Page 14 of Marrying the Billionaire

Serena

My bedroom is almost eerily silent as I wake, the usual noise of distant traffic absent. This high on the fiftieth floor, the sounds of New York in all its glory can’t reach us.

I spend extra time in the en-suite bathroom fussing with my hair and applying makeup, wanting to look my best for Archer, but he’s nowhere to be found as I walk through the common areas of the apartment, a stillness in the air implying I’m the only one home.

I sigh, flopping down on the couch, and sink into the leather cushions, propping my feet on the coffee table. He holed up in his office the rest of the night doing God knows what, our meeting about rules and expectations thankfully delayed, but at least I got all my things unpacked and put away.

I scramble to get my feet off the furniture as the front door unlocks, and spread the bottom of my pink floral dress out around me, one of the few good ones I still own.

But it’s not my husband that walks through the door.

It’s a woman.

Archer never mentioned a woman.

“You must be Serena,” she smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Look at you, you’re beautiful.”

On second glance, it appears she’s in her late forties, a few strands of gray at her temples, but her figure is trim, energy radiating off of her.

“Oh, let me wash my hands. I just took the trash out.”

She heads to the kitchen and I follow her hesitantly, fairly sure she’s not an intruder since she’s familiar with where everything is.

And knows my name.

“I’m Lori,” she smiles again, drying her hands on the dish cloth hanging on the stove handle. “Archer’s housekeeper.” I shake the hand she holds out, her nails clipped short and unpolished, her friendliness instantly putting me at ease. I’ve been so tense over the last month dreading the wedding, it’s nice to finally relax.

“Well,” she continues, “I’m part chef, part maid, and sometimes part emergency personal assistant when he needs it. I basically make sure his life runs smoothly at home.”

Wait, did she say chef? “Did you make that hummus in the fridge? I nearly devoured that whole container.”

“I did,” she beams. “I whip a batch up every week. I’ve been trying to convince Archer to let me add in some new flavors. Roasted red pepper, smoky chipotle, jalapeno. But no. I swear, sometimes he has the tastebuds of a five year old.”

My eyes widen, my lips tipping up at the corners on their own.

“Now if you wanted me to make some special kind for you…”

“Yes, of course. I’d love that.”

She grins. “Oh, I think we’re going to be friends.” She pulls a magnetized notepad off the fridge and fishes in a drawer for a pen. “Let me know some of your favorite meals, allergies, likes and dislikes, things like that. I’ll make it happen.”

“Well, I’m vegetarian.” I internally cringe remembering Mackenzie and Gabriel getting mad at me after failing to mention it during the wedding planning.

“Good to know.”

“And sometimes the smell of cooked pork makes me nauseous. I got food poisoning from it once when I was younger-”

“Not a problem,” she says easily. “Turkey bacon is healthier for Archer anyway.”

I hide a smile behind my hand, wondering what he’d say if he knew she was talking about him like this. “Where is he?”

“He leaves for work around seven-thirty.” Oh, I definitely missed him then. I need to wake earlier if I want to see him in the morning. “He told me about your arrangement, by the way. So you don’t have to pretend anything in front of me.”

Great. One more excuse to stay apart.

She cocks her head at me. “I thought you’d be happy about that.”

I wipe clear my expression. I’ve never been good at hiding reactions. I think the only reason I got it past Archer Saturday night was because he was paying more attention to his phone than me.

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