Page 26 of Billionaire's Fake Plus One

How could Lucien keep this from me? Keep it together, Willow!

Our audience is still watching and waiting for my response. I calmly drop my fork and get to my feet. “Lucien didn’t feel the need to tell me about you because you’re nothing to him. He knew what a conniving and selfish bitch you are.” The audience gasps collectively. I spin around; but I stop to say, “My words from last night still stand. The girls are better off without you.”

My hands are shaking, but I keep my head held high as I walk out of the restaurant.

19

LUCIEN

“Mr. Parker is insisting that he wants the Gulfstream G650 for his flight to the Caribbean tomorrow, Lucien,” Boyd, my personal assistant says, his brows furrowed in concern. I shake my head at him, adjusting my laptop on the desk so I can see him better, while simultaneously responding to some important emails I haven’t had time to get to since we got to Half Moon Bay.

“Did you explain to him that it has some mechanical issues, and it’s undergoing maintenance?” I ask curtly. Boyd knows I hate being bothered with mundane problems like this, but Greg Parker is one of our loyal clients who spends the big bucks to get what he wants.

“I did, but he insists he wants that particular jet.” The frustration in his voice is evident now, so with a sigh, I close my emails to give him my full attention.

“Offer him the use of our G550.” They are almost identical, but the G650 is the newer model, larger and faster than the G550.

“I did! But for some reason he’s stuck on the G650. I don’t know why he’s so dead set on it. I’ve tried to cajole him, but he won’t budge. You know I wouldn’t have brought this to you without trying to fix it first. He’s an immovable wall, Lucien.”

“Fine. I’ll talk to him.” We hang up, and I dial Greg’s personal line. He picks on the second ring.

“What is this about my favorite jet not being available? I pay good money to Baldwin Elite Jets so I can have the plane I want when I want it, Lucien. I want you to fix it.”

It seems he’s in the mood to be particularly difficult today. I sigh, leaning back in my seat as I try to explain why that particular jet can’t be in the air tomorrow. “I can put pressure on maintenance to have it ready in two days, Greg. But I’m afraid tomorrow won’t work.”

The front door flies open, slamming against the wall, and I glance at the library’s door in surprise. I check the time on my laptop’s screen: 1:25 pm. Wasn’t the event for the duration of a day? I wasn’t expecting Willow back until at least four.

Greg is droning on about how important it is to get to the Caribbean tomorrow; he has already promised his partners the G650. In the midst of his tirade, the library’s door hits the wall. I take one look at her face, and I know she knows. But how much?

“How could you? How could you, Lucien? You made a fool out of me. But of course, I’m just the nanny, so you don’t care about me or my feelings.” She looks pissed as fuck, but I can see the hurt lurking behind that anger. Fuck.

“Take the G550 or move your trip up Greg. I have to go.” I hang up while he sputters in disbelief. “What happened at the spa, Willow?”

She places her hands on her hips with attitude, but fuck, her eyes are watering, and her lips are trembling. I rarely care about other people’s feelings or sparing them. Why the hell should I when it doesn’t matter either way. But Willow? My heart does this weird jiggle as I watch her struggle to come up with the right words.

“Well, your ex showed me. That’s what,” she finally spits out, confirming my suspicions - and fear. Fuck. “How could you not tell me you were married to her? That she’s the mother of the girls?”

My mind spins; my brain is working overtime as I try to figure out a way to answer without further angering or hurting her. “I didn’t think it was relevant,” I say lamely. Immediately when the words are out of my mouth, I know it was the wrong thing to say.

“Not relevant?! You have me here, pretending to be your loving girlfriend to these people. The loving girlfriend that you’re supposed to love back! How do you think it looks that I didn’t know this wedding we’re attending is between your brother and your ex-wife?” Not good. Fuck. I rub my jaw in aggravation as I contemplate my words, not wanting to say the wrong thing again, but she’s not done.

“Of course, I’m not relevant to you. Your first strike was not telling me this wedding was Zane’s until we got into the plane, and then it was too late for me to back out. My mistake was not backing out, anyway, because I should’ve realized at that moment that you don’t give a shit about me - if I look the fool or not. I’m just your kids’ fucking nanny who was poor and desperate enough to accept this stupid gig in the first place!”

“Willow, no.” My heart is solidly lodged in my throat now, dread pulling incessantly at the base of my spine. I move to her, but she raises her hands up.

“That’s more than close enough. Fool me once, shame on you, but fool me twice? All the shame lands on me. I can’t believe I ever trusted you. I should’ve learned my lesson from watching the way my mother turned out after trusting a rich man.” She swings around and walks out of the library.

I follow her as closely as I dare, trying to explain futilely without making her more angry. The truth is, I never want to remember those months when I was fool enough to date Brittany. Fool enough to marry her. The twins made it all worth it, of course, but I was so blind.

“I should’ve told you. I’m sorry Willow. I never thought Brittany would be vindictive enough to bring it up to you, especially when she’s getting married to Zane.”

We’re at the bedroom door now, and she turns to glare at me. “Funny, that’s exactly what I said to her. I want to be alone right now, Lucien.” She slams the door in my face. My hands form fists at my sides. What a clusterfuck.

I go back to the library for my phone. I have three missed calls from Greg, but he’s not important right now. He can take the G550 or fuck off. I pull up Zane’s number. “Why, if it isn’t my big brother who skipped fishing with me today. To what do I owe this honor?”

“Where is Brittany right now?” I ask without preamble, in no mood for his bullshit right now.

“What?”

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