Page 44 of Accidentally Yours

Willa

This man infuriated me. When Louis pulled up to the Pierre Hotel, where the event was hosted, Damien climbed out and extended his hand, which I smacked away.

“Take my hand now,” he commanded. “Theodore and his wife are right over there.”

Inhaling a sharp breath, I placed my hand in his and climbed out. He took my hand and looped it around his arm.

“Behave.” He glanced at me.

“Damien. Willa, darling.” Theodore hugged me.

“Willa, you look gorgeous.” Lucy smiled, hugging me.

“I love your dress, Lucy.”

“Thank you. Oh, to be your age again.”

“How did your daughter like the box I sent over?” I asked.

“Didn’t Damien tell you?” She cocked her head.

“No.” I glanced over at Damien.

“My apologies, Lucy. It’s been a crazy week, and I forgot to tell her.”

“My daughter loved it. I told her I would see you tonight, and she asked if she could order some from you for a couple of her friends.”

“I’m so happy she liked the box.” I shot Damien a dirty look.

“Mr. Blackwood, over here!” one of the reporters shouted.

“Smile for the camera, sweetheart.” Damien smiled.

I plastered a smile so fake for multiple pictures that my cheekbones cramped.

My stilettos were already blistering my feet, reminding me that I was here only to be presented as a trophy wife—if only everyone knew the real truth.

We stepped inside the hotel and made our way to the ballroom. We looked like every other power couple in the room from a distance—glamorous and poised. Up close? The tension between us was thicker than his wallet and twice as cold.

“Smile,” he clenched his teeth, his hand tightening around my waist. “People are staring at us.”

“Can I get a photo of the newlyweds kissing?” A young female reporter walked over, smiling.

“Of course.” Damien slid his hand up my back and tilted my face toward his, leaning in for a kiss. “Sell it,” he whispered, his eyes locking on mine.

I gripped the lapel of his jacket and smiled like I hadn’t just imagined slapping him a few minutes ago. Our lips met, and a flash went off.

“Beautiful. Thank you.” The young reporter smiled.

“There you are.” Charlie walked over with his wife. “Willa, this is my wife, Donna. Donna, Willa.”

“Oh my gosh. It’s so good to meet you finally.” She hugged me.

“You too. I love your dress. I almost bought the same one, but the store didn’t have my size.”

“Thank you. To be honest, I like your dress better.” She smiled.

Dinner was starting, so we all took our places around the table, which was beautifully decorated with white linens, fine China, and a beautiful floral centerpiece surrounded by votive candles.

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