Page 52 of The Husband Contract
“I don’t think I would say that exactly. To be honest, for a really long time, I felt like I was never going to get anything I wanted. I felt like, somehow, I had inherited some curse and was being put through all the shitty things that life could give. But I’m okay with it now, because life is correcting itself. It brought me to you."
She presses her lips against my chest.
"I’ve never met a man like you before. Someone so open with his emotions. I’ve honestly never felt this blissful and happy and so excited to share it. And I want to thank you, Sebastian. I didn’t think that men like you existed. You’ve given me faith again." I stare down into her eyes. Her words seem so sincere, but I know the truth.
"I want to thank you, as well, Willow, because if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t believe that women like you existed either."
She beams up at me, and I wonder what she’s thinking. Does she think that I’m saying she’s wonderful? She most probably has no idea that I’m thinking about what a good actress she is.
I wonder if she’s a sociopath. I can’t tell if she feels any remorse for anything that she’s done. She’s definitely an Oscar-worthy actress, because as she stands there, smiling at me and kissing me and touching me, I can almost believe that her emotions are real.
In fact, I can almost believe that mine are real, as well.
Chapter Thirteen
Willow
I feel like I’m the real-life Cinderella, living my best fairy-tale princess life, and I can't quite believe that everything is real. I sit back in the stretch limo with the luxurious leather seats and gaze over at Sebastian as he works on his laptop. He's wearing a dark blue suit, and he looks ever so handsome. I can't believe that I'm here with him and that we're in Vegas. I can't believe that we flew first class, drank champagne, and kissed. He even held my hand while we were on the plane. I want to pinch myself. I can't believe this is my life, and yet, I'm grateful. I'm happy.
I stare out the window at the tall hotels and people walking down the street, amazed to see that Vegas looks exactly like it does in the movies and TV shows. I reach over and pinch myself because I want to acknowledge that this isreal. I feel like I'm living a dream. I can't even begin to comprehend how this has become my life, yet it has.
I peek another glance at Sebastian. He's working so hard as he types, and I wonder if he knows just how attractive he is. I mean, he has to. He's gorgeous, but it's more than just his looks. It's the way that he smiles. It's the way that he listens. It's the way that he cares.
My phone beeps, and I look down at the screen. I try not to groan when I see that Charlotte is calling me. I don't really want to talk to her, but I know she probably has questions.
I glance over again at Sebastian. He still has his earbuds in, so I answer. I don't want him to hear my conversation, so I talk softly.
"Hello," I say, almost whispering.
"Where are you, Willow?" Charlotte's voice is loud and annoyed, and I take a deep breath. There's no way I can tell her that I'm in Las Vegas with the most gorgeous man in the world. Number one, she wouldn't believe me; number two, if she did, she'd tell me to get my ass back to the B&B as soon as possible. Charlotte does not like it when good things happen to me.
I've always tried to dismiss that, but I know it's true. I've spent many years acknowledging her jealousy and envy, even though she has so much more than me.
"I'm speaking to you, Willow," she screeches. "Where are you?"
"Sorry," I say in a low voice, coughing. "I'm actually not feeling that well right now. I am home sick." I cross my fingers. I absolutely detest lying, but sometimes a little white lie never hurts anyone.
"What do you mean, you're sick?" she snaps.
"I mean, I'm not feeling well, so I'm home and not at the B&B."
"Well, who's looking after my business?”
“Brielle and Katherine, your other employees.”
“I'm not happy about this, Willow. I've already told you that when I am not in the hotel, you need to be there."
"I can't be there every working hour, Charlotte. I'm sorry, but what do you want me to do? If I came into work and coughed over our guests and got someone sick, they'd be really upset."
"Well, obviously you can't get anyone sick, but this is absolutely insane. I'm not paying you to be at home."
I press my lips together. "Charlotte, how can I help you?"
"I was calling to tell you that I'm going to France, and I am not to be bothered with anything. You should take care of the B&B until further notice."
"Okay… What do you mean by that exactly?”
“Are you trying to be facetious? What do you mean by asking what do I mean?”
