Page 11 of Grumpy Bossy Billionaire Enemy

Camille didn’t seem upset when I canceled the friendship date. I promised to make it up to her some other way. So, I drove through the busy road to a cafe I had picked out a little towards the outskirts of Richmond, where no one would recognize me. Dave, the private investigator, walked into the cafe just at the arranged time. He held out a long brown envelope as he sat across from him.

“Her name is Julia Andrews. She works as a waitress in a Bristol in Richmond.” I took out the pictures Dave had in the envelope.

They were pictures of when Henry met Julia. Henry's expression in the pictures was unpleasant, as if he didn’t want her to be around him. I listened carefully as Dave told me everything about Julia. He was specific, like he'd followed her around for a while.

“Henry tried to break up with her a few months back, but she keeps coming back; I guess she wants more than an exclusive relationship with him.”

“Thank you, Dave,” I said as I focused on the pictures.

Dave chipped in before he stood up to leave, “If you are marrying this man, be ready to deal with Julia. She doesn’t give up easily.”

“Thank you, Dave,” I said again as he left the cafe.

I stayed at the cafe for a few more minutes, trying to take in all that Dave told me about Henry.

I stroked the ring on my finger. It signified the start of my marriage with Henry. I hoped he had enough courage to get Julia away from me and our marriage.

****

I sat across from Henry on our second official date. He'd let me pick a venue and order the same meal as mine. We are doing this because we wanted our marriage to look authentic and natural. But nothing felt more natural than sitting with a man as handsome as him.

“You look good tonight,” Henry eventually said after stealing lots of glances at me. I could tell he was not one to give frequent compliments about what a lady wears, but Henry hadn’t stopped looking at me since I arrived at the restaurant.

“Thank you,” I responded, trying not to look at him for too long. The longer I looked at Henry, the harder it was for me not to picture him kissing me.

Those lips were perfectly curved. A man’s lips shouldn’t be as perfect as this.

“Your mom invited me to the family dinner on Friday night,” I started the conversation. “It’s nice of her to do that.”

“You are practically family.” Henry paused and looked up at me. “You seem impressed about my mother's family dinner ritual.”

I nodded shyly. “I wish my parents could have a family dinner every month,”

“Why can’t you do that?”

“Everyone seems busy. My sisters just left for college, and my parents are never at home,” I sighed. “As I grow up, I notice the drift between my parents. Now I wonder if they ever loved each other."

I rubbed my eyes, realizing that I'd said too much to Henry. I'd nurse those thoughts in my head for so long that I didn't know when I voiced it to Henry.

“I’m sorry, that’s too much to unload on you.”

“It’s fine.” Henry’s response sounded solid. “Are your parents like us? Matched together by their families?”

“Yes,” I answered, “your parents too?”

Henry nodded. We were both products of arranged marriage and were meant to marry each other because our families had said so.

“Do you think they ever loved each other at one point?” The question slipped out of my mouth with a slight edge of fear.

Sincere fear flowed through my veins when I realized we might end up like our parents. They were forced to live together because they wanted their enterprises to flourish.

“I don’t know if they did.” Henry’s reply amplified my fear. “But they were the perfect couple.”

Of course, they were the perfect couple. They were perfect to the media and their envious friends… but they were never perfect to their children. We saw through their eyes. My father’s distant eyes tell me he’d rather be somewhere else than be with my mother. Mother constantly rubbing her thighs together told me she misses intimacy.

Henry's touch reminded me of something. I asked, “Are you worried we will be like our parents?”

I was silent, but my silence spoke to Henry. My eyes showed my fears. Of course, I was worried I’d end up like Mother – lonely in a huge home while her husband’s heart was somewhere else.

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