The CEO Daddy Next Door by Karen Booth Read Free Book Online

been. She always managed to say the wrong thing or get flustered when someone asked her too many personal questions. She wasn’t built for fancy parties and dealing with hundreds of people at one time. Dinner for two, no press or media, was much more her speed.
    The masses closed in when they spotted Marcus and her—a sea of eagerly advancing faces wanting a picture, voices offering greetings and questions, hands reaching out and touching her. Some touching Marcus. The inquisition about him started at a fever pitch.
    â€œTell us about your date.”
    â€œWhere’d you find the handsome Brit?”
    â€œHow did you keep him a secret?”
    â€œYou two look so perfect together. Has the matchmaker made her own match?”
    Her pulse picked up. If she was already feeling panicked, wanting to escape, this would be a long night. She scanned the crowd for Grace but saw her nowhere. Ashley had no choice but to smile politely and nod in agreement when someone congratulated her. She laughed nervously at bad jokes. Music thumped loudly. The din of voices became almost paralyzing as people talked over each other.
    She and Marcus were pressed tightly against each other under the crush of the crowd. Marcus had handled it all beautifully, being specific enough and deflecting when appropriate, but once the verbal onslaught became truly overwhelming, he cast his magical green eyes down at her. In that moment, she saw comfort in them, not the man who disliked her so greatly.
    She popped up onto her tiptoes and spoke into his ear, gripping his strong shoulders, loving the scratch of his five o’clock shadow against her cheek. “I’m a little thirsty. Can we get a drink?”
    â€œBrilliant. I think we both could use one.”
    She squeezed his hand in response, landing back on her heels. He didn’t flinch, as if he could take the pressure however long she chose to strangle his fingers. And she liked that feeling. A lot. It felt as if she could test him and he would never, ever fail. He was precisely what she needed at that moment. A handsome British rock.
    Marcus began winding them through the crowd. She walked by every person she didn’t really want to talk to and waved, shrugged her shoulders, pointed to Marcus and mouthed, “He wants a drink.” So far, he’d been a dream date. Of course, he was her fake date. Not a man who wished to take her anywhere by choice other than an unpleasant apartment board meeting. Not a man who wished to end an evening together with anything more than a cold, detached handshake.
    For now, she’d pretend that he really did want to be with her and that she hadn’t been so stupid as to say the things she’d said the night they went on their date—the endless ramblings about how her last boyfriend had dumped her because her job was too insane and she wasn’t cut out for having kids. She’d never even had the chance to explain to Marcus that James was eleven years older than her and, at the age of forty, on a completely different timetable. Plus, he’d been a jerk of inordinate magnitude when she’d dared to express the tiniest doubt about their future.
    So, in the interest of pretending that she and Marcus were a real match, it was time to play the role of Manhattan Matchmaker, the woman Marcus and everyone else in this room wanted a piece of.
    â€œGin and tonic?” Marcus asked when they finally reached the bar.
    She nodded. “Sounds perfect.”
    A man tapped Marcus on the shoulder and introduced himself as Alan, one of the network accountants. “I’m on my second drink made with this Chambers No. 9, and I have to say, I’m very impressed.”
    The bartender slid their drinks across the bar, and Ashley took a gulp.
    â€œIsn’t it the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted?” she replied, even though this was her first taste. If she and Marcus were going to convince anyone that they were