Page 94 of Scarlett and the Big Bad Billionaire
It felt more like an Amazon warehouse than a house. Several times a day, deliveries arrived.
“Victoria’s been doing a little online shopping, I guess,” he said.
“A little? It looks like she’s buying out the entire inventory of every bridal shop on the East Coast. She’s spending a fortune.”
“Shehasa fortune to spend,” Gray pointed out. “It’s her money. She’s having fun.”
“Well, make sure to save the receipts for when all this stuff has to go back. And take pictures of everything will you, so we don’t lose track?”
“I can’t find my phone,” he said.
“What?”
“My phone. I’m not sure where it is—I haven’t seen it since the morning Vivi was admitted.”
“Did you check your car?”
He turned to me with aduhexpression.
“Well, it must be around here somewhere—or maybe it’s in her hospital room,” I said. “One thing’s for sure—Vivi hasherphone, and she’s getting excellent reception.”
I spun in a circle, looking at the sea of boxes.
“I don’t even know why she’s ordering things already. I told her the ‘wedding’ would have to be at least a year from now.”
“I guess she’s just excited. And maybe she’s not sure what things will look like a year from now—none of us do,” Gray said.
“I do. I’ll be back in Minnesota, working at Mixitall, sharing an apartment with Julianna.”
For some reason that mental picture produced an almost violent sense of aversion.
Stepping up close to me, Gray put his hands on my hips and lowered his head. “If that’s the case, I know whatI’llbe doing—missing you terribly. Try not to worry so much, Red. Try to relax. Want to take a break and go for a swim with me?”
“No,” I yelped, leaping back from him.
Swimming plus Gray equaled guaranteed sexy times, and I couldnotallow myself to indulge in any more of those with him. Not now that we were “engaged.”
It would only add another layer of confusion on top of what was already a tangled mess of crossed wires and emotions.
“I told you it’s over,” I said. “Just because we’re engaged, that doesn’t mean we’re going to have a fling.”
He pressed his lips together and blew out a short breath through his nose, clearly trying not to laugh at the absurdity of my statement.
Apparently he lost the battle. Throwing his head back, he laughed out loud then leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees with his head hanging down, overcome with hilarity.
I started laughing, too, suddenly unable to contain a flood of giggles.
It was just all so ridiculous—the two of us standing in a massive ballroom, surrounded by boxes, arguing over the rulebook of our fake engagement.
When I thought of it, I couldn’t deny that it was funny.
And then the RSVP’s started coming.
I walked into the mansion’s kitchen that evening, holding a large stack I’d just retrieved from the mailbox.
Gray stood at the kitchen island where he’d just set down a white handled paper bag. He pulled out the takeout containers one by one as I used Vivi’s silver letter opener to slit the top of one of the identical envelopes.
“You are not going to believe this,” I said, reading the card.
