Page 41 of Billionaire's Fake Wife: A Single Mom BWWM Romance

It's Friday night, I tried to ask Sonya out on a date – a simple dinner or some coffee. But she flat out refused, telling me that she's got a date with her daughter Lauralee. I almost asked her if I can join them, but I shut my mouth at the last minute. I know she needs to spend quality time with Lauralee.

So I just decided to go to the bar by myself and have a drink. Or two. Or five.

I'm already on the fourth glass of my gin and tonic. The bartender is already eyeing me as if he's trying to assess if I'm already drunk. I'm a regular here, so they know that I usually drive myself.

They're just looking after my welfare.

I say to myself as I order my fifth glass.

"That's going to be your last one if you still plan on driving. Otherwise, I'm going to have to confiscate your keys, and you'll have to get a cab to get home," the bartender points out.

I nod in agreement as I chug down the drink. I can feel the alcohol making a line in my throat. I put the glass down on the counter, left some bills on the counter for payment plus tip.

I can feel the eyes of the bartender staring at me from behind as he tries to see if I can still walk properly. Thankfully, my alcohol tolerance is high, and I'm still able to go home by myself.

Sonya's still lingering on my mind as I plop myself onto my bed. Without any strength left to wash up and change clothes, I drift off to sleep in my polo and trousers.

The alarm on my phone blares its sound in my room.

Yes, it's Saturday. Yes, I've got an early alarm on Saturdays. You're wondering why?

Mother has this tradition slash rule that we all must eat breakfast together during Saturdays. Everyone is expected to join, there are no exceptions, no excuses.

The only time that she'll allow you to skip it is if you're sick and confined at the hospital. Or if there's a company-related event that you need to attend to. But you still need to ask for permission for that one.

She doesn't care what state you're in, you must show up at the dining table at 8:00 am, sharp.

I wince at the pain that I feel as I drag myself off my bed.

Shit! I'm having a bad case of a hangover!

I go inside the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror. I look terrible – disheveled hair, red eyes, and dark circles under my eyes.

I grab some medicine from the cabinet and pop them into my mouth. Then, I take a quick shower so that I'll look somehow presentable when I arrive downstairs. I dress casually and make my way towards the dining room.

The aroma of the food greets me as I enter the room, and I feel my stomach rumbling. I didn't eat properly last night, hence the hangover today.

My mom and dad are already seated at the table. I give both of them a quick kiss on the cheek as I greet them good morning. I sit down, hoping that my mother doesn't notice or question my current appearance.

The helper brings me a cup of freshly brewed coffee, and I thank her. I get some sausage, bacon, eggs, and toast. I also reach for the butter and jam.

"So, Dad, how's your latest trip? Did you find anything interesting?" I ask him as I spread some jam into my toast.

"Well, it's alright, I guess," he answers. "Most of the pieces that we saw were just the usual stuff, so we went home empty-handed. But there's another place that we'll go to next week, I hear there's a lot of Victorian-era pieces that I can get my hands on."

Arnold “Gilbert” Fields, my father, used to be a lawyer. He's a partner in one of the largest legal firms in the city. Most of their clients were big names.

He helped my mother in putting up the company, but he didn't want to manage it or be dragged into its affairs. He's got no interest in fashion whatsoever.

He retired from practicing law when he turned fifty. From then on, he started to pursue his real passion, which is antiques. Every now and then, he goes on trips to look for hard to find pieces.

"Grant," my mother calls out to me. "What are your plans with Sonya?"

I'm caught a little bit off guard, but I manage to answer after a few seconds.

"We're just finishing up the details for the latest project. We'll be ready to roll it out in a few days," I say.

Gloria rolls her eyes at me.

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