Pretend You're Mine

  Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter 1: Lydia

  Chapter 2: Taylor

  Chapter 3: Lydia

  Chapter 4: Lydia

  Chapter 5: Taylor

  Chapter 6: Lydia

  Chapter 7: Taylor

  Chapter 8: Lydia

  Chapter 9: Lydia

  Chapter 10: Lydia

  Chapter 11: Taylor

  Chapter 12: Lydia

  Chapter 13: Lydia

  Chapter 14: Taylor

  Chapter 15: Lydia

  Chapter 16: Taylor

  Chapter 17: Lydia

  Chapter 18: Taylor

  Chapter 19: Lydia

  Epilogue: Lydia

  Copyright © 2020 by HAILEY SMOKE

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  Chapter 1: Lydia

  I always thought I was a glass-half full kind of person. My friends often teased me that I’d even say an empty glass could become full again. Life just seemed so much better if you tried to look on the bright side. I had trouble feeling that way as I clicked the elevator button about thirty times like it was for a crane machine and I knew I would be grabbing that teddy bear. I wish that what was awaiting me on the top floor was going to be just as thrilling. No, I had to be late with my entire business on the line. The machine was going to shake, and I was going to lose my prize. The doors finally slid open, I basically jumped inside, and slammed my palm on the button for the top floor. I checked my grapefruit lipstick in the reflection of the metal ceiling, craning my neck to catch any smudges. My legs began to wobble as the elevator climbed. Thank god that no one else seemed to be getting off and on so I could panic in peace. I smoothed out my navy pencil skirt, checked the buttons again on my pale-yellow button up, and rolled up my oversized navy blazer to my elbows. I looked presentable and on trend, but would that save me? What on earth was I going to say to Mr. Hirano? I was late for the stupidest reason possible, and I had a feeling that the kind of company that had been around as long as Hirano Enterprises didn’t see the glass half full. They saw them as transactions to reject or accept.

  The elevator ride was over too quickly. I slipped out as soon as the doors opened enough, and I headed to the boardroom the receptionist told me about. I pried the doors open and instead of a committee I saw one man sitting at the head of the table. I recognized him as the man I struggled to get on the phone to even set a time. “Mr. Hirano.”

  “Ms. Maxwell.” He said sharply. He stood and took my handshake. I was always told you could tell a lot about someone by their handshake: his was firm and quick, like he wanted it over as soon as possible. His mouth was pressed into a thin line, his dark brown eyes scrutinizing my every movement as I tried to decide what chair to sit at. Did I sit across the way? Would that be awkward? The middle felt safe but too far away. Why was this meeting in such a big space? I pulled out a chair and sat down about three chairs away and set down my briefcase on the table.

  “You can call me Lydia,” I offered, and smiled at him.

  He cocked his eyebrows slightly and somehow looked bored. “Mr. Hirano is fine.”

  “Oh. Okay” I tried to play off my intimidation with a small laugh. “Well, thank you for meeting with me today. I appreciate your interest in my business—” he cleared his throat. “Excuse me?” I tried to ask brightly.

  “You are late.” His cold brown eyes stared right at me.

  “Oh. Yes. Of course. I am!” I tried to turn my grimace into something like a smile. “I deeply apologize for my lateness. I had an issue I had to resolve. I made sure to call your receptionist as soon as I knew it was going to be a problem. However, I know it isn’t very professional, so I am deeply sorry, but I hope you will excuse the mistake this time and I promise to keep appointments in the future.” I had practiced those lines over and over again in my head as I ran through the Chicago streets to his office. I thought it was reasonable and showed how professional I was despite my lapse.

  “What issue?”

  “What?” That I hadn’t planned.

  “What was the issue you had to resolve?”

  “It was one of a personal nature,” I hedged. I found myself grabbing at my hair but quickly shoved my hands back to the table. It was a nervous habit, and it would only make me look more suspicious.

  He leaned in over the meeting table. Even though I was a few seats away, I felt like he was hovering over me. “As a professional, you have to own up to your mistakes, in full.” It was the most he had said to me so far.

  I sighed and looked down at my hands. It was wrong to lie, but the force of his gaze made me feel like I had to tell him. “There was a dog.”

  “A dog.” I cringed at his tone. He sounded like he was about to scold me, like I was a child who’d done something wrong.

  “I saw a dog at a cafe. The owner let me pet him and we got to talking. Honestly, I didn’t realize how much time was passing. I’m sorry. I really am.” It was a Shiba inu, I love them. It was the silliest reason to be late and I wish I hadn’t been so distracted, but I’d always had trouble focusing. I looked up at him hoping to find sympathy in his face.

  He had a sharp face, all angles, lightly tanned and a business-appropriate amount of stubble. The only softness I found was the way his short black hair fell orderly, yet I could tell it was wavy. He let out a long breath and then sat back in his chair. “Now, since we’ve got all of that cleared up, tell me your proposal.”

  I tried not to let my shock show on my face. His expression was still so severe but at least he hadn’t kicked me out. Not that I would have blamed him. I felt my confidence return, a warm feeling spreading through my chest. “Of course, Mr. Hirano.”

  I found my smile easily and began pulling papers from my briefcase. I was a professional. I could do this. “Chicago’s fashion scene is getting bigger and bigger, and with the sixth annual Chicago fashion week being a huge success last year, I can see Chicago becoming as big as New York.” He nodded which I saw as a positive. I slid over a few glossy photos. “I think, since the Hirano name is in so many industries, fashion could be next. My company, Sew Fit, is a designer menswear brand that has appeared on the runway and in several top magazines.” I gestured to the pictures and he flipped through them. “We just need an investor to grow our brand and get our name out even further.”

  “What would you do with our money?”

  Why’d he have to ask such blunt questions? Of course, I had a plan drawn up, but I wanted to get into it slowly, hopefully once Mr. Hirano had shown a bit more positive interest. “The money would be used mostly to hire and pay a larger group of designers. Right now, our company has only ten people, but we want to expand.”

  “What do you do?”

  “Me?” What did that have to do with the money? “I’m a designer too. But I spend most of my time managing the company: planning shoots, coordinating with magazines. So, I don’t design as much as I used to.”

  He didn’t have any follow up questions. I guess I overshared. I just needed to focus and get back to the pitch.

  “Besides the returns our partnership will produce, we have some unexpected, unique benefits.”

  “Such as?” Couldn’t he be a little more excited, at least pretend?

&nb
sp; “You and the CEO, your grandfather, right? You could sport our tuxedos and jackets at events.”

  “You think I’m a model?”

  “Well.” I looked him over, he was wearing a suit jacket, tailored well enough. I knew my people could do better. It was a little bit too small for him, I could see the way his arms strained at the sleeves when he moved. Or maybe his tailor did know what they were doing; I could tell even as dressed up as he was that there was muscle under there. “I think you’d look great in one of our suits, Sir.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” He pushed the photos back to me. “What makes you think I would want to model your work?”

  “Having a personal style can help build your brand, and we can offer just that. I’ve done my research Mr. Hirano, it’s likely that you’ll take over the company any year now. Once that happens, you’re going to need to create an image for yourself to sell yourself and your company to the world. Hirano Enterprises is seen as an older, outdated company. We can help you be seen as trendy, to recreate the company’s image to the modern world.”

  “I think we’re done here.” He abruptly stood up from his seat and started heading out, not even glancing at me as he passed by.

  “Excuse me?” I started to gather up my photos in my arms, dropping a few as I followed him out. “I’m sorry, what’s wrong?”

  I watched his head shake and he turned to face me. “Do you always insult your investors before asking them for money?”

  I sputtered. I thought it was going well, even after my lateness, how did it go so wrong so quickly? “I didn’t mean to imply anything—”

  “I believe you,” He said. “I would advise watching your words more carefully next time.” He turned back around, heading for the elevator, which opened immediately for him, and then he was gone.

  ***

  “He sounds like a dick.” My best friend, roommate, and co-owner of Sew Fit, Michael picked through his vegan wrap. We recognized each other’s talents while we were getting our degrees and we found that, when we collaborated, magic happened. He was also crazy enough to start a company with me. He was the one on the trends keeping my more, he might say, unrestrained ideas from blowing up in the bad way. He was like a chameleon, always looking slightly different each time I saw him, even though I lived with him. Today he had short cut bleached white hair and wore a large lilac crop-top, the color was very in.

  “I was so stupid,” I mumbled, shoving my palms in my eyes. I looked back up at him, and pointed at him, narrowing my eyes, “You.”

  “Me?”

  “You told me it would be better if I went by myself,” I accused.

  “I was sure your charm would cinch it for us: I thought all hot billionaires were sexist.”

  “Mike.”

  “He can be hot and a dick at the same time.” Michael rolled his eyes. “My last girlfriend was both hot and a dick.”

  “He’s not a dick,” I said frowning. “He maybe needs to brush up on his people skills, and maybe he’s too shy to speak a lot.”

  “Oh, come on Lydia, be a bitch for once in your life, we’re in the fashion world.” His smile turned softer. “I’m done teasing. I said you should go because you are the face of the company, and you’ve always been better at public speaking than me. I would have ended up getting kicked out by him much quicker than you. Anyways, that was only one opportunity. There will be more, and you’ll get the next one, I know it.”

  “That was the best opportunity we had though. And I was late, and I offended him, and maybe his grandfather also? You should just fire me.”

  “That would be like firing you from our friendship. No way Lyds; we will either rise to the top with Sew Fit or crash and burn in a fiery wreck together.”

  “I guess that makes me feel better.” I was teasing but, it did. I wasn't going to let this end all of my dreams. I’d move past this and all of Hirano Enterprises.

  “Now, try to get something to eat. No more of this too sad to eat shit. Then we can go to Millennium Park and I’ll make fun of the tourists at The Bean and you can point out to me the silliest looking pigeons.”

  “You sure know how to cheer me up,” I said. I reached for my briefcase and found air instead. I swore my heart stopped then.

  “What’s wrong Lyds? You got your panicked face on.”

  “I raced here so quickly after the meeting I didn’t even realize I left my briefcase there. I was so flustered.” I was speaking so quickly I was running out of air. I grabbed my hair in frustration, the tight curls twisting in my fingers.

  “I can go back for it, so you don’t have to see that jerk again.”

  “No.” I took a deep breath and tried to center myself. “This is good.”

  “It is?”

  “Yes.” I wasn’t sure if I was convincing him or myself. “I wanted to send an apology email later, but now I can do it in person. It won’t get us the investor but maybe he won’t try to kill our business if I’m nice enough. I’ll send his receptionist an email and I’ll pick it up tomorrow.”

  “And if you happen to wander into his office while you’re there?”

  “It would be the perfect opportunity to apologize.”

  “Perfect.”

  “If it’s alright with you, I think we should go to the park some other day. I feel energized, I want to get working.”

  “I love when you get like this Lydia. As long as you order something to eat once we get there, let’s head back to the office. I have to look over what we’re working with for Pre-Fall anyway. I swear if it’s tie dye again I will scream.”

  “Michael, you’re the greatest. Ever.”

  That night we started planning for the next season, and I had sent out so many emails to new investors my eyeballs still stung when I finally closed my eyes that night to go to sleep.

  Tomorrow, I just had to apologize, get my briefcase, and then I could be officially done with Hirano Enterprises.

  Chapter 2: Taylor

  I scrolled through my voicemails on my phone, deleting each without listening to them. I’d left the office early that day, after that mess of a meeting. I was sitting on a bar stool by the marble kitchen counter, my laptop sitting in front of me with my email pulled up. I was still working despite my departure. I just didn’t want to be there anymore.

  I kept thinking back to that woman. Did she honestly think calling my family’s company outdated was going to work in her favor? I rolled my eyes with no one there to see it. I had wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, after what she said about being late. A dog? I laughed thinking about it. I wanted to see where she was going after that, only someone interesting would own up to something like that. Too bad she ended up being boring after all.

  I sighed, like I was trying to push the thoughts of the meeting out of my head so I could get back to my work. I was about to, when the doorbell chimed throughout the house. I looked less professional now that I was home, whoever it was would have to deal with it. My jacket and tie were thrown over the banister in the hall, shoes abandoned at the front door, my cuffs unbuttoned, sleeves wrinkling at my elbows, and the top three buttons undone so I could breath. That Ms. Maxwell was right about needing a new wardrobe. My last stylist seemed to screw up the sizes on all of my professional wear: everything was just a little too small. I’d also been working out more recently. But not too much. Overworking yourself at the gym is just another way of harming yourself. I could hear my therapist’s even, but high-pitched, voice float through my thoughts. Either way, I was gaining the muscles of my twenties back not that I am that old, I’m thirty, and I needed new clothes to accommodate that. I wondered if Ms. Maxwell’s tailors were better than my old one.

  Why was I still thinking about her? Well, a meeting that bad was bound to leave an impression, I guessed.

  I headed to the door and looked at my security cameras facing the door on my way. Outside was my grandfather, and CEO of Hirano Enterprises, Ikari Hirano.

  “Jiji,” I greeted hi
m as I let him into my home.

  My grandfather emigrated from Japan in 1950 when he was in his twenties and built up Hirano Enterprises from the ground up. He was a stout man, with dark tan skin, and wrinkles folding his face. I got my brown eyes from him. I idolized him when I was a child and I had worked for him since I graduated college. Still, he was very traditional, and it was rare to receive affection from him. When he stepped into my hall he looked around and in greeting said, “Still no doorman?”

  “I have a housecleaner who’s here every weekday Jiji,” I reminded him.

  “You could have many workers here Taylor,” he reminded me as he headed into one of my living rooms. “Your house is too big to be so empty. Buy an apartment if you are not going to use it.”

  I struggled to keep pace with him. I kept my face neutral as I responded, “I told you before, I like my privacy.”

  He waved his hand around in a way I knew meant he found my answer ridiculous. He changed the subject regardless, “How was your meeting today?”

  “I don’t foresee us pursuing any further communication with that fashion company,” I explained.

  “Hm.” He continued on through my house, like he was touring it with me following him around. Finally, he stopped in the kitchen glancing around like he was looking for something. His eyes finally landed on me. “When are you getting married?”

  I am not often caught off guard, yet at that question I stopped breathing. He kept looking at me and I coughed trying to get air back into my lungs. “Excuse me?”

  “You are almost thirty-one,” he said as if that explained it.

  “I know you got married when you were eighteen, but that’s because you met Sobo in high school.” I reminded him, keeping my deep voice steady despite my heart pounding in my chest.

  “And I have respected your decision this long.” He said like he was being the reasonable one. “But you are going to become CEO.”

  “Not for a while though.”

  “No.” He said firmly. “You will become CEO at the end of this year.”

  It was July so I’d be CEO in less than six months. “But Jiji—”