Page 9 of Dr. Billionaire's Fake Marriage

“You are kidding, right?” he mocks. “You never missed the golf club since we became official members.”

I sigh; Henry is right. I have attended the golf club since I became a member when I was eighteen. "Is this about what happened last night?"

I frown at him. “No,” I reply. “Why would you think it is about that?”

“Well, because the last time I saw you make a fool of yourself like that was when Bethany was cheating on you with Josh.”

I shake my head and mutter, "it is not about that." I hate that he is bringing up Bethany. This is different. Bethany was my fiancée, and Camile is just an employee.

Henry doesn’t believe me. “I don’t believe anything you say,” he says, “because I think you care about Camile more than you admit.”

I scoff. Even if I cared about Camile, I am positive it would eventually go down the drain.

We don't have control over who we go out with or who we will eventually marry.

Mother, the queen bee, has that in her books. She thinks the family legacy should be preserved at all costs.

Hence, her need to force Henry and me to marry into a family with the same interest.

Five years ago, I was engaged to Bethany. Although Mother arranged the whole relationship, I fell so in love with her until Joshua showed up in our lives, and she realized she was better off with him.

She called off the engagement; that was the last time I heard from her. "This is not about Bethany, trust me."

Henry inhales hard. "It is," he insists. "Seeing Camile talk to Joshua last night brought out your paranoia. It makes you feel like you might lose Camile to him just like you lost Beth."

“You are crazy,” I reply. “I don’t even care about Camile like that.”

Henry stands up to say, “Maybe you do.”

I discard the thought. "This is definitely about Joshua more than Camile." I announce and continue, "Joshua is a greedy man who uses women for his selfish gains; he did that to Beth; now, he wants to do that same to Camile. I just want to strangle him with my bare hands."

“Keep telling yourself that,” Henry says, “but I think you should apologize to Camile.”

I nod; this is probably the only thing I think Henry is right about. "I am going to call her soon."

Henry looks at me like I am committing a felony for calling Camile to apologize. He thinks I should go to Camile’s house.

“You are crazy!” I exclaim. “You think I should go to her house to apologize?”

"Yes," he says, "…and buy her flowers. You have caused that poor girl a lot of trouble in just two days."

I scowl. Maybe Henry is right after all. I have caused Camile so much trouble, and apologizing over the phone is the bare minimum I can give her in return.

When Henry leaves for the golf club, I know I have one place to be. I head to Camile's house.

I clench my fists as I pick up my SUV keys. This is the second time going to her house; it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet.

I stop at the floral shop a few minutes' drive from home to pick up some varieties I think she would like.

I don't know myself, so I tell the florist to recommend them.

The old florist selects yellow and purple orchids. I pay for the flowers, hoping they are enough to make Camile forgive me.

When I pull in her driveway, I see her looking at me from the window. She closes the drapes and waits for me to knock on the door.

I knock, holding the orchids in my hand while adjusting the collar of my blue shirt. I knock again.

She is in the house but doesn't want to open the door. Finally, the door swings open, and Mrs. Howard, Camile's mother, comes out of the house.

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