His Fake Fiancee: BBW Romance (Fake it For Me) - Page 6

I keep my eyes ahead of me, not looking his way. Although Martin is in the office next to Simon’s and he’s in and out talking to Simon almost every day, he’s one of those guys. The guys who look through me as if I’m not there. The rare times he interacts with me, he keeps his eyes anywhere but on me. The message is clear: Don’t meet my eye, fatty, don’t dream of me as a potential boyfriend, don’t like me, don’t fall for me. I know you want me but I don’t want anything t

o do with you.

Despite him being one of those guys, I don’t hate him. I’m too used to it. I’ve returned the favor, looking through him, refusing to meet his eyes. If I have to acknowledge him it’s without any type of warmth.

I can see in the reflection of the elevator doors Martin’s eyes running over my long hair flowing down my back. It’s rare for me to leave it loose because it’s so long, ending only inches above the base of my spine. And if I do, it’s straightened. From it being up in a bun, it’s falling in waves I managed to convince myself are pretty. The way he’s looking at it, I’m wondering if I was delusional.

“Going to the meeting to present the proposal for Simon.”

“Did you let the solar system know?”

The solar system is how the rest of the company refers to Ivan’s three assistants who are always at his side, constantly revolving around him. Rumors are one of them even follows him into the restroom.

Again, I don’t look his way. “Nope.”

“Hmm.” It’s barely a sound.

The doors open; I step out of the elevator then wonder where the hell the meeting is.

“It’s this way.” Martin indicates to the left.

I nod then follow him. It isn’t far to a large conference room. The outside wall is glass with a dark film, while the inside wall is also glass, this one clear. The conference table has twenty chairs around it. The other acquisition managers are already there, four in total. Only one of them is a woman. I’m surprised when Martin holds out a chair for me.

With a murmured “thank you” I take the seat. Careful to keep my eyes down, I ignore the curious eyes on me. I’ve encountered all three of the solar system at various times, and none of them have done more than acknowledge me. When Tim enters, his eyes widen at the sight of me, yet he says nothing. My palms are beginning to sweat. Rebecca enters, and her eyes run over me with disdain.

Heat hits me, sending the hairs on the back of my neck up. I fight not to visibly shiver. Without thought, I look up and right into fierce, unfathomable black eyes. Ivan Volkov steps to the head of the table.

“You are?” Gravel hits me.

Holy fucking shit. He’s not even close to me, at least twenty feet away, yet I’m caught in a lethal gravitational pull. I couldn’t look away if I wanted to. I now understand the solar system.

It isn’t fair, he’s all angles and blunt lines, his nose is too big, his brow too heavy, there’s a jagged two-inch scar on his right cheek. Yet he’s the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my life.

Beautiful? What? I cannot take my eyes off his wide, sensually thick lips. I wonder what they would feel like against mine. Stop it, you freak.

Dropping my eyes doesn’t help, he’s so big he’s all I see. He is sheathed in a charcoal gray silk suit that without a doubt is cut to fit him, as there is no way in hell his dimensions would ever be off the shelf. Ivan Volkov is massive, at least six four. His chest is wide and even through the silk shirt and jacket, every time he breathes a wall of muscle ripples impressively. A different kind of heat is settling low, where no matter how much I wanted it to, it has never been before. The sensation shocks me out of my stupor.

I raise my chin. “Christina Connolly, Simon’s assistant. He has been involved in an accident and won’t be in. I’m here to submit a proposal on his behalf.”

The tiniest movement of an eyebrow is there and gone. His face doesn’t change, there is no frown, no smile, only the slightest of nods. “In that case, you are up first.”

His voice cannot be real; it’s as if he smoked a thousand cigarettes, gargled with rocks. Deep, dark smoke wraps around me. Topping off all of that, he has an English accent which I swear I never thought was sexy, but now I’m made very aware I was wrong. Oh god, please don’t let the small shiver running up my spine be visible.

“Thank you, sir.” I pass copies of the proposal to Martin to pass up to Volkov and the solar system, as I wonder vaguely where Connor is.

“The company I’m presenting is Hungry Harvest. This is a vegan food delivery service. Their options are wide-ranging. Not just pre-packaged and prepared items such as snacks, soups, and full meals, they also have a ready-to-prepare option with the ingredients and step-by-step recipes. Any number of these options are available for purchase weekly.

“This company is comprised of a family of farmers. They are uniquely positioned due to the relationship they’ve formed with other farmers, as well as small artisan food companies. It’s only been in operation for a little over thirteen months, and subscriptions have increased month after month.”

I don’t dare look up. His eyes are on me, I can feel them as heavy as a touch. My skin is hot and tight. The overload to my senses makes it hard to focus. If it weren’t for the fact I have the entire thing memorized, I’m positive I would be stumbling over myself.

“There is an issue though, which is where we come in. They have gotten too big too fast. They don’t have the money to expand to meet increased demand, causing anger among subscribers. With an injection of capital, of at least sixty thousand as well as diversifying their supply chain, we can be in place to recoup our investment four-fold in less than six months.”

“Another food subscription box, wait, are these numbers real?” Rebecca demands.

Her tone has me fighting back a snarky answer. I inhale slowly. “Yes, triple checked as of Friday. Their growth is almost entirely organic, they are not marketing savvy. There are a number of influencers who have touted them. They didn’t pay the influencers, simply sent them one box of their choice. From there they didn’t even give the influencers discounts, but the influencers are still buying them and plugging them.

“They played around with some small social media ads, spending less than ten thousand in the first six months. The composition of the company is a family of five who received their initial seed from an inheritance, and investment from one family friend. There is only one degree among them and it’s in literature. The whole thing was made up as they went along and it’s catching up with them. They have the right idea, they even are good for execution, but they are weak in structure, which is where we come in.”

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