Page 22 of My Possessive Billionaire: Our Fake Marriage

The charity would benefit greatly, I kept telling myself. It already had. Already we’d been able to buy vast swaths of the forest back from the logging companies just because Evan knew some people in the government. Who could even tell how much good Evan’s public persona and magnetic personality had done for thecause?

It didn’t feel magical, but at least the logical side of my brain found some benefit. I tried to make that enough but largely failed.

I sensed a presence behind me a moment before the doors to the balcony swung open wide. The diaphanous curtains billowed out and brushed my bare ankle before subsiding. Evan stepped onto the balcony with me. I stiffened up at his arrival. Another expectation laid upon my shoulders.

“Amanda, what are you doing here?” he checked his phone. “We have to take photos in twenty minutes. That doesn’t give you much time for mingling beforehand, not to mention cozying up to the reporters.”

My face twisted up into a scowl, but I wiped it from my face before I turned around to look him in the eyes.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I said, ice in my tone and in my gaze. “Please forgive me, sir. I’ll return to my duties like a good little employee.”

I stormed off the balcony, leaving him flustered and alone. What was he going to do, complain that I’d gone off to do just what he wanted me to? The very definition of a white mutiny.

I mingled with the crowd, pretending to have fun if nothing else. My attempts to put on a mask for the crowd grew even more urgent when I spotted Jennifer, Ramone, and Jake approaching me. Each of them wore a look of concern, and maybe a little guilt.

Jennifer’s face said it all. When she’d told me to go ahead and take a shot at Evan, this wasn’t what she meant. She knew it and I knew it.

“Hey, you,” Ramone said. “How are things going?”

“How do you think things are going?” Jake sneered. “She’s trying to pretend like the wedding isn’t fake.”

“Shhh,” I said, putting my finger to my mouth. “Don’t say that soloud. Or at all. Preferably, don’t say it at all.”

“I feel bad that you’re doing all of this for us,” Jennifer said with a pout.

“Don’t be.” I plastered the fakest, most faux sincere smile onto my face that I could muster. “I’m doing it for the world. We only have one planet, you know. And besides, every girl dreams of a fairy tale wedding. I’m actually getting one. Isn’t it great?”

I gestured around, throwing my arms out like a spokesmodel on the Price is Right.

“Look at my party! I think you guys should go off and enjoy yourselves.”

I hugged them all together, and then made my escape. The smile faded from my face as I found a private, secluded spot next to one of the champagne fountains. I drank an entire glass in one go and gasped at the end as the warmth spread through my belly.

“Shit,” I said with a grimace.

“I hope you’re not getting too drunk for the ceremony, not to mention Evan’s speech.”

I started, then turned around to find Jenna standing there. That personal assistant gave me the creeps. I couldn’t tell if she liked me or hated my fucking guts. She had the same cold stare that Evan had.

“You insisted that Evan give this speech. It’s imperative that you are there, on the stage, with him.”

I heaved a long sigh. “All right, fine.”

Jenna cocked an eyebrow. “Why do you act like you’re going off to the gallows? Are you that fed up with Evan already?”

“Evan? Not Mr. Jones?”

Her eyes narrowed, and a smile played on her lips. “I hope you won’t tell him. Oh, and you should give Evan a chance. He’s not such a bad guy once you get to know him.”

“And how well do you know him, exactly?”

“Strictly professionally, of course, he is very particular about that. And I know that you won’t believe me, but actually he isn’t my type. But listen, what I want to tell you is that there is a decent person behind that façade. And that you really need to get on that stage, all right?”

I narrowed my gaze at her retreating back as she led me toward the stage. She seemed more or less sincere, like she was trying to build me up. But maybe that had been her game all along. Whatever the case, I was in a damn sour mood when I took up my position. Since my parents had passed away, Ramone did the honors of walking me down the aisle.

The march of the bride is supposed to be that one moment in a woman’s life where everyone in the room is looking at her. For me, it was torture. I kept expecting people to start whispering about how I was a fraud, how the whole wedding was fake. Couldn’t they see that it was all fake?

When I got to the ivory, ribbon-wrapped pillars of the altar, I felt like I wanted to throw up. Ramone kissed me on top of the head, and I hugged him tight. I was glad he was there with me. Then, I had to leave him behind and climb the steps.

---