Page 124 of Knocked Up by My Fake Fiancé
"Nice. Imagine if your company ends up bigger than Dad's. He'd be resentful and proud at the same time." She smirks. "I'm happy for you. Especially because your happiness is going to drive Marina even crazier than she already was last night."
"What happened?"
"Oh, I saw her and George arguing in the driveway. She looked unhinged, and he kept asking her about her pills. I didn't catch the details, but they got in the car still yelling and drove off."
"Huh. That's… weird." I shrug, filing it away for later. "Anyway, back to Amira?—"
Steph groans. "I thought I distracted you."
"Nope." I grin. "Big-brother privilege. Listen, I'll give you the best advice you're ever going to get. Get over yourself—and get over whatever emotional damage Mom and Pops left you with. Because if you don't, you'll regret it for the rest of your life. If you love Amira, go after her. Apologize. Tell her you love her, tell her you want to make things right. Beg her for another chance and promise this time will be different."
She rolls her eyes. "You sound like a Hallmark movie."
"Maybe. But you know I'm right." I nudge her. "And when she takes you back, cherish her. Put her first. Make her the focus of your life—not shopping and vodka tonics." I grin. "Also, tellher she has to come back, because you need her to attend your brother's wedding with you."
A few weeks later, I'm standing in a vast, golden hall, watching everything unfold.
It's the final gala for the Showcase, and even though I no longer work with the Wolfe Group, I can't help but be proud, because Jenna put this all together.
It's grand and elaborate, beautiful art pieces hanging on the walls, some of them gritty and genuine, giving a meaningful contrast to the classic elegance offered by the crystal chandeliers and the golden archways.
Outside, lining the red carpet, a row of press photographers jostle and shove each other, calling out to attract the attention of VIP guests as they enter, each vying to get that magic shot of the evening that will make it to the backdrop image for the news anchor's story, later that night. Everyone who wants to be anyone wants to be here, but we kept the guest list very exclusive for a reason.
My parents are here too.
I would like to say that they came to support the Wolfe Foundation showcase finalé, but I know it's more likely that they came here to get a chance to speak to me. They've been trying to talk to me ever since that disastrous dinner, and my mother has even shown up at my apartment a few times.
I've instructed Alvaro not to let them in… ever—nor George or Marina either—and to call me if they try. It's tough on Alvaro, but on the other hand I've told him that whatever bribe they offer—and I'm pretty sure that sooner or later they will try tobribe him—I'll pay him double, so at least he won't be out-of-pocket by it.
I refuse point blank to even speak one word to them again. Not until she apologizes genuinely to Jenna, and I have to believe she really means it, too. Even then, I still might not interact with them. They were already given too many chances to hurt my woman before. I'm not going to allow them to do it again.
So, while I wait for Jenna to arrive, I avoid them. Instead, I engage with a few of Wolfe Group's business partners, and I keep my eye out in case I sense anything going off plan. Jenna had to return home to pick up a few things and to get changed, and she said she'll be back as soon as she can. I told her I could pick everything up for her, and bring her clothes to change into, but she told me not to bother, since she was already halfway there.
I wish I'd insisted on going for her. She's needed here, and I'm not. Also, I miss her. Sure, I just saw her this morning, but she was too busy for breakfast, and I feel like I didn't get my fill of her before she had to take off.
I might never get my fill.
Everything at the gala seems to be running smoothly so far. Alongside our biggest clients, we have invited a few small business owners to mingle with the larger investors. The din of conversation and laughter suggests that most people are having a good time, even as the orchestra plays classical music in the background.
I'm proud that Jenna pulled all this off in such a short time.
I just can't wait till she gets here so I can show her off in person.
I'm also happy this whole showcase series is over after today. She's been stressing so much about it over the last few weeks, and though I've tried to help calm her nerves, I can tell it hasn't always entirely worked. These last couple of weeks after handingin my resignation, I also threw myself into providing her with whatever help she needed, while setting up my own holding company on the side.
I'm here today, not as the CEO of Wolfe Holdings, but simply to support my fiancée. No matter how much my parents stare at me and talk between themselves, I refuse to pay them any mind, only focusing on the task at hand.
That is, until George approaches me.
"Can we talk?"
I stare at him, almost disbelieving what I was hearing. "I'd actually much rather punch you in the face right now." Although I had never received any direct confirmation that it had been George who hired those reporters to write that article, they did admit that someone called them and fed them the information. They said it was a woman, so I'm assuming it was George's assistant.
I'm going to make him pay for that, but I haven't had the time yet to think of an appropriate punishment. Decking him might do the trick, but I'm certainly not going to do it at Jenna's event and ruin everything for her.
"Look," George says. "I'm not here to take any more insults or abuse. I just came to make it clear to you; I did not tell anyone to write that article."
"Let me also make it clear. I don't believe you."
