Page 98 of Scarlett and the Big Bad Billionaire
“By all means,” Scarlett said.
I pushed her chair out into the middle of the floor, and Victoria danced while sitting, wiggling her hips and shaking her arms above her head, laughing loudly.
She’d certainly made a full recovery.
She seemedsohealthy, in fact, I started getting suspicious. After running every test they could think of, the doctors had proclaimed her completely healthy and discharged her.
Quite the comeback there, granny.
Victoria’s heart attack scare might have been faked, but the results of it were genuine. The house was filled with life, guests were raving over the pieces in her art collection, eager for the auction—and Scarlett and I were together.
As far as anyone knew.
Though we stood together, holding hands and accepting congratulations, she was still keeping me at a distance emotionally. I hoped that was only due to the awkward circumstances and not because she didn’t love me.
Because I sure as hell loved her.
Yes, I’d pulled the engagement story out of thin air when Bryce had shown up, but I hadn’t been exactly sad Victoria had overheard us talking about it and had gotten confused.
In fact, I’d been pretty fucking thrilled.
I just wished I knew how Scarlett really felt about it. Aboutme.
And I was terrified of how she’d react when I gave up my most precious asset—my anonymity—and finally confessed my secret to her.
I’d find out soon enough.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR
HIS MUSE
Scarlett
I stood by the ballroom’s open French doors, breathing in the ocean air and seeking out the cooling breeze so I didn’t have a panic attack.
The whole ballroom scene was… overwhelming. It was beautiful and exciting andtalkabout new experiences—this was one to literally write home about.
But it was so different from my ordinary life. I felt like a fraud for multiple reasons—not the least of which was the lie Gray and I had told.
It had createdmonumentalconsequences.
For instance, at this very moment, Jade, the world-famous singer/songwriter, was performing a song she’d written for Gray and me as a celebration of our “love.”
When the song ended, he leaned over and dipped his head close to my ear. “Take a walk with me.”
Wanting desperately to escape the applause and the dewy-eyed looks people were sending in our direction, I nodded rapidly and took his arm. He led me out onto the mansion’s wide rear terrace and down the steps to the moonlit lawn.
Every tree on the estate had been decked with glowing lanterns, transforming the yard into a fairyland.
Tugging at my hand, Gray pulled me a few steps toward one of the large European weeping beech trees.
It had to be more than a hundred years old judging from its size. The majestic tree’s branches spanned as wide as a normal-sized house and were so thick with leaves, that once underneath them we couldn’t even see the party guests talking and laughing and drinking on the mansion’s balconies above us.
Hanging from one of the thick branches was a tree swing.
“Get on. I’ll push you,” he said.
I sat on the wide, smooth wooden seat and grabbed the rope supports on either side of me. Gray walked around behind me and put his hands on my waist.
