Page 44 of Marrying a Billionaire

Lillian’s heart picked up speed as she imagined what Reed would do if he saw her in this. Emotions raced through her that she was not ready for. Stuffing the lingerie back into the bag, she set it on the vanity—as far away from her as possible. There was no way she could wear that. Not with the way she was feeling.

There was a knock followed by muffled voices that carried from the bedroom. Lillian dressed in her own undergarments and turned to the dress hanging on the back of the door. She flipped it around so the back faced her and she unzipped it. Shaking it out, she slipped into it and pulled it up.

Once her arms were through the sleeves, she turned and caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror. Her breath caught in her throat as inspected her reflection. It was a mermaid-cut dress completely covered in lace. The heart-shaped neckline could be seen underneath the lace that covered her shoulders and made tiny capped sleeves. It had an elegant and classy look to it.

Just her style. Cassie had done an amazing job.

She pulled the zipper up as high as she could and then turned to the door. Just as she twisted the handle, a knock sounded.

“Lil, are you okay?” Tamara asked.

Relief flooded Lillian’s chest. Her best friend was here. She pulled open the door and wrapped her up into a hug. It felt so good to see someone she knew.

Tamara let out a whoosh of air when Lillian’s squeezed her.

“Wow,” Tamara said, pulling back and looking over at Lillian. “You’re never been this excited to see me.” She smiled at Lillian. “You look amazing,” she said, stepping back and inspecting her.

“Thanks,” Lillian said.

Cassie approached from behind and slid the zipper up the rest of the way. “You’re going to knock Reed’s socks off,” she said, wrapping her arm around Lillian’s shoulders.

That was the last thing she wanted to do. Maybe she should go back into the bathroom and refuse to leave until they had a black garbage bag for her to wear. But the Reed’s disappointed expression entered her mind. No matter how scared she was about any of this, she couldn’t let him down. Not after all he’d done for her.

So she smiled over at Cassie and Tamara. “Where are my shoes?”

* * *

Reed stood in one of his grandfather’s guest’s room, feeding his cufflinks into his shirt. He was standing in front of the mirror, but he wasn’t looking at anything in particular. Instead, his thoughts kept returning to Lillian. How close they’d gotten just to have her pull back.

Was he being a fool? Did she really not care about him? There were moments when he thought that perhaps, she felt something, too. But then those moments would only last for a few fleeting seconds before she’d throw up a wall and push him away.

It was all so confusing. Especially, when all he wanted to do was take her into his arms and make her his.

“Nervous?” Johnson, his business partner and best man, asked. He was sitting on the bed, rolling a lint brush against his tux.

Reed glanced at him through the mirror and then back at his own reflection. Why wasn’t he nervous? He knew he should be, but he wasn’t. He had begun to care for Lillian, and if marrying her meant he could spend more time with her, then so be it. He was ready for this. More ready then he’d ever felt about anything else in his life.

“Naw,” he said, grabbing the other cufflink and threading it through. “I’ve got this.”

Johnson nodded as he stood and walked over to the dresser on the far wall. A chime sounded on a phone, but it didn’t sound like his ringtone so Reed paid it no mind. His thoughts were plagued with Lillian. Not much else held his thoughts.

Johnson picked up his phone and studied it. A few seconds later, a newscaster’s voice filled the room.

“That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, I have it on good authority that tonight, Mr. Reed Williamson—Mr. Billionaire Bachelor himself—is getting hitched!”

A cheer rose up.

Reed’s stomach dropped. He zeroed in on Johnson’s phone, reaching out to take it. A woman with a blonde bob was standing in front of a huge crowd just outside of his building. Lights were directed at the front doors where Harold was trying desperately to get them to leave. His bald head was sweating as he waved like a wile man at the cameras.

The reporter took no note of his desperation, instead, approached him and shoved the microphone into his face. “Is Reed here?” she asked, turning to smile back at the camera.

“You must leave. This is private property,” Harold huffed out. He mustered an intimidating look, but the reporter didn’t seem fazed.

“Are you saying that Reed Williamson is not home right now.”

Harold’s face flushed red as he sputtered a few times.

“If he is not here, where is Mr. Williamson?” She turned to the audience who all booed and made sad faces. There were a few muffled sentences before the woman shot her bright white smile back at the camera. “The Williamson estate,” she exclaimed, and the video feed went black.

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