Read Online I Married a Billionaire by Melanie Marchande - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Melanie Marchande
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parents?"
There it was. I'd kept pushing that question to the back of my mind, but I was going to have to confront it eventually. "I'm not sure," I admitted, pushing some lettuce around on my plate. "We haven't really talked in a while. If I just call them out of the blue, and tell them I'm engaged…"
"They'll find out eventually, won't they? One way or another. Isn't it best that they hear it from you directly?"
He was right. The contract did stipulate that I had to change my relationship status on any social networking sites - which was only reasonable - and I was online "friends" with quite a few people who knew my parents. There was no chance I'd be able to skate by on that one.
Truth was, I'd kept most of my relationships secret from my parents. They were so probing and critical of most things I did, and I never wanted to go through all the hassle of trying to introduce them to someone, only to turn around later and inform them that we'd broken up. "But why? What happened? What did you do? Did you say something that scared him off? Maybe if you lost a few pounds…I mean, you're an attractive girl, but competition is fierce out there…"
I shuddered a little. The idea of telling them I was going to marry a billionaire only to tell them in a year that we were getting divorced…it was horrifying. But I had no choice, if I wanted to through with this. Surely two million dollars was worth enduring a few awkward phone calls.
We ate the rest of our lunch in silence that day. Daniel was aware he'd touched on a nerve, and he didn't bring the subject up again.
Late Friday afternoon, he came by my cubicle just as I was packing up my things. Thankfully, Florence had already cut out for the day.
"I'd like to take you to dinner tonight," he said, and there was something very meaningful in his eyes. Oh, God. This was it, wasn’t it? He was going to propose to me. In public, I was sure. He had to make a spectacle of it.
"Okay," I said, my heart already fluttering in my chest.
"Be ready at seven o'clock."
The midnight blue dress was still in its plastic bag from the cleaner's, hanging in the back of my closet. I hadn't expected to need it again so soon. I pulled it out when I got home, quickly showered and dried my hair, and zipped myself up in it. It still looked fantastic, even when paired with a haunted, thousand-yard stare.
I wasn’t ready for this. But I didn't exactly have a choice.
I clasped the necklace on and slipped in the earrings, pondering what I should do with my hair. Simply leaving it down didn't seem to befit the occasion, but it was stubborn. If I tried to put it up in something, I'd be fighting with it all night. The downside to naturally thick, glossy hair was that it was improbably heavy and slippery. I'd yet to meet a band or clip that could hold it, and I hated hairspray with a fiery passion.
Nothing for it, then. I brushed it thoroughly and let it fall around my shoulders, hoping I wouldn't look horribly out of place in whatever insanely expensive restaurant he was taking me to.
The driver was punctual as always, and this time, I was surprised to see Daniel already in the back seat waiting for me.
"Hello, Maddy," he said, looking at me approvingly. It had to be put on. No real date of his would wear the same dress more than once. But he hadn’t said a word about it, so I tried not to worry.
"I'm sorry," I muttered, as I settled into the seat next to him. "This is the only fancy thing I have."
"Don't worry," he said. "You still look as stunning as ever."
I rolled my eyes.
The driver was watching us and chuckling to himself.
"She can't take a complement gracefully, this one," said Daniel. "It's tragic."
"Well, you'll just have to work on that, sir."
"I will, John. Don't you worry."
I sank deeper into the Italian leather and tried not to look miserable.
"What's the matter, darling?" Daniel said, finally, squeezing my shoulder gently.
"I don't know," I said. "I guess I'm just
There it was. I'd kept pushing that question to the back of my mind, but I was going to have to confront it eventually. "I'm not sure," I admitted, pushing some lettuce around on my plate. "We haven't really talked in a while. If I just call them out of the blue, and tell them I'm engaged…"
"They'll find out eventually, won't they? One way or another. Isn't it best that they hear it from you directly?"
He was right. The contract did stipulate that I had to change my relationship status on any social networking sites - which was only reasonable - and I was online "friends" with quite a few people who knew my parents. There was no chance I'd be able to skate by on that one.
Truth was, I'd kept most of my relationships secret from my parents. They were so probing and critical of most things I did, and I never wanted to go through all the hassle of trying to introduce them to someone, only to turn around later and inform them that we'd broken up. "But why? What happened? What did you do? Did you say something that scared him off? Maybe if you lost a few pounds…I mean, you're an attractive girl, but competition is fierce out there…"
I shuddered a little. The idea of telling them I was going to marry a billionaire only to tell them in a year that we were getting divorced…it was horrifying. But I had no choice, if I wanted to through with this. Surely two million dollars was worth enduring a few awkward phone calls.
We ate the rest of our lunch in silence that day. Daniel was aware he'd touched on a nerve, and he didn't bring the subject up again.
Late Friday afternoon, he came by my cubicle just as I was packing up my things. Thankfully, Florence had already cut out for the day.
"I'd like to take you to dinner tonight," he said, and there was something very meaningful in his eyes. Oh, God. This was it, wasn’t it? He was going to propose to me. In public, I was sure. He had to make a spectacle of it.
"Okay," I said, my heart already fluttering in my chest.
"Be ready at seven o'clock."
The midnight blue dress was still in its plastic bag from the cleaner's, hanging in the back of my closet. I hadn't expected to need it again so soon. I pulled it out when I got home, quickly showered and dried my hair, and zipped myself up in it. It still looked fantastic, even when paired with a haunted, thousand-yard stare.
I wasn’t ready for this. But I didn't exactly have a choice.
I clasped the necklace on and slipped in the earrings, pondering what I should do with my hair. Simply leaving it down didn't seem to befit the occasion, but it was stubborn. If I tried to put it up in something, I'd be fighting with it all night. The downside to naturally thick, glossy hair was that it was improbably heavy and slippery. I'd yet to meet a band or clip that could hold it, and I hated hairspray with a fiery passion.
Nothing for it, then. I brushed it thoroughly and let it fall around my shoulders, hoping I wouldn't look horribly out of place in whatever insanely expensive restaurant he was taking me to.
The driver was punctual as always, and this time, I was surprised to see Daniel already in the back seat waiting for me.
"Hello, Maddy," he said, looking at me approvingly. It had to be put on. No real date of his would wear the same dress more than once. But he hadn’t said a word about it, so I tried not to worry.
"I'm sorry," I muttered, as I settled into the seat next to him. "This is the only fancy thing I have."
"Don't worry," he said. "You still look as stunning as ever."
I rolled my eyes.
The driver was watching us and chuckling to himself.
"She can't take a complement gracefully, this one," said Daniel. "It's tragic."
"Well, you'll just have to work on that, sir."
"I will, John. Don't you worry."
I sank deeper into the Italian leather and tried not to look miserable.
"What's the matter, darling?" Daniel said, finally, squeezing my shoulder gently.
"I don't know," I said. "I guess I'm just
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