Billionaire, Boss...Bridegroom?. Kate Hardy

they need to do to make it a hit without losing their original voice. I’ve never wanted to do anything else but produce music that I love—music that makes the world a better place. But my family worries about me, because the music business isn’t exactly stable. Insurgo’s doing well—well enough for some much bigger labels to have offered to buy me out, though I’ve always refused because I’m not going to sell out my artists like that—but I’m still at the mercy of the markets. We’ve managed to weather a few storms, but all it takes is one wrong decision that loses the business a lot of money, or for a couple of my biggest customers to go bankrupt and not pay me, and we could go under.’

      ‘Tell me about it,’ she said feelingly.

      ‘I knew you’d get that bit. You’ve been there,’ he said.

      So either Tarquin had told him that she’d once had her own business, or he’d read her résumé. Or maybe both. ‘Small businesses fail all the time,’ she said, ‘and I kept mine going for two years. If my best client hadn’t gone bankrupt, owing me the equivalent of three months’ salary, I’d still be a freelance designer now. But when one door closes another opens—and now I have a job I like here.’

      ‘I take it back about being Mary Poppins,’ he said. ‘You’re Pollyanna.’

      ‘I’m just me,’ she told him firmly, ‘not a stereotype. But, yes, I believe in looking for the good in life.’ She whistled the chorus from ‘Always Look on the Bright Side of Life’ and smiled.

      ‘It’s a good philosophy,’ he said.

      ‘You’re right—you’re perfectly capable of being a stockbroker, but it’d make you miserable. You’re doing what you love,’ she said. ‘And there’s nothing wrong with that. Why doesn’t your family see that?’

      He sighed. ‘They have this little box ready for me. I’m supposed to fit in with a sensible job, a sensible wife, and two point four children or whatever it’s meant to be nowadays. A pied-à-terre in London for me during the week, and an ancient pile in the countryside for the family, where the kids can grow up until we send them to boarding school.’

      Was he describing what his own childhood had been like? ‘I guess I’m lucky,’ she said. ‘All my parents and my sister want is for me to be happy and fulfilled.’

      ‘Are you?’ he asked.

      She nodded. ‘Are you?’

      ‘Yes.’ But she noticed that he didn’t meet her eye. So did that mean he wasn’t? And what, she wondered, was missing from his life?

      Not that there was any point in asking. She was pretty sure he’d stonewall her. Getting the information so far had been like pulling teeth.

      ‘OK. So you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend, to show your family that you have no intention of meeting any of the criteria to fit that little box they’ve made for you. You already have a job they don’t approve of, so what you need is an outrageous girlfriend to horrify them even more. That will be the icing on the cake, if you’ll excuse me mixing my metaphors,’ she said, hoping that she’d summed up the situation without missing anything.

      ‘That’s pretty much it.’ He paused. ‘So will you do it?’