Page 15 of Her Billion Dollar Groom

“Great,” I repeat.

“I’ll leave you to unpack,” he says, and before I can say another word, he vanishes, leaving me alone in my new home.

At least, he does for the first half hour.

I’m in my bedroom, making my bed, when he comes in to check on me. He glances at the sheets and frowns. “Those are quite loud, aren’t they?”

“It’s just pink,” I say, looking down at the rose petal design of my covers. It’s quite subtle, isn’t it? “Don’t tell me. You’re all about beige and gray, aren’t you?”

“No.” He scowls, suddenly defensive. “I like green as well.”

“How much green is in your house?”

He takes a deep breath and changes the subject. “I just came to check that you’re okay.”

“I’m getting used to it,” I say with a grin. “Thanks.”

“I usually have my lunch at one.” He glances at his watch. “And that’s 20 minutes away. If you want to join me in the main dining room, you can, or I can get my cook to bring you something.”

“Oh. I ate before I came over, but thank you for thinking of me.”

I smile. He shuffles from foot to foot. Neither of us let our eyes meet.

“And dinner’s at six thirty. Again, you can join me for that, if you want.”

“Six thirty,” I echo. “That’s early, isn’t it?”

“Not for me.” He chuckles, scratching at his temple and staring at the ground. “Anyway, you don’t have to come. But the offer is there if you want to, I don’t know, spend some time together.”

“Thanks,” I say without really meaning it. “I think I’ll just unpack for now. I was kind of planning to have a quiet night.”

“Well, if you want to come, please let me know before three so I can let the chef know.”

“You have a chef, for real?” I squint at him.

“He’s a fabulous cook.” Jason grins. “I can’t wait for you to try some of his food.”

I decide now is not the best time to confess to Jason that I mostly live off microwave meals and takeout. “Well, maybe not tonight, but tomorrow for sure. It’s okay that I’m vegetarian, right?”

Jason nods slowly. “I’ll let the chef know. If you have any other restrictions or whatever, then just tell me. Okay?”

“Okay.”

We spend a long second staring at each other, Jason lingering in the doorway, me not quite sure whether it’s appropriate to start decorating with him standing there.

Eventually, he’s the one to break the silence. “Well, I’m going to go to the gym for a bit, but then I’ll be in my living quarters if you want me. Feel free to explore the house if you want. As I say, it’s all yours now.”

He chuckles awkwardly to himself, and I feel like I’m suffocating from how tense the situation is. This is nothing like the easy conversation we had that first night.

This is strained, stunted. It’s like being dumped in a foreign country and realizing you don’t speak a single word of the language.

Finally, at last, he seems to get the message and excuses himself.

No doubt he has a gym in a basement here somewhere, and a live-in personal trainer, but I don’t ask any further questions about it. I will not be going to the gym anytime soon, so I don’t care.

Once he’s gone, I let out a big sigh. The rhythm of unpacking has been interrupted, so I decide to do it later and take the opportunity of him being contained in one room to explore the house a bit further. I wander back along the corridor that took me to my own private quarters and out into the huge atrium that leads to the front door.

The floors are marble, or something that looks like marble anyway, and the walls are decorated with a tasteful wallpaperin a subtle pattern. Everything is color-matched. Every single thing.

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