Contract Marriage With My Billionaire Boss (Venus and Aaron) novel Chapter 16

**The Long Didn’t Say by Mark Twain**

**Chapter 16**

**VENUS**

I dabbed my mouth delicately with the napkin, a small gesture of decorum before I plunged into conversation. What did it matter if my pockets were empty? I still possessed the grace of table manners. So, if you’re scrutinizing me, take your judgment elsewhere.

Somewhere along the drive to this lavish restaurant and the brief walk to our table, I made a silent vow not to let Mr. Sinclair intimidate me any longer. Well, let’s be honest—he still had that effect on me, but it was less overwhelming now. I found myself speaking to him with a newfound ease, aided by the ridiculously overpriced wine that flowed freely. Lightweight, remember? I couldn’t handle too much of it without feeling the effects.

“We usually work late into the night, right? So, there was this one night we were stuck on a project together, and surprisingly, we found ourselves getting along. Ever since then, things have been a bit more relaxed… that is, until you caught feelings and—”

“I caught feelings first?” he interrupted, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

I shot him a look that could have pierced through steel. If you dare to interrupt me again, I’ll wield this butter knife like a weapon. “I’m trying to help you sell our fake relationship, Mr. Sinclair,” I said, my tone dripping with mock seriousness.

He leaned back slightly, a smirk dancing across his lips. “You’ll blow our cover if you keep calling me Mr. Sinclair. Just Aaron will do.”

I nodded, conceding the point. “Right. So you caught feelings, kissed me, and eventually, I caught feelings too. But we had to maintain the facade of disliking each other to keep prying eyes away from our business.” I shrugged, taking another bite of my food. “Simple enough.”

“That’ll work,” he replied, nodding as if he were making mental notes. “We need to know the basics about each other to sell this act convincingly.”

I raised an eyebrow, skepticism creeping in. There was no way in the world he hadn’t already conducted an exhaustive background check on me. Still, I played along.

“I’ll go first…” I took a sip of the extravagant wine, feeling the warmth spread through me. Aaron—yes, Aaron—refilled my glass with a flourish. If a single glass cost two grand, the price of the entire bottle was enough to make me faint just thinking about it.

“I was born right here in New York,” I began, watching as his brow lifted slightly in interest. “I attended the City University of New York on a scholarship.” One of the few things keeping me afloat amidst a sea of student debt. “I have an accounting degree. Graduated just last year.”

“You have an accounting degree? That’s impressive. What made you settle for a PA position?” he asked, genuine curiosity lacing his tone.

“The money, of course. The salary was decent, and if you haven’t noticed, it’s tough to find jobs around here.” Not that he would know—he was the one running a successful company. “Oh, and just so you know, I’m only twenty-two.”

The evening continued, a gentle exchange of details about our lives. When it was his turn, he simply said, “Ask me what you want to know.” Really? That was all he was offering?

“He’s remarried now. Two children,” he added, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.

As the waitstaff came to clear our plates, Aaron settled the bill with a practiced ease. The evening wound down, and I was embarrassingly tipsy, struggling to maintain my balance as we stepped outside. Aaron noticed my unsteadiness and offered his support, guiding me as we waited for the valet to bring the car around. I leaned into him, grateful for his steady presence.

The chill in the air nipped at my skin, causing me to shiver slightly. The dress I wore had thin straps, offering little warmth. Just then, something warm draped over my shoulders, enveloped in the scent of his expensive cologne.

Aaron had given me his suit jacket.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, looking up at him, my heart fluttering unexpectedly. He nodded, and I couldn’t help but notice that despite my height, he towered over me. My earlier estimation of six-foot-two might have been an understatement.

“How tall are you?” I asked, my tipsy curiosity spilling over.

“Six-four,” he replied, guiding me towards the car as the valet finally arrived.

Perhaps it was the wine clouding my judgment, but I could have sworn I saw camera flashes capturing our moment before the car door swung shut behind me.