. So, this little company of mine is so much more to me than a mere business. My heart and soul are invested.

And that's why it pains me to know it's flailing and we're in massive financial trouble.

Warm air hits my face as I step into the building and walk down to the tiny office with a gold sign that reads Head Over Heels Agency. Reaching into my purse, I fish out my keys and unlock the door. My assistant and best friend Rae should be here soon but, in the meantime, I flip on the lights, drop my bag on the desk, and hope to God there are some messages from potential clients.

Ever since I can remember, I've been very good at matchmaking. I'm not sure what it is, but I can instantly spot and pair up couples. And I have an extremely successful track record. Most of the couples I hooked up in high school ended up married and, so far, none have divorced.

I'm not exactly sure what it is, but a part of me just knows on a deep, intuitive level that two people would be perfect together. It could be the examples I grew up with in my own family with both my parents and grandparents, but I also think it's something that just comes naturally. For whatever reason, I just know.

Walking over to the small coffee maker, I change the filter, add cold water and brew some hot vanilla-flavored deliciousness. The office instantly smells yummy and after filling my mug to the brim, I sit down at my desk and turn my laptop on. "You're going to get a new client today," I tell myself, trying to be positive. "You need to get a new client."

The sad truth is dating apps have taken over and my skills as a matchmaker aren't being utilized. I wish people would understand how much care and thought I put into coupling a man and a woman up. There's no relying on silly algorithms. What I do could almost be described as artistic because when I meet a single man or woman, I learn absolutely everything I can about them. Then I figure out how their strengths, weaknesses, interests, needs, wants and special qualities would pair up best with someone else's. It's a bit like coming up with an enchanted potion. If you get the combination of ingredients just right, magic happens. And that is so much better and more intimate than merely relying on a computer to make that kind of random decision. Scrolling through my emails, I sigh. No inquiries or interest. Just bill after bill which, right now, I can't afford to pay. But I'm going to need to pay off one today- more likely tomorrow- or they're going to turn off the electricity. Rent is also coming up fast and thinking about it makes my stomach hurt.

Pulling up a new tab, I bring up the business bank account and want to cry. It's draining fast and without a new client to help fill the coffers a little, I'm screwed. Shutting Head Over Heels down will be inevitable and that breaks my heart. I feel like I'll be letting down my grandparents, my assistant and myself.

I've put a lot of pressure on myself to be successful and this kills me because I'm failing miserably.

"Dammit," I whisper. I've thought over my options and no bank in their right mind is going to give me another loan. My company simply isn't making ends meet. Not yet anyway. I really believe if I could afford better PR and marketing then the clients would come. But currently there's no way I can pay a company some exorbitant fee. It's such an awful predicament and I'm beginning to panic. Actually, I'm past that stage. Worry constantly gnaws at my gut and I hate to say it, but I think failure is imminent.

At this point, my only option would be to replace a private investor to help me get the company's name out there and lift us up out of this slump.

Otherwise, Head Over Heels is doomed.

Gritting my teeth, I think again about who I could approach to invest. And again, I come up blank. I don't run in the elite, hoity-toity New York City circles where people possess millions of dollars. I've never dined at The Plaza or spent my weekend at the Hamptons rubbing elbows with the rich and famous. I live in a studio apartment in Brooklyn, take the subway into the city for work and live on Ramen noodles.

I also got dumped recently which should suck but, if I'm being honest, I saw it coming from a mile away. Evan Lyons, though nice and stable, didn't give me the tingle. And it's the tingle factor...that undeniable zing...that confirms there's chemistry. If the spark is there, love can bloom. But relationships take work and, unfortunately for poor Evan, I couldn't give him the attention he wanted. I've been far too focused on saving my company, so he got mad and broke up with me. Maybe I should be sad, but I'm not. If there's no tingle, I'd rather be single. I jot that down on a pad of paper and smirk. Maybe I should make that Head Over Heels' tagline, I think, and chuckle.

"Hey!" a perky voice greets me, and I look up to see Rae McIntyre walk into the office.

"Morning," I answer, trying not to sound glum.

"Could it be any windier out there? Geez," she exclaims and runs her hands through her big, red curls, trying to tame them. But Rae's wild waves have a life of their own. She's extremely petite, barely 5' 1", and a firecracker. After hanging her coat up and pouring herself some coffee, she sits down on the edge of her desk right next to mine and grins. "I had a date."

"Really?" I ask, caught completely off-guard. Normally, Rae keeps me up to date on her man situation, but this is news to me. I lean forward, clutching my mug, waiting to hear all the lovey-dovey details.

"It's crazy. I was in the grocery store, climbing up on the shelves and trying to reach a box of cereal," she explains. "Out of nowhere, this gorgeous, extremely tall man swoops in and helps me. We hit it off and he asked me out and..." She shrugs and gives me a huge grin. "That's amazing," I say. "Tingles?"

"Sooo many tingles," she gushes and takes a sip of coffee.

I'm so happy for my friend, but also a smidge jealous. But only in the best possible way. I want Rae to replace love like everyone else, but it seems much easier for her than it has been for me. Because even though I'm a pro at matching up other people, I am awful at replaceing love for myself.

"What's his name?" I ask, sitting back. She's absolutely glowing, and my gut tells me Rae found something extremely special.

"Jasper. Isn't that cool?" I nod. "He's a writer so I looked him up and, omg, Bailey, he's more than just a writer. He's a freaking New York Times Best-Selling Author." "You're kidding?"

"Nope. He writes horror, which is so cool because you know I love my scary movies. Anyway, we went to this really awesome pizza place that had a horror theme and then he took me to a little independent theater for a private screening of The Exorcist. I almost died and went to heaven."

We both laugh.

"You guys' sound like the perfect match," I tell her.

"I've never been so excited to spend time with someone. We have so much in common and the chemistry is white-hot. Like freaking electric. We couldn't keep our hands off each other. Anyway, he invited me to go to a ski resort over the holidays with him and his friends. And guess where? The mother f'ing Stanley Hotel!"

I rack my brain, trying to remember why that's significant.

"That's where they filmed The Shining," she reminds me, blue eyes going wide with excitement.

"Oh, right." I force a bright smile, but inside, I'm crumbling a little bit. A part of me was planning to spend Christmas with Rae since she wasn't flying home to spend it with her family this year. She immediately picks up on me not being 100 percent genuine and frowns.

"Oh, no, Bai. I wasn't even thinking about Christmas. We were going to spend it together, huh? Shit. I can always fly out after and-"

"No, don't be silly," I interrupt. "I want you to go and have a wonderful time. Don't worry about me."

"Are you sure? I feel like such a shitty friend."

"I'll be fine. Promise," I reassure her, but inside images flash through my mind of how I'll be spending these holidays this year: wrapped up in a blanket on my couch with my thick socks on to keep my feet warm, coffee mug clutched in my hands, and watching the Hallmark movie Christmas marathon all alone. Maybe I should get a cat.

Rae doesn't look completely convinced, but the last thing I want to do is ruin her plans. So I quickly change the subject to work. "No new clients today," I inform her with a grimace.

Rae makes a face. "Damn. You know, if single people knew what a gift you had for matchmaking, they'd be lining up outside the door."

"If only," I murmur dryly.

"What about you?" she asks quietly.

"What about me?" I ask, playing dumb.

"Well, ever since you and Evan broke up- which, by the way, was a good thing- you haven't put yourself out there. Like at all." "Because I've been too busy trying to save this company. Besides, you know my magic only works on other people. Not myself." "Maybe Jasper has a friend."

"He's a writer. They rarely get out of their pajamas, much less leave their apartment. Remember, I dated one way back in the day."

Rae laughs. "That's right! Elijah Dunfield, author wannabe who wound up working alongside his dad as a plumber."

"Hey, at least it pays the bills. Which is more than I can do right now," I say miserably.

"Things are going to turn around," Rae says confidently. "I just know it. You're too good at what you do, and we'll figure a way out of this financial nightmare. Maybe Jasper will invest?"

"That would be nice," I say, but I'm not going to count on it or get my hopes up. Scrolling through the endless bills in my email, I grit my teeth. There has to be a way to save Head Over Heels, I tell myself. Something maybe I'm overlooking and just not seeing. But what?

Without clients, the doors of this office are going to close for good. And then what am I going to do? A sheen of tears covers my eyes and the computer screen blurs in front of me. I grip the mouse tighter as emotion wells up, threatening to pour over. The thought of shutting Head Over Heels down is devastating to me. I'll have let everyone down, especially my grandparents who encouraged me to do this. With no family left and Rae leaving for the holidays, I'm going to be all alone. Again. That's hard enough. But losing my company, too?

Then I will truly have nothing left.