Page 76 of The Billionaire Boss and the Barista

Emma rubbed her ear. “Yes. But like I said, it’s strictly platonic. He made me sign a prenup and everything.”

“Oh.” Bethany’s excitement dimmed. “Well, you still get something. Free room and board at least. Have you fucked him yet?”

“No. And it’s not going to happen,” she added dejectedly.

“Huh.” Bethany turned to face her. “You almost sound sorry about that.”

“No… but I guess I sort of thought we were getting closer. Then he mentioned dinner and I almost asked him if it was a date.”

“Is it?”

She shook her head. “He was out in the hall with his friend and neighbor Rainer, talking about his wedding right after we spoke. They were discussing hiring strippers for the bachelor party. Garrett said something about making the call, so I guess he’s taking care of it personally.”

Emma doubted he had a specialty buyer for strippers. Unless his fancy concierge service found hot women for him.

“That doesn’t mean your dinner isn’t a date,” Bethany pointed out with surprising kindness.

Emma grunted. “I wouldn’t want to date someone who turned right around and made plans to hire a stripper. Besides, he’s probably taking someone else to the wedding.”

She lifted a shoulder, shaking off her unwarranted melancholia. “I have no cause for complaint. Married or not, Garrett is doing what he told Hector. I gave him a reason to study and get good grades back in high school and now he’s paying it forward.”

“Hmm.” Bethany smacked her lips. “That’s way more boring. Well, prenup or not, you’re still the luckiest bitch I know.”

Emma nodded because it was true.

She had been doing her damnedest before Garrett but trying to work part-time with her condition meant not having the time or energy for anything else. Certainly not college classes.

Emma was barely working at all now.

Hector hadn’t come right out and said he was cutting her hours, but she had been scheduled to work a mere two days this week. That was something that would have made her spiral and freak even with the free room and board. But now she was getting five thousand dollars a week she didn’t earn.

She wasn’t going to touch it, of course. But the money was sitting in her bank account right now. Emma had checked her balance on her phone before starting her shift. Even if she never spent it, she could do what Garrett suggested and invest it. Then she could spend the dividends it made guilt-free.

It didn’t matter how she got this chance.Emma owed it to her family to make the most of it.

As for Garrett, he may be her husband, but it was a marriage of convenience. A paper marriage. It meant nothing to him. His convo about strippers made that clear.

The thought of going to the wedding this weekend and watching him dance with his date made her stomach hurt. But she would do it with a smile, because after all he was doing for her, Garrett deserved to live his life however he wanted, with whomever he wanted.

Garrett examinedthe bow he’d just made in his tie and swore. He walked to the door of his bedroom and called out for Emma.

She emerged from her room in a new dress that skimmed her curves so perfectly he nearly swallowed his tongue.

Her dress was a deep emerald green made from some silky synthetic material that alternately gathered or flowed over all the right places. Her hair was loose, falling down her back in shiny waves. She was holding a brush in her hand.

“I don’t suppose you know how to tie a bow tie?” he asked when he recovered.

Panic flared in her eyes for a second before she laughed. “Not unless it’s a clip-on.”

Yeah, he was an idiot. Even pre-accident Emma wouldn’t have had bow-tying experience. She didn’t have a dad or a granddad. And if he found out that one of her mom’s boyfriends had asked her to fix their tie, Garrett would go after them with a baseball bat.

“There is a clip-on option,” he confessed, “but I wasn’t quite prepared to admit defeat just yet.”

Her brow puckered adorably. “I thought you went to black tie events all the time.”

“I do, but I make it a point not to wear a bow tie. I think they’re outdated as hell. But it’s different for a wedding. I don’t want to ruin Georgia’s pictures.”

He began to back away. “No worries, I’ll wear the clip-on.”

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