Page 112 of Marrying the Billionaire Single Dad
"He set a date and everything," I mutter. "And of course you're helping me organize the wedding."
She hesitates.
"You are, aren't you?" I frown.
"Of course I am." She nods, cautiously, "But you mentioned something about a date?" She swallows, "When...when is it?"
I open my mouth and she raises a hand, "No, don't tell me. Let me guess. It's next week?"
I shake my head.
She pales, "It's in five days?"
I raise my hand, palm face up.
"Four?" She gulps.
I stay silent.
She blinks rapidly. "Three days. Please tell me I have at least three days to organize this event?"
"Afraid not." I purse my lips.
She sinks back in her chair. "It's tomorrow, isn't it?" She wrings her fingers together.
"No." A chuckle wells up, and I swallow it down. I mean, this entire thing would be hysterical, except for the fact that it is my life and this is actually happening.
"It's the day-after-tomorrow."
"What?" She chokes. "You mean it's on New Year's Eve? Do you know what kind of a logistical nightmare this is going to be? Not to mention, having to organize your dress and the venue... How the hell am I supposed to manage everything?"
"About that." I grab my backpack, pull out his credit card and hold it up.
Isla snatches it out of my hand, "Now we're talking. Though I have to warn you, that all the money in the world, may not be enough to pull this off, given the crazy timelines."
"You're telling me," I mutter. "I asked him what the hurry was and he said," I raise my shoulders, "why delay?"
"Maybe he doesn't want to wait, in case you change your mind?" Isla offers.
"Not likely, considering I was the one who proposed." I huff.
"Maybe he doesn't trust himself to not change his mind...?"
I stare up and into Isla's shrewd gaze. "May...be," I concede. "More likely, he thinks money can buy anything." Typical Damian, to throw money at a problem and expect it to resolve itself. I wrap my arms about my waist. "Just like he didn’t think twice before he commanded me to move into the apartment in The Shard, becauseno fiancée of his is living in a crummy apartment." I air-quote his words.
I glance around the tiny one-bedroom, which is small, but comfortable… But it isn’t mine. Which is fine. I belong nowhere, remember? It’s why I had gone half-way across the world to find a place I could fit into.
I mean, sometimes you need to go full circle before you find where you belong… Which is where? In his arms, in his home, between his thighs as he wraps his massive arms around me and holds me down.Argh! Stop.
I bury my face in my glass of vino. "What the hell have I done, Isla?"
"Umm…seems you got yourself a hubby, Julia." She coughs.
I scowl back, "You’re laughing at me."
"No," she shakes her head, "not really."
I frown.
