Chapter 15
15
KAIRA
I opened my eyes and stared at my ceiling. It was Monday. I didn’t want to move. It was confusing. I was excited and terrified, plus a little sad. Last night, Carla and I had spent our last night together enjoying pizza and splitting a bottle of wine.
I was going to miss hanging out with her. I knew I would still see her, but with me in the Pacific Palisades and her working two jobs, it was going to be hard to catch up as often. We weren’t going to have wine and pizza nights in our jammies.
When I agreed to accept Roman’s offer, I didn’t really think about what it would mean for me. I was leaving my life behind to step into his.
The thought left a knot in my stomach that even the morning sunshine couldn’t unravel. Yet, despite the anxiety, a part of me thrummed with anticipation. This was a unique opportunity—stepping into Roman’s world could open doors I’d never even dared dream of before.
Dragging myself out of bed, I walked to the kitchen to make myself some coffee. There was a note from Carla wishing me good luck and promising to text me all the time.
Blinking back tears, I took my cup of coffee and left it on the counter to cool while I showered. The board wanted to meet me today. I didn’t really know what that meant, but I wanted to look nice. And normal. Roman made it clear I was the grounding force in this fake engagement.
I packed a small suitcase with my things. Roman said he would provide a wardrobe, but some things I preferred to take with me, like underwear and comfy lounging clothes. Hopefully, he wouldn’t object to my peasant rags when we were just at his house, alone.
There was so much about this arrangement I didn’t know. I was jumping into dark waters with no idea what waited below the surface, but I had no choice but to keep myself afloat, come what may.
I pulled on a pair of jeans and a lightweight sweater, then did my hair and makeup and pulled on my favorite boots with the heel that gave me a little extra confidence. If I was going to be standing next to Roman’s giant ass, I didn’t want to look like a helpless child.
My makeup and toiletries went into my suitcase and I looked around my room, wondering if I was forgetting anything. I grabbed the photo of me and my parents and added it to the suitcase as well.
I checked the time. Roman had texted me and told me he would be sending Anthony to pick me up at ten. I had thirty minutes. I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants and paced. I grabbed a notebook and quickly wrote Carla a note.
I told her how much she meant to me, that it wouldn’t be the same without our impromptu dancing in the living room or our late-night confessions over margaritas and chips and queso. I folded the note and left it on the kitchen counter where she’d surely see it.
The door buzzer cut through my thoughts. It was ten o’clock. Showtime. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and grabbed my suitcase and purse. Anthony was waiting for me downstairs.
“Are you ready?” he asked with a smile.
“I don’t know how to answer that,” I said with a nervous laugh.
Anthony’s smile widened with understanding. “Well, I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. Let me get your bags. No arguments.”
I let him take my things and he led me to the sleek black car parked outside. It was different than the last car he’d picked me up in. I wondered how many vehicles Roman had. Probably a whole fleet.
The ride was silent except for the hum of the engine and the occasional blip of traffic noise. Anthony seemed to sense I wasn’t in the mood for small talk. My stomach was a ball of nerves, twisting tighter with every mile closer to downtown.
When the car pulled up to the high-rise, I couldn’t help but gape. The building gleamed under the morning sun, all glass and steel. A beacon of wealth and power. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course, this would be the place where Roman worked. Just like his big house, the office building was a statement.
Anthony opened the door for me, offering a reassuring smile as I stepped out.
“You’ll do fine,” he said quietly, as though sensing my hesitation.
“Thanks,” I murmured, though I didn’t believe him. “I just wish I knew what I was supposed to actually do up there.”
“Just go in with your head held high. The rest will fall into place.”
“Thank you, Anthony.”
I noticed some people milling about, chatting with each other and loitering in general. I didn’t pay them much attention and pulled open the door to go in.
Inside, the lobby was just as grand as the outside. Marble floors, towering ceilings, and a chandelier that looked like it belonged in a museum. I walked to the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor.
Roman had given me instructions on what to do when I arrived. A gentleman would have met me in the lobby. But Roman Kelly was not a gentleman.
I knew that and I was still going through with this ridiculous agreement.
The elevator ride felt like an eternity. My reflection stared back at me from the polished walls, and I couldn’t help but second-guess every detail of my appearance. Was my sweater too plain? Not plain enough? My makeup too minimal? Too much? Would they laugh me right out of the office before I even said a word?
I had done a little research and saw some of the women Roman had been photographed with. I was not even a little like them. They were all tall with legs to their ears and beautiful. Like really, really beautiful.
When the doors slid open, I stepped into Roman’s world. His office was as extravagant as I had expected.
A pretty young woman sat behind a tall reception desk wearing a headset.
“Welcome to Kelly Industries. Do you have an appointment?”
“I’m here to see Roman. Roman Kelly.”
“Ms. Foster, of course. He told me to take you to his office. Follow me.”
I followed her through a maze of cubicles in the center of the room and doors along the perimeter. She opened a door and let me inside a massive office.
“He’ll be right with you,” she said and quickly walked away.
I was in a room with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of Los Angeles, modern furniture that looked more like art than anything functional, and an atmosphere that screamed power.
“You’re right on time,” Roman said from behind me.
I turned around to see him stride into the office with his usual confidence. He was wearing a navy suit that fit him like a second skin.
“Being on time is easy when you have someone driving you around. And you made it clear I wasn’t allowed to be late.”
“They are waiting for us,” he said.
“Great. I was hoping you would say that.” I was being sarcastic. He wasn’t giving me a chance to settle in or even get a drink of water for my suddenly dry mouth.
“Let’s get this over with,” he said.
I walked by his side through the office. I could feel everyone looking at me. They probably thought I was a new employee. In a way, I was.
We entered the boardroom and I was convinced I was going to pass out from the nerves. It was massive, with a long table surrounded by men and women in nice suits. Their eyes were sharp, their gazes assessing. I felt like a bug under a magnifying glass.
“This is Kaira,” Roman announced, his tone all business.
The scrutiny began immediately. They looked me up and down, not bothering to hide their judgment. One woman leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. “Her?”
“Yes,” Roman replied without hesitation.
Another man adjusted his glasses and glanced at a tablet in front of him. “We pulled up her background. Middle-class upbringing. Public school education. A degree from a state college. Father was a mechanic. And her old Facebook page says her mother was a domestic engineer.”
I stood with my mouth hanging open. I looked at Roman, but he was looking at them. Domestic engineer? That wasn’t on my Facebook page.
But it was on my mom’s.
“You stalked my mom!” I gasped.
They ignored me.
“And no connections to the social elite,” someone else added. “Quite the plain Jane.”
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay composed even as my chest tightened. My palms were clammy, and I wished for the thousandth time that I hadn’t agreed to this insanity. They were talking about me like I was a cow on the auction block. I had a flashback to Roman’s expression when he’d been auctioned off and I completely understood how he felt in that moment.
“Nobody is going to believe this,” one of the board members said bluntly.
“Definitely not one of the models he’s known for,” said another, who was no runway model herself, the judgmental bitch.
Heat rose to my cheeks, humiliation bubbling just under the surface. I wanted to disappear, to shrink down to nothing and escape the room, but Roman’s voice cut through the tension.
“You’re all wrong,” he said firmly.
I glanced up at him, surprised by the conviction in his tone. He stood tall, his jaw set, his hazel eyes locked on the group in front of us. He wasn’t the least bit intimidated, in total control.
“Kaira is perfect because she isn’t part of my usual world,” he continued. “She’s genuine, not plastic. Normal. A good woman worth settling down with. Building a life together.”
His words touched me, making me feel warm in a different way.
There was a pause as the board members seemed to be considering it. “And let’s not forget—everyone loves a rags-to-riches story,” Roman added.
Rags . The word stung, even though I knew he didn’t mean it as an insult. Plus, technically, I was a few missed paychecks away from being homeless when he’d made this job offer. I hadn’t exactly been living high on the hog.
I looked down at my hands, feeling a mix of gratitude and resentment. He was defending me, but at the same time, he was reducing me to a narrative—something marketable. There I went again, getting my feelings involved. He’d chosen me because I fit the narrative. It was what this whole thing was about. I couldn’t pout about agreeing to it.
The board exchanged glances, murmuring among themselves. Finally, the woman at the head of the table nodded. “If you think she’s the right fit, we’ll honor your unconventional choice.”
Screw you too, lady. I smiled sweetly at her.
Moments later, like magic, a contract appeared in front of me. It looked identical to the draft agreement Roman had emailed to me. I would have to read the whole thing again to be sure but I wasn’t going to do that.
I stared at the pages, my mind racing with a hundred reasons to doubt this. But as I glanced at Roman, who was watching me with an unreadable expression, I knew there was no turning back.
I picked up the pen and signed my name.
Roman signed below it.
The tension in the room eased slightly as the board members began gathering their things, but I felt like I’d just signed away a part of myself.
“Let’s go,” Roman said. “We’re all set here.”
We left the boardroom together and walked back to his office.
“Now what?” I asked with a resigned sigh.
“Now, we face the sharks.”
“Didn’t I just do that?”
He smirked. “Those were guppies compared to what we’re about to deal with.”
“Is it too late to back out?” I asked sullenly.
“Yep,” he said with a grin.
We walked back to the elevator.
“Just let me do the talking,” he said when we stepped out into the lobby.
I frowned, not fully understanding what he was talking about. Chaos erupted in the lobby. Cameras flashed, reporters shouted questions, and microphones were thrust in our direction. The press tended to report on every detail of Roman’s life but I just didn’t understand how this was news.
Then again, he wanted people to know about our “engagement.” The board had probably invited them all here.
Roman’s hand settled on the small of my back, guiding me forward with an ease that suggested he had done this a thousand times before. I tried to keep my head down, but the noise was overwhelming.
“Who’s the lucky lady, Roman?”
“Mr. Kelly! Is she the secret Kardashian?”
“Is that the homeless woman from the auction?”
Were they referring to me? Did people think I was homeless?
Roman stopped abruptly, turning to face the sea of reporters. He pulled me closer to his side and I froze, trying to give off non-vagrant energy.
“Kaira has been in my life for some time now,” he said smoothly, his voice cutting through the commotion. Everyone stopped talking, hanging on every word he said, getting it all on their cameras. “We wanted to keep things private, but you jackals are never going to give me privacy. So we’re ready to share our happiness with the world.”
He turned to me, his eyes locking onto mine. There was a flicker of something—an apology, maybe? Before I could wonder what he was sorry for, he leaned in and kissed me like he fucking meant it.
The world tilted on its axis. The flash of cameras faded into the background as his lips moved against mine. My brain was too stunned to respond but my body knew exactly what it wanted. I leaned into him, my hands clutching the front of his suit jacket as I deepened the kiss.
For a few seconds, there was no crowd, no cameras, no reporters. Just him and the magical kiss.
When we finally broke apart, I was breathless, my heart hammering in my chest. Roman’s hand lingered on my waist. He flashed a small, almost imperceptible smirk.
“Let’s go,” he murmured, guiding me toward the waiting car.
As we slid into the back seat and the door closed, muffling the noise outside, I turned to him, still reeling. “What the hell was that?”
He raised an eyebrow. “That was our first public appearance as a couple. It went perfectly.”
“You could’ve warned me!” I hissed.
“And missed the opportunity to make it genuine?” His smirk widened. “You looked like you enjoyed it.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but no words came out. Because, dammit, he was right. And after all the bruises to my ego today, it was nice to feel wanted.
I wasn’t about to admit that to him, though.