The Wife Situation: A Billionaire Age Gap Marriage of Convenience Romance (Billionaire Situation Book 1)

With my heart trying to escape my chest, I rush to the laundry facility to search for Carlee. As soon as I spot her, I drag her toward the storage lockers so we can have more privacy. Adrenaline bursts through me, and my knees are shaking. Me being flustered is the first indicator that things didn’t go as planned.

“What happened?” She searches my face.

I might be sick as I breathe in. I lock my fingers together and raise them over my head, hoping to calm down.

“Blow in my face,” I tell her, flapping my hands to cool off my hot cheeks. I might combust.

You know how I know Carlee is one of my besties? She doesn’t even hesitate and blows her cinnamon breath in my face. I close my eyes tight.

When I get too overwhelmed, it’s weirdly the only thing that helps.

“You were right.” I wish I could go back in time and do things differently. “I should’ve reported it to Mr. Martin. Ugh. I’m so mad at myself. And my entire body is on fire!”

“Let me guess. Your timing was shit, like always, and he caught you?”

“Yes,” I whine, remembering how I crashed into him because I wasn’t paying attention. I was too focused on the plan, the same plan that went to Hell in a handbasket as soon as our eyes locked. “He had the audacity to accuse me of stealing. I’ve never stolen anything in my life. Never had the temptation, want, or need!”

“You, a thief?” Her head falls back on her shoulders, and she laughs. “Did he yell? He seems like he’d throw tantrums. Little nepo baby.”

“He didn’t raise his voice once. He was eerily calm and somehow, that was worse.” I hesitate. “It felt like the entire world was collapsing around me when he saw his watch in my hand. I swear he damned me to Hell, Carlee. I’m so fired.”

She continues giggling and blowing on my face. “You’re being dramatic.”

“It’s not funny,” I cry out as I have an existential crisis.

Mortification takes me under. I grab my hot cheeks. I’ve never experienced embarrassment quite like this.

I won’t survive this.

I won’t survive him.

Knowing a man like him exists …

“I’m sorry for laughing,” she says, squeezing my shoulder. “What else happened?”

“I could barely speak. And you know that never happens. I said hi twice. Twice!” I mock myself. “Hi. He says hello in his deep, booming voice. Then, I stupidly said hi—again. And now, he probably thinks I’m an idiot.”

She searches my face and smirks. “You act like you fell in love with him. I mean, fuck, I would. Plus, he’s single.”

“At first sight? Impossible.” I wave her off, imagining his naked body and tattoos, not wanting to forget how damn good he smelled after that shower. Mahogany and mint mixed together. “I’m anti-love. It’s not even an option.”

“They say you fall hard when you least expect it,” she singsongs.

“Who is this they? Because they don’t know what they’re talking about. Also, isn’t he old?” I cross my arms over my chest.

Keeping up with billionaires has never been my thing unless they’re fictional. I’m sure a quick internet search would give me more information than I want.

“I think he’s thirty-nine. That’s only ten years older than yo⁠—”

“It doesn’t matter,” I interrupt, holding up my hand before dropping it back to my side.

I won’t even entertain this idea. It’s ridiculous. A stupid fairy tale, a fantasy. But I know when I looked into his blue eyes, I felt a shift. Something happened before it turned into a horrible disaster. And I don’t want to admit that to anyone, not even myself.

“It will work out,” she urges. “It always does.”

“Yeah, maybe he’ll forget it,” I tell Carlee, trying to reason with logic. “Who knows? It could be my lucky day. He was going to let me leave.”

“Alexis Matthews.”

I freeze when I recognize my boss’s voice. As my eyes slam shut, I wish I could disappear and wake up from this nightmare. Carlee’s smile falters, and she tenses. My back is to him, so he can’t see my reaction, thankfully, because shit just got very serious.

“To my office, please,” he snaps.

“I’m fucked,” I mutter, my heart rate galloping in my chest. “So entirely fucked.”

“Explain your truth,” she whispers as I turn and follow Mr. Martin to his dungeon.

I stare at the back of his black, perfectly pressed suit. There’s not a wrinkle or a piece of loose lint in sight. He exudes excellence and luxury, everything the W represents. Everything I’m not.

When I step inside the cold room, I’m asked to sit. His desk has a hand-carved W in the front, along with the hotel crest. The same one that’s embroidered into my uniform.

“Do you know why I’ve called you into my office?” He interlocks his fingers and stares me down.

He’s stern, but I guess when you’re forced to kiss the feet of rich people all day, it wears a person down to this.

I calmly exhale. “Yes, sir. I can expla⁠—”

“Ms. Matthews.”

“Lexi,” I correct.

“Mr. Calloway stated you were in his quarters and had taken his watch. Did you?”

“It was an accident.”

He tilts his head.

“I know that sounds ridiculous, but it’s the truth. I didn’t know he’d arrived early, and I thought it was left behind. I planned to turn it into lost and found.”

“But you didn’t,” he says. “You went back to the Tower Penthouse instead.”

“Yes,” I whisper, knowing I shouldn’t have done that. There’s only one punishment for a thief—even though I’m not one—so I prepare myself for the inevitable.

“I don’t understand. When you returned, did you know he was in his room?”

This question catches me off guard.

“I did.” It’s the truth. I have no reason to lie about that. He stunned me stupid.

“But you still entered when all employees have been notified not to enter the Tower while he’s on-site.”

“Yes,” I admit, knowing now that it’s not the watch that’s getting me fired, but my inability to follow company policy.

“Over the years, we’ve had plenty of women obsessed with Mr. Calloway. If this was an attempt to meet⁠—”

“It wasn’t,” I snap, not allowing him to finish that thought as my cheeks burn hot.

I disassociate halfway through his explanation. He discusses the optics, the business they’d lose, and the gossip that would spread around elite circles that continue to support the W.

Meanwhile, I’m only concerned about how I’ll pay my bills. Our rent is due next Friday, and I won’t have enough money to cover it if I get fired. I want to believe it will be okay, but I’m living to work and working to live. It’s a vicious cycle, the rat race we’re all participating in. Right now, I feel like I’m stuck in a hamster wheel as I wait for something good to happen. Unfortunately, I’ve only had bad luck.

“Because of the reasons discussed, I have no choice but to terminate you, effective immediately. News that our housekeeper took a family heirloom of the Calloway dynasty could destroy our reputation, and you know that’s what the W was built upon.”

“Reputation or the Calloways?” I ask. I’m already fired. It doesn’t matter anymore.

I meet his cold gaze, telling myself I won’t show any emotion. It’s a replaceable job, one of a million, but it doesn’t stop the emotions from rushing through me. The tears I’ve held back for months threaten to spill, but I won’t give this man the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I’m an actress, for fuck’s sake, and I put on the performance of a lifetime as I tuck my emotions and lock them away.

“Please turn in your uniform and return your badge.”

“Yes, sir.”

There is no reason to argue. I knew when I left the Tower floor, I was fired. I hoped I was wrong.

He clears his throat. “You have fifteen minutes before you’re escorted from the premises.”

I stand. My heart might burst out of my chest as I go to my locker and grab my bag. After changing into my street clothes, I go to security. I wish I had never taken that watch, but I also wish the beautiful bastard had a conscience. It’s too bad. Perfect man, shitty personality.

As I round the corner, I nearly crash into Carlee. She sees the gray dress and white apron neatly folded in a stack in my hand.

“They’re firing you?” She’s as pissed as me. “What the fuck?”

“Yeah. Text me when you get a chance. Otherwise, I’ll see you at home.” I don’t want to cause a scene, and I know I have three minutes until I’m trespassing and escorted out. I need to disappear.

“Okay, I will. I’m so sorry, Lexi,” she says. “We’ll fix it.”

“It will be fine,” I say, but it’s more for myself than for her.

I slide everything across the counter and leave without telling any of my other coworkers goodbye. This wasn’t on my bingo card today.

When I’m outside, I stare into the street as people pass me. The warm summer breeze surrounds me, and I’m at a loss as to what I should do. I’m twenty-nine, and I have never been fired, not even from the shitty jobs I half-assed as a teenager. This is an experience I will never be able to put on my résumé.

The pessimistic internal dialogue begins and I question if I can do this or if I need to get over my pipe dream and find a real career. Like the dead-end teaching job I held back in Valentine for a few years. While it was respectable, each day I walked into that classroom, I died a little inside.

When someone bumps into me on the sidewalk, I’m jerked back to my reality. I’ll pick myself up off the ground and try again, like always, even when life has beaten me down. If I can make it here, I can make it anywhere. Or at least that’s the lie I eat daily.

I fall into the crowd and follow the direction of traffic, needing to shake the funk. I almost don’t feel my phone buzzing in my pocket.

CARLEE

I can’t believe this.

LEXI

You should. Calloway contacted Mr. Martin about his watch, and, well, the rest is history.

CARLEE

I’m in shock!

LEXI

I’m pissed.

CARLEE

I can help you get another job. I’ve got a few favors to call in. So, don’t worry about it. Tonight, focus on your audition. Break a leg!

I forgot about the audition. I’m not in the right headspace.

LEXI

Thank you. Appreciate it.

CARLEE

You’re still going, right? Don’t let this asshole ruin this for you!

LEXI

I won’t. I’m heading there now.

I wait to cross the street at the edge of the sidewalk. I’m a little over two miles away, so I walk, hoping it clears my mind. Returning to Texas with my tail between my legs isn’t an option. I refuse to let the naysayers win. Right now, I desperately want something to work out for once. Maybe this audition is my shining light.

When I arrive at the small theater, I see a big, bright cancellation notice on the door. I stand in front of it, staring at the sign, and shake my head.

“This is my luck,” I whisper, take a picture, and text it to Carlee.

She immediately calls me. “When one door closes, a window opens.”

“I think I want to write a screenplay,” I say, forcing myself to walk away. It wasn’t meant to be.

“I support this amazing idea! You totally should.”

As I leave the theater and take the stairs down to the subway, she gives me a pep talk. I can tell she’s trying to pump me up, encouraging me, but I zone out. I feel lost.

“Did you hear me?” she finally asks.

I shake my head. “Sorry. No. Was lost in my head.”

“I asked if you’re quitting on life.”

“No. Absolutely not,” I confirm. “I’m just tired of being down on my luck.”

As I wait for the next train, I see an advertisement for Calloway Diamonds on the wall. I recognize the symbol that was in the center of that fucking watch. A diamond with a triangle.

I groan and turn my back toward the poster. If only I’d recognized it before I shoved it into my pocket.

Carlee continues, “Chin up. This is a new beginning, baby. And maybe one day, you’ll be able to look back on this moment and realize it’s the one that changed your life.”

“Who knows?” I tell her.

Then, we say our goodbyes, and the line falls silent.