Page 27 of Resisting the Billionaire

“He said you guys were friends,” she says, tracking my movements as I grab everything I’ll need and stuff it in my tote bag. It takes me a few moments of searching to remember Gabriel has my planner. I should never have agreed to let him help me. I wasn’t in my right state of mind. Who knows what he’s done.

“I mean, we are, I guess. But he’s still my biggest client. Or his dad is. I don’t know. It’s confusing.” I slip on the stilettos I dropped by the couch earlier and stuff an extra tissue box in my bag, knowing I’m nearly out of them in my office. “Are you taking the subway or do you want to split a cab?”

“Gabriel’s town car is downstairs.” Wow, he let her use that? “Are you sure you’re okay to go back to work?” she asks, concern in her eyes. “You don’t seem fully recovered.”

“I’m fine,” I promise her, opening the front door and motioning for her to follow me.

I lean heavily on the handrail down the seven flights of stairs, skipping the sticky spots when possible, and breathe a sigh of relief that I at least don’t have to hoof the two blocks to the subway station.

My hands twist in my lap as the driver moves slow as molasses through traffic to the flower shop, only remembering five minutes away my face desperately needs makeup. I do not want to be compared to death warmed over again, no matter how rightly deserved it was. Diana holds my compact for me as I brush on mascara and under eye concealer, forgoing my normal pink lipstick for a swipe of chapstick.

I burst through the door, half expecting it to be on fire inside, but Gabriel’s merely standing behind the register, a wide smile forming on his face as he sees me.

The smile stops, though, as he registers my expression. “What is it?”

“What is it?” I repeat. “I heard you’ve taken over my business.”

He makes a scoffing noise, dismissing my concern. “Here,” he says, stepping out to approach me. “Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close them. I want it to be a surprise.”

He stands in front of me, blocking my view of my office as an impish grin flirts along his lips, making my stomach flip.

Oh God, what did he do?

“No peeking.”

I shut my eyes, unsure what exactly I’m stepping into, but I let him guide me, his fingers warm on my forearms as he leads me forward.

“All right, what do you think?” He steps away, revealing a brand new space.

I gaze around in astonishment, my hands automatically coming up to cover my mouth.

The most noticeable thing is that my huge, clunky desk is gone, replaced with a smaller white one that’s somehow both professional and feminine in feel with a matching stylish leather chair behind it. The effect is gorgeous paired with newly painted soft pink walls and a plush pastel rug underneath.

Absent too are the table and chairs I rarely used by the window, a low white filing cabinet in its place, along with a bookcase against the wall showcasing the different pre-designed wedding packages I offer in clear sign holders.

A few of those cute terrariums Diana has for sale are artfully placed on the bookshelves, complemented by hanging baskets of petunias in two corners of the room and a vase of fresh-cut gardenias on my desk.

The total effect is bright and airy, both modern and elegant.

“It’s perfect,” I whisper, hardly able to believe he could transform my office this much in one day. Who knew it could be so functional, so beautiful, so… me?

“I put all your old furniture in storage in case you still want it,” he says, “but I figured this would work better for the space you have now.”

I couldn’t care less about that other stuff after seeing this setup. “I…” I spot new details, like how those awful crooked blinds have been exchanged for gauzy curtains, pulled back to reveal a decal on the outside window with my logo and phone number, and gorgeous club accent chairs in a pink paisley pattern now sit on the other side of the desk for guests.

Why would he go to all this trouble for me?

“Gabriel, I can’t accept this.”

“Why?”

Is he serious? “It’s too much.” I gesture around me to encompass all the new furnishings, wishing beyond hope I could actually keep it all. I’m in love with everything. “This is too generous.”

“It’s nothing,” he brushes off. “Besides, it’s selfish on my part. Once word gets out that you’remywedding planner, your office will need to look up to snuff,” he grins.

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