Page 21 of Fake Marriage with the Billionaire

She laughed and he smiled but suddenly didn’t feel much like smiling at all. He felt like she’d insulted him somehow.What’s wrong with being with me?

“We should eat,” he said instead of addressing the annoyed voice in his mind. “I’ve had something light prepared for the night. I figured that would be more conducive to planning.”

The two of them went into the dining room where his long dining room table was set up with several plates of food -- chicken breasts, salad, and a few slices of garlic bread. Stella paused and looked up at him questioningly. “Well,” she said, “it’s definitely a change from the Thanksgiving dinner we had last night.”

She chuckled and he just rolled his eyes and pulled a chair out for her so she could sit, then he took the chair next to her.

“This is a big table for one person,” she said looking past the small feast and to the seven other chairs at the table.

“It’s standard for a house like this.”

She looked at him skeptically and he said, “I used to have dinner parties from time to time, as well. You have to make sure you have enough chairs for everyone to sit, after all.”

She smirked and raised an eyebrow. “You? Dinner parties?” He glared at her and she chuckled. “I’m sorry, I just never thought a guy like you would be into parties or, like, happiness or anything.”

He huffed. “That’s a little rude, don’t you think? What do you take me for? Some hermit living alone in a big castle on a hill?”

Without hesitation, she said with a laugh, “Yes. That’s actually exactly what I think.” Richard rolled his eyes annoyedly. “Oh, don’t be like that. You’ve been walking around commanding everyone around you like you’re the King of England since we met. How could you not think I’d have that impression of you?”

“I’m not a hermit,” he said, woundedly. “Or some kind of emotionless robot. I’m just focused on my job, that’s all.”

She regarded him, her eyes looking him up and down. “Yeah, your job seems to be your life. When was the last time you were on a date? Like a real date?’

“That’s none of your business.”

“I’m your fiancée, now,” she said. “Don’t you think that’s something I ought to know?”

“No,” he said with a little laugh. “I do not think whom I dated last is something my fiancée ought to know.”

“What will I ever gossip about at the country club, then?”

He gave her a sour look and she cleared her throat. “Anyway,” she said. “I know you want to go over all the things I’m going to need to know to be your fake fiancée, but it might not be a bad idea for us to actually get to know one another.”

He smiled sardonically and answered, “If it’s all the same to you, the less I know about your life the better. And vice versa.”

She paused, her fork poised over her salad. “You think so? I’m supposed to be your fiancée and knownothingabout you?”

“Relax,” he said. “You’ll get to know the basics. We only need to fool the estate lawyers and my stepmother. Which, by the way, is why we need to get started on this as soon as possible. We’ve got a meeting with the estate lawyers and in a few weeks, my stepmother wants us to attend a dinner party that she’s throwing.”

Stella frowned a little. “Sorry, I was under the impression that you didn’t like your stepmother.”

“I don’t like her.”

She tilted her head. “And your stepmother, whom you don’t like, invited you to a party and you agreed to go? Why?”

He sighed. “She’s the first line of defense in this. If we can’t fool her, she won’t leave well enough alone about it. She’ll be the hardest one to get past since she’s known me the longest.”

She poked at the chicken on her plate, her knife slicing into it slowly as she went silent. He could already read her mind.All the more reason to get to know each other better, she was thinking. it was a bad idea, though. He didn’t want to get any closer to her than he had to.

“In any event,” he went on, “I thought tonight we could discuss some of the more important things that you’ll need to know as my fiancée. We can get more in-depth later, but let’s focus on what you’ll need to cover by the time of the party instead.”

She smiled wanly and said, “Great. I would have thought that the estate lawyers would have been the harder ones. They’re probably going to ask super personal questions directly.”

He grunted. “We’ll be ready for them,” he said. “Don’t you worry about that?”

After dinner, they went into the den where they’d first discussed the original contract. On the coffee table between the couches, there were little silver plates of hors d’oeuvres, of which, Stella raised an eyebrow too.

“Trying to fatten me up?” she asked him. “We just had dinner, what’s all this?”

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