Page 34 of Resisting the Billionaire

I mean, it’s not him I’m in love with, just the gesture.

Obviously.

“I’ll be fine.” And if business keeps picking up, I really will be. I already had two people walk in off the street yesterday after seeing the new decal on the window. Why hadn’t I thought of putting something like that up before? Plus, the paycheck from Mr. Bishop will wipe out all my old debts. I’ll be free to start fresh.

“I just… want to help you. You deserve it,” he says quietly, his words reminding me anew of his request the other day asking me to let him help.

I impulsively lean into him, reaching up to hug his broad shoulders. “Thank you.”

After an initial moment of surprise, he returns the embrace, his arms wrapping around my lower back. This close, his cologne smells even more intoxicating, the fabric of his shirt soft against my cheek. I settle in, secure against him, and shut my eyes, weak in the face of such warmth. When was the last time a guy really hugged me? And has it ever felt so… amazing?

I step away, tilting my head down so he can’t see the heat beginning to lick my cheeks, discomfited by the direction of my thoughts. “Bye, Gabriel.”

I barely give him a chance to respond before I open my door and hurry inside, my stomach fluttering. What does it mean that all I can think about is when I’ll see him next?

No, it’s fine. Gabriel could introduce me to new industry contacts, new customers. Wealthy ones with money to burn. I’m just… cultivating a connection. Building a relationship with my client. Aprofessionalone. Not anything more.

It can’t be anything more.

“Ah,and this is the bride. Gorgeous,” Louise beams, immediately enamored with Serena.

The two of us walk into Bewitching Bridal a couple days after my visit here with Gabriel, the only day I could get her to commit to picking out a dress.

I don’t normally go shopping with the brides I work with, who generally prefer their family and friends to join them, but I have a gut feeling she wouldn’t pick one out if I didn’t drag her here. And from what it sounds like, she doesn’t have many close friends or family other than her father.

“Your bone structure,” Louise continues, studying her. “It’s unmatched. We’d love to feature you on our social media if you buy a dress from us.”

She shrugs one shoulder uncomfortably, walking past to examine a display rack.

“They’ll make beautiful babies,” Louise comments, making my stomach turn.

It’s true, though. They will.

I stride over to where a trio of dresses hang that I asked Louise to pull beforehand and steer Serena over to a bridal dressing room, passing by a three paneled mirror and pedestal intended for everyone to ooh and ahh at the bride.

“I hope you don’t mind that I preselected a few choices for you to get the ball rolling. You never mentioned any specific design preferences, so I chose an A-line, ball gown, and sheath.” I hang the dresses next to her, each one beautiful, intricately decadent, and with a price tag to match. “Honestly, you’d look great in any of them. Your figure is flattering to any style.”

“Thank you,” she replies routinely, as if compliments mean nothing to her.

Right.

“Do you like any of them?”

“Sure.” She grabs the one closest to her, wrinkling the material enough that my fingers twitch, itching for her to show some respect to that dress. It costs more than I normally make in months of work.

“We could always have something custom designed too.” There’s plenty of money in the budget to blow on a rush job like that.

“No, this is fine.”

She steps into the dressing room and I follow, helping her into the ball gown she picked, the metallic beading along the bodice making the dress appear to sparkle as she moves under the light. “I thought the silver would go nicely with your color scheme.”

She nods and walks back out to the pedestal, gazing at herself in the mirror as I lace up the corset, a wrinkle forming between her fair brows.

“That post of you and Gabriel at the wedding venue got a lot of traction. You two look… good together.” I ignore that churning in my stomach, finishing up the laces before spreading the tulle and lace out around her so she looks like a fairytale princess.

“Thank you,” she says again, the sound devoid of any emotion.

I’ve had Bridezillas before, but this is almost worse - this apathy. How can she not care this much? Gabriel is a catch. Gorgeous, charming, kind, not to mention loaded - what else could she want?

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