Billionaires in New York Boxed Set: Billionaires in the City Books 1-3 by Laura Burton (learn to read books .TXT) 📕

“Body type? Height? Eye color? Any preference at all?” David’s face grew crimson at the question. Is he blushing? This is too adorable. Half of the women in New York would eat him up! Emily surveyed his expression and leaned forward.

“Can I ask a personal question?” she murmured. David glanced back at the two bodyguards and nodded to them. Slowly they vacated the room, leaving the two of them alone for the first time.

“Have you ever had a girlfriend?” Emily asked seriously. David blinked at her for a moment.

“Would it make me sound like a loser, if I said no?”

“Never?” Emily whistled. “And you want a wife? In thirty days… can I ask why?”

“Look, it’s not easy to get dates when you’re in my position.” David folded his arms.

“Oh, I understand. It’s painfully hard to find anyone who would be willing to date a drop-dead-gorgeous businessman who has his own bodyguards.”

David laughed. Emily smiled back at him.

“Yes, well that’s why I need you.”

“I’m more than happy to help, but what’s with the time limit? You’re not dying, are you?”

“Wow, you really like to pry.”

“It’s my job to know these things,” Emily said simply. David sighed heavily and sat back down on the couch while Emily rested her hands on her hips and leaned against her desk.

“My grandmother is dying.”

Emily’s hands fell to her sides and she frowned at him.

“Ah, I’m sorry.”

“She holds the majority of the shares in the Marks business, and she won’t pass them onto me until she’s met my wife.”

“But you don’t have a wife,” Emily said quickly.

David grimaced.

“I told my grandmother I eloped a couple of years ago, when she was asking questions.”

“Why? And anyway, that sort of information about someone like you, doesn’t just stay quiet. It would be in the news, surely. How did you convince your family you were secretly married?”

David got up and walked across the room to look at the photographs hanging on the wall.

“My grandmother is having a birthday party, all the family are expected to attend.” David turned around and looked pointedly at Emily. “Including, my wife,” he added.

“Fake matchmaking isn’t my forte, you know.” Emily cocked her brow as she strolled across the room to him. David raised his hands.

“I know,” he said defensively. “I thought you could help me find… the one.”

Emily sucked in her cheeks and looked wildly around the room.

“So, you want a smart, opinionated woman to marry you in the next thirty days… oh and you want her to be ‘the one’?”

David inclined his head. Emily resisted the urge to roll her eyes and laugh.

“Why don’t you just hire a woman to pretend to be your wife?” Pick me! she silently added, realizing that this could be the perfect scenario for her investors.

“Like I said, I’m looking for more than just a fake wife,” David countered. Emily smiled; she liked the sound of that.

“There we go, so we do have a romantic side.” She wrote notes down in her book and looked up at him. “Right, I think I have enough to go on here, are you free tonight?”

“You’ll have a date set up that quickly?” David seemed surprised. Emily placed her hands on her hips and puffed out her chest.

“I’m Emily Stewart. I can have three dates lined up for you within forty-eight hours.”

“Well, yes, in that case. I’ll make arrangements to stay in town.” David clapped his hands together.

“Quick question: Are you allergic to sushi?”

“Er, no.”

“Okay, good. Your first date will be at a sushi bar, and don’t worry. I’ll keep it nice and discreet. We’ll hire out a room in the back, and I’m sure your two pals behind that door will figure out a way to get you there without being seen.” Emily sashayed her hips as she walked around her desk and put her notebook down.

“If you leave your contact details with my assistant in the reception, I’ll leave you a message when I have some news. Oh, and I assume Jaqueline has passed my pricing list to you?”

“No, she hasn’t.”

“I’ll have her send that on as well, then.” Emily held out her hand for David to shake. He took it and the two of them grinned at each other.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, David. I look forward to finding you the perfect wife.”

The metal heels of Emily’s Jimmy Choo’s clicked along the ground as she strutted through the subway station. Crowds of commuters stood around waiting, and the stench of old cigarette smoke clung to the walls like tar. It nearly shielded the overwhelming smell of body odor; nevertheless, Emily had become immune to the offensive aromas in the subway. Getting around in New York took hours, not minutes—no matter which method of transport Emily chose. But she preferred to walk or take the subway rather than sit in traffic watching the taxi meter ticking. Like clockwork, Emily picked up her copy of the new Estelle fashion magazine and a giant hot pretzel from the stands outside the station. She scanned her MetroCard and walked through the barriers absentmindedly as she took a bite of her pretzel and flipped through the pages of her magazine. She grabbed the last seat on the train and avoided eye contact, happily thumbing through the fashion pages.

A couple of African American teenage boys stood by the doors listening to music as they bobbed their heads and made hand signals to each other. A large balding woman swayed side to side as her eyes rolled back in their sockets and she moaned. Not that Emily noticed, of course.

Emily rented out a small apartment downtown, and even though it was only a few stops away, the commute could easily take an hour during commuter times. After nine years, eight months, and sixteen days of doing the journey, Emily was now accustomed to it. She was no longer surprised by the characters she came across; in fact, everyone around her had become