Page 76 of Marrying the Billionaire

I sigh as I press the return call button, hoping it’s a simple conversation.

“Serena, sweetheart,” he answers, all friendliness. He must want me to cooperate with something then. “How’s married life treating you?”

What’s he talking about? He knows it’s not a real marriage. “Well, a pipe busted in Archer’s apartment, and now my bedroom is unusable.”

“Good, good,” he says, his voice distracted, obviously not listening to a thing I’m saying. “Listen, I got word from some people here that Archer stopped by yesterday and paid a visit. You know anything about that?”

What? “Your work or your house?”

“Work. He had a meeting with my senior accountant, but didn’t bother to tell me about it. Why?”

“I don’t know. We don’t talk about his work.”

“You can’t think of a reason?” he snaps. His patience must be thin today.

Archer questioned my father’s money problems to me last week, not that I had an answer for him. But if I bring that up to Dad, it’ll only make him angry.

“No. I can’t.” My loyalty to him has been fading for a while now, ever since he denied my pleading with him to call off the wedding to Gabriel. Throwing me out of my apartment and withdrawing the shelter’s funding sealed the deal.

He wanted to pawn me off on the Bishops? Well, that means I’m not under his thumb anymore.

“Let me know if you find out anything.”

Yeah, I’ll get right on that.

He hangs up without saying goodbye in his typical fashion, but I’m not letting it bother me. I did my part in marrying into the Bishop family like he wanted. But from what I can see, he miscalculated the value of the connections he’d gain. Archer isn’t a fan.

My phone buzzes again, but thankfully it’s not Dad.

“Archer, hi.” I smile just remembering this morning, how close I’d felt to him, the lingering kiss he’d given me as he’d grabbed his breakfast to go from Lori and headed out the door.

“Hey, are you free for lunch?”

“Yeah, of course.” I’d normally do a little happy dance if he asked me out, but something about his tone seems off. “Is everything okay?”

He’s silent for a moment. “How’d you know?”

“Your voice. You only sound like that when you’re stressed.” Oh, crap. I shouldn’t have told him that. I’m basically admitting the stalker-like level of attention I’ve been paying him.

He sighs. “Work’s been rough today. I need to get out of here for a bit. And I want to talk to you about a few things. Can I send James over to pick you up in about half an hour?”

“Yeah.” A nervous bubble forms in my belly. What does he want to talk about? He’s never asked to randomly meet in the middle of the day for something like this.

We hang up, but I’m hardly able to focus on continuing my grant research for the next thirty minutes until his driver arrives.

I stare out the window of the town car silently as I travel uptown, picking at my nails and looping a loose thread from the hem of my dress around my finger until we pull up in front of Capital West. I’ve never been to this restaurant, but it certainly seems nice as I walk in, the dim lighting and dark furniture whispering of luxury.

The hostess greets me, her black uniform impeccable, asking, “Do you have a reservation?”

“I’m meeting my husband, Archer Bishop.”

Her eyes widen momentarily. “Oh, Mrs. Bishop. If you’ll just follow me.”

She leads me to a door markedPrivate Diningalong the back wall and opens it for me, ushering me inside. Archer stands from his seat at the head of a long table and walks over to join me, laying a light kiss on my lips. Once the hostess leaves, he guides me over to the table, holding out the chair next to him for me to sit in.

“I’m surprised you booked a private room,” I say as I arrange the bottom of my dress out around my lap. “Don’t we want people to see us?”

“Actually, that’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about.” He takes his seat, a serious expression on his face. Right. Like I could forget about that. I just pray it’s not awe need to talkkind of situation.

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