Who Needs a Billionaire - A Billionaire for Every Season Book 2

A fake marriage is the answer to their problems, but love was never part of the deal.

Augustus “Gus” Schultz has always been the black sheep of the family, and he’s earned that label with his playboy ways. His greatest desire is to prove to his father that he’s put all that behind him and is worthy of taking on a bigger role at Schultz Chocolate. But when he’s asked to step away from the company for appearances’ sake, he must devise a plan to convince everyone he’s changed.

Merritt Christianson loves helping women feel pretty and confident, and her dream of taking her safe, organic cosmetics line global is about to come true. Until she doesn’t secure the capital she was hoping for and is forced to consider a crazy alternative.

Gus thinks his proposal is ingenious. A fake marriage contract with Merritt, who is brilliant and respectable—not to mention beautiful—will demonstrate his ability to commit and fit in with the company’s wholesome image. Merritt thinks he’s lost his mind, especially since they can’t stand each other. But how can she refuse when he offers to fund her business expansion as part of the terms of their marriage? And if pretend crosses the line to real, will they come away with hearts unscathed?

It didn’t feel much like Christmastime.

A mild breeze blew in from the ocean, the grass and trees were lush and green, and the early evening sun was lazing about over the horizon, blanketing the canyon in a warm glow, and transforming the sky the
softest shades of pink and peach.

One foot in front of the other, Augustus Schultz ran along the canyon trail. This was the first time he had chosen California over his home state of Michigan for the
holidays. The consistently pleasant weather, the beach, and the solitude were exactly what he needed right now.

As an heir to the Schultz family fortune, Gus was no stranger to fame or the unique struggles it could cause. His father had taken the family business, Schultz Chocolate, and made it into a household name,
creating an empire from a once failing company, and that had put Gus and his siblings, Sebastian and Skylar, in the spotlight, much to their father’s dismay. And while his brother and sister had always handled their celebrity with an air of professionalism and maturity, it had brought out the worst in Gus. He’d spent much of his twenties living the playboy lifestyle while causing bad publicity for the company.

And this was part of the reason he was in California and not with his family for Christmas. Because despite how hard he’d worked over the past couple years to change, he’d been pushed aside and passed over for appearances’ sake.

So he ran. From Michigan to California. Away from his problems.

And he ran. From his friend Adelia’s house, where he’d been crashing for two months, through the Malibu canyon trails. To clear his mind and pray. To devise a plan to prove to his family that the irresponsible behavior was behind him, and that he wanted his rightful place at Schultz Chocolate.

As Gus came to the end of the trail and ran along the road, he thought about how grateful he was that Adelia had let him stay with her and how thankful he was that she lived away from the public eye because of her own celebrity status. Being the daughter of Hollywood’s biggest power couple wasn’t easy for her.

They had known each other since they were kids when his family bought a second home in Malibu very
near Adelia’s parents. Being an only child, she had loved hanging out with Gus and his siblings and had become like a sister in no time at all.

Gus followed the curve of the road and thought back to those early years with fondness. Things had been so much simpler then, before parties and girls and trouble with the law. The feelings of shame began to push in, and he ran faster, focusing on the music coming through his headphones, trying to clear his mind. He had to let that all go. He needed to—

A sudden whoosh of air swirled around him and something hard bumped his arm as a car sped past,
kicking up dust in its wake. He stumbled forward in surprise, lost his footing, and landed on his side. His
elbow hit the rough road first, followed by his hip, and he groaned through the pain and cussed loudly at the driver.

The vehicle’s lights suddenly turned red and appeared to be moving toward him.

“Coming back to finish me off?” he hollered as the car came to a stop.

The door of an ancient-looking dark blue BMW convertible opened to reveal black heels attached to
slender, toned legs stepping out of the car. His gaze traveled the curve of her calves and up her legs and
took in the woman as she walked toward him.

A petite brunette in a little black dress stared down at him with mouth agape. “Oh my goodness!” She crouched down beside him. “Are you all right?”

He sat up and inspected his elbow, which was scraped up, blood seeping from the wound and mixing
with the dirt.

She gasped. “You’re bleeding.”

“No kidding.” He couldn’t mask his sarcasm.

“Should I call 911?” Panic was written all over her face.

“Then you’d have to explain why you were driving so fast and running people over.” He eyed her. “They might even take you to jail.”

Her face turned as white as a ghost. “Would they do that?” She was kind of adorable when she was nervous.

“It’s possible. Attempted vehicular homicide is serious.” He smirked as he shifted to examine his hip, which would probably end up with a nasty bruise but wasn’t ripped up like his elbow.

“I didn’t even hit you,” she said, “and I certainly would never plan to hit someone on purpose.”

He groaned as he stood and shook off her arm when she tried to help him up. “How do I know you didn’t do
it on purpose?”

Her mouth fell open again.

“And you did hit me. Your mirror hit my arm.” Hit wasn’t exactly accurate, more like brushed against, but he couldn’t resist giving her a hard time.

“No, I didn’t. Did I?” Her eyes widened. “I didn’t hear the car hit. Let me see.” She reached for his arm,
but he cringed away.

“Don’t get near me. I don’t know what you’re capable of.”

A smile slowly spread across her face as she looked at him. “You’re just messing with me, right?”

“Why would I do that when my life was clearly on the line here?” He forced a straight face when he said it, even though he really was messing with her. “I could’ve died tonight. Right before Christmas.”

The expression on her face fell. “You’re right. I was driving too fast. I was running late. I knew not to do it,
but I looked down at my phone for a second and when I looked up, you were there.”

Okay, now he actually was angry. He’d been teasing her before, but he really could have died if she had kept looking at her phone. “You know what, maybe we should call the police and report this after all.”

Her shoulders sank. “Whatever you want to do.”

He looked at his arm again. “I want to go back to five minutes before you hit me, and I want you to put your stupid phone away.”

“I’m sorry.” She appeared devastated.

The longer he looked into her big brown eyes, the more he found himself drawn to her. He began to get lost in them for a moment, so much that he didn’t realize she’d taken his unmarred arm and was looking it over.

“Was this the arm you say I hit? I don’t see any marks or anything.” She looked up at him, and he yanked his arm away. Her eyes narrowed as she stared him down. “You’re lying about me hitting you.”

“You knocked me flat on the side of the road. Why would I lie?”

“I know I’m at fault for causing your fall, and I own up to that completely. But I’m one hundred percent positive
my car did not make impact with your arm. So, call or don’t call, but I will not admit to hitting you, because not
a hair on your body was touched by my car, sir.”

She said sir in the most sarcastic tone he’d ever heard, and it swirled up a fury inside him that rivaled
anything he had ever known before.

“Well, ma’am, your mirror most definitely touched me. Maybe it didn’t strike me hard enough to knock me down, but it was enough to cause me to fall. And I’m sure the officer would like to know you were texting and driving when all this went down.”

“I was not!” She stepped forward into his personal space. “I told you, I looked at my phone for a second. I
wasn’t texting. I would never do that.”

“It’s still against the law to be on your phone while driving in the state of California.” He took a step closer.

“I know the driving laws.” She didn’t back down, narrowing her eyes at him.

“I beg to differ.” He looked over at her car. “Does that piece of crap even pass California emissions standards?” When he looked back, her nostrils were flaring.

“Listen, I have someplace to be. I’m very sorry for what happened, but I’m not going to stand here debating with you one second longer.” At that, she spun on her heel and marched to her car.

“Don’t text and drive!” he called after her.

She grumbled something under her breath as she climbed in, shot him a dirty look over her shoulder, then drove away.

Gus walked the rest of the way to Adelia’s, annoyed and somehow curious about this woman who had
almost been the death of him. Despite the accident, he felt rejuvenated by their little sparring match, and he wondered if he’d ever see Little Miss Hit-and-Run again.