Page 23 of My Big, Fat, Accidental Billionaire Husband

“I’ve already spoken with Arthur Sterling.”

My stomach drops. “You have?” Oh wait, I think I remember Arthur saying something about contacting my boss... I just have no idea what he told him.

“Yes. He called me before boarding the plane. I’m aware of the... complications regarding Dom’s Costa Rica project.”

I sink onto the edge of the bed. “Then you know they want us to stay married. For thirty days.”

“Thirty days? That’s a lot better. He originally floated out six months to me.” Another pause. “In any case, that brings me to the reason for my call.”

Here it comes. The termination speech. ‘We appreciate your service, but unfortunately your accidental marriage to my best friend represents an insurmountable conflict of interest, so please kindly go jump off the nearest bridge, and don’t forget to slit your wrists on the way down, just in case...’

I straighten my spine, preparing for the blow. “Yes?”

“This creates a rather delicate situation at the office.”

I close my eyes, blinking away the tears. “I understand completely. I’ll have my resignation letter sent to your office by tomorrow morning. Thank you so much for hiring—”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Tatiana,” he interrupts. “Do you have any idea how long it would take me to train a replacement who meets my standards?”

My eyes fly open, and I wipe the tears from my cheeks. “So... I’m not fired?”

“No, you’re not fired.” There’s a hint of exasperation in his voice. “Though obviously we’ll need to implement certain protocols.”

“Protocols?” I echo.

“Confidentiality agreements. Recusal procedures for any matters involving Dom’s businesses. You’ll need to be particularly meticulous about maintaining separation between your professional duties and your... marital situation.”

Marital situation. Like it’s a minor inconvenience rather than a life-altering catastrophe.

“I can do that,” I say quickly. “Absolutely.”

“And I expect you back in the office as soon as possible. We still have the Singapore contracts to finalize.”

“Understood.” I pick at a loose thread on the bathrobe. “Christopher, I really am sorry about all this.”

There’s a pause, and when he speaks again, his voice has lost some of its edge. “These things happen.”

I nearly choke. “Accidental Vegas marriages happen?”

“Well, no,” he concedes. “But Leo Maxwell-induced catastrophes certainly do. I once found myself on a cargo ship to Montevideo after a night out with him.”

My mouth falls open. “You’re joking.”

“I wish I were. Don’t tell Dom I told you that.”

For the first time since waking up married, I laugh. A real laugh, not the hysterical kind threatening to bubble up all morning.

“I should go,” Christopher says, back to business. “The Mendoza call is in twenty minutes. I’ll see you soon.”

“Soon,” I confirm, still stunned that I have a job to return to.

The call ends, and I stare at my phone in disbelief. Not fired. Still going to be working for Christopher. With rules and protocols, but still employed.

Well, at least the situation isn’t entirely unsalvageable.

Not yet, anyway.

7

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