chapter 3 : pretend to be my girlfriend

The door was open. Michael was standing there with a file, staring at Damian's hand close to mine.

"Sir, the board members are waiting in the conference room," Michael stammered. His eyes were on me, angry and shocked. "Lena, what are you doing? I told you to stop following me!"

Damian's face changed instantly. The small smile he gave me disappeared and the cold billionaire face returned.

"Michael," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "Did I give you permission to enter my office without knocking?"

Michael swallowed. "No, sir, I -"

"And did I give you permission to speak to my Executive Assistant like that?"

Michael's file shook in his hand. "Sir, she is -"

"She is Miss Adeyemi to you," Damian cut him off. "And she is your senior. If you have a problem working under your ex-girlfriend, you can submit your resignation. Today."

The room was so quiet I could hear the AC.

Michael looked at me like he wanted to slap me. But he lowered his head. "Sorry, sir. Sorry, Miss Adeyemi."

"Get out. And tell the board I will be there in five minutes."

Michael ran out. The door closed.

I was shaking. Not from fear, but from shock. Nobody had ever defended me like that. In three years with Michael, he never defended me once.

"Are you okay?" Damian asked. His voice was soft again, only for me.

"Yes, sir. Thank you."

"So, about my offer." He brought out the black card again and placed it in my palm. His fingers touched mine. They were warm. "One night. Pretend to be my girlfriend. My mother is very sick. She thinks I will never marry because my ex, Cassandra, broke my heart and left me for money. She cries every night. I just want her to see me happy for one night. Just one night, Lena."

His eyes... for the first time, I saw pain in them. Not just cold billionaire eyes. Real pain.

"And what will I have to do?" I asked quietly.

"Dinner at my family house in Banana Island. 7PM. You wear a fine dress, you smile, you hold my hand, you tell my mother you love me. That's all. My driver will pick you up by 5PM to go shopping. Everything will be paid."

500,000 naira for holding hands? It sounded too good.

"And after tonight?" I asked.

"After tonight, you continue your job as my assistant. 400k salary. No strings attached. I am not Michael. I don't force women."

I looked at the black card. With 500k, I could rent a small self-contain in Yaba. I could buy new clothes. I could start a new life and finally forget Michael.

But pretending to be a billionaire's girlfriend? What if his family insults me? What if I embarrass him?

As if he read my mind, he said, "You don't need to be scared. You already impressed me more than any Lagos big girl. Just be you. The girl who told me I was wrong in the interview."

I took a deep breath and closed my fingers around the card.

"Okay, sir. I will do it. One night."

His smile returned, slow and satisfied. "Good girl. And call me Damian when we are alone. Sir makes me feel old."

"Okay... Damian."

"Good. Now go to HR, they will give you your office. And Lena?"

"Yes?"

"Don't tell Michael where you are going tonight. Let it be a surprise."

He winked at me. My heart skipped.

---

By 5PM, a black G-Wagon was waiting for me downstairs.

The driver, an old man named Baba, said, "Oga said I should take you to ShopRite and to his stylist."

ShopRite? I had never shopped in ShopRite before. Everything there is expensive.

At the boutique in Lekki, three stylists were waiting. They looked at me, then at my borrowed blazer, and didn't judge. One said, "Oga said make her look like a queen, but still simple."

They removed my ponytail. They washed my hair. They made my natural curls fall nicely. They did light makeup - not too much, just enough to make my dark skin glow. Then they brought out dresses.

The first dress was red and too tight. The second was too short. Then they brought out a green dress. Emerald green, off-shoulder, long to the knee, simple but classy. When I wore it and looked in the mirror, I didn't recognize myself.

I looked... beautiful. Not village girl beautiful. Real beautiful.

"Perfect," the stylist said. "Oga likes green."

How did he know green is my favorite color?

They gave me gold heels and a small gold bag.

When I came out of the boutique, Baba's mouth opened. "Ah! Madam Lena! You fine die!"

I blushed.

The G-Wagon drove to Banana Island. The houses there are not houses. They are mansions that look like white palaces.

Damian's family house was the biggest. Guards everywhere. Cars - Rolls Royce, Bentley, Range Rover - packed outside.

My confidence started to disappear. These people are too rich. What am I doing here?

Baba opened the door for me. "Don't fear, madam. Oga is waiting inside."

I entered the big sitting room holding my small gold bag tightly. All eyes turned to me.

Damian was there, in a black suit, looking like a movie star, holding a glass of wine. Next to him was a beautiful light-skinned girl in a red dress - his ex, Cassandra, I guess. She was glaring at me.

And an older woman in expensive lace, who must be his mother, stood up from the sofa.

Damian walked to me, took my hand in front of everyone, and said loudly so everyone could hear,

"Mum, Dad, everyone. This is my girlfriend, Lena Adeyemi. The woman I want to marry."

The whole room went silent.

Cassandra's glass shattered on the floor.

And his mother walked towards me, looked me from head to toe, and said coldly,

"So you are the girl my son wants to marry? A girl with no family name? Let us see if you are worth my son's money."

My heart dropped.

This one night was going to be harder than I thought.