Page 140 of My Big, Fat, Fake Billionaire Wedding

I take a long drink of champagne, the victory of the day feeling suddenly hollow. I’ve won the battle against Blackwell only to lose the war against my own demons.

“To successful conclusions,” I say, raising my glass again, hating myself for the lie.

46

Ava

The champagne bubbles tickle my nose as I take another sip. I never thought I’d like a place like Daniel, one of those restaurants so fancy they don’t even bother putting prices on the menu.

Pretty sure I saw one waiter physically recoil when someone at the next table asked for ketchup.

But somehow, I’m having the time of my life. I guess I’m still riding the high of the boardroom victory earlier today.

“To successful conclusions,” Gideon says, raising his glass.

Something in his tone makes the victory champagne lose its sparkle. Successful conclusions. Right. The tidy, contractual end of our relationship, twenty-three days from now. The same relationship that’s become anything but tidy in my heart.

“To success,” I echo, forcing brightness into my voice while my stomach knots itself into a pretzel.

When Gideon had started to say “When this is over...” I’d felt my heart climb up into my throat,foolishly hoping he might suggest extending our arrangement. Instead, he’d just wished me success with my gallery. Because of course that’s what he meant. What else would he possibly want from me once he’s secured his company?

Nothing says romantic evening like discussing the expiration date on your fake marriage. Maybe we should’ve ordered the soufflé with “It’s Been Real” written in chocolate sauce.

“You’re still thinking about the board meeting, aren’t you?” Gideon asks, watching me over the rim of his glass, his gray eyes reflecting the candlelight.

“Hard not to,” I answer. “Especially the look on Blackwell’s face when Margaret Chen switched sides. I thought his head might actually explode.”

Gideon’s laugh is genuine, vibrating through the air between us. “I’ve never seen the old bastard so red!”

I grin despite myself. “It’s nice not being the only lobster in the room for once.”

He smiles widely.

These are the moments I’ll miss most. The conspiratorial laughter, the shared triumph, the feeling that we’re partners in something real.

Stop it, Ava. Remember who you’re dealing with.

“Ava King. I thought that was you.”

A voice like honey drizzled over broken glass interrupts my spiral of self-pity. I look up to find Vanessa Clarke standing by our table, wearing a dark red dress that is surprisingly demure tonight, her tits from hell safely tucked away.

“Vanessa.” Gideon’s voice drops dangerously.

“I’m having dinner with the Harrismans,” she says, gesturing vaguely toward the other side of the restaurant. “I couldn’t possibly walk past withoutcongratulating you both. The board meeting victory is all over the financial grapevine.”

Financial grapevine? Is that a thing? Or just something rich people made up to sound important while gossiping?

“Thank you,” I say, trying to match her polished tone while knowing I probably sound like a kindergartner attempting Shakespeare. “It was a team effort.”

“So modest.” Vanessa’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “Gideon must be thrilled to have found such a... supportive partner.”

The way she says “supportive” makes it sound like I’m a particularly sturdy piece of furniture rather than a person.

“If you’ll excuse us, Vanessa,” Gideon says firmly. “We’re celebrating privately.”

“Of course,” she purrs. “Enjoy your evening. Oh, and Ava? The ladies’ room here has the most divine hand lotion. You simply must try it.”

With that bizarre parting comment, she saunters back to her table, leaving behind a cloud of expensive perfume and judgment.

---