Page 16 of Her Billion Dollar Groom

There are frames on the walls - family photos and some souvenirs from vacations and presumably his childhood. But there’s not a speck of dust on any of it. There’s no indication that time passes here. It is cute to see his family, though, and they’re all smiling. It adds a personal touch to what is otherwise an incredibly well-curated home. It makes him seem like he has a heart.

I wander through his living room, his dining room, say hello to his cleaner, to his chef, his valet. He has everything and everyone a person could ever want.

I’m exploring one of the upstairs floors, near to where I presume his bedroom is, when I bump into Jason again. “Eliza,” he says with a smile. “You finding everything okay?”

“I’m just being nosy,” I confess with a giggle. He nods, his face dispassionate. “How was the gym?”

“Good,” he says, and that’s when I notice he’s dressed down. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him in jeans and a T-shirt. I would have thought he’d look at my own idea of casual dress and think I was a slob, but seeing him like this reminds me that he’s a real person as much as I am. “What’s your plan for the evening?”

“I don’t know. Wander around, sleep. Get dinner.”

“I usually watch TV between seven and eight,” he says. “You’re welcome to join me.”

“Do you have everything planned out like that?” I ask, half-joking until I notice his serious expression.

“I find routines beneficial to brain function. Having a rigid plan makes you more efficient.”

“Guess that’s why you’re so successful.” I giggle, trying desperately to make it into a joke again, but he still doesn’t smile. The mood is quickly going south, so I sense it’s time to make my escape. “Well, I’ll just go then.”

“Let me come with you,” he says, quickly taking a step as if to block the passage.

“It’s okay,” I say. “I can look after myself.”

“I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.”

And although I’m sure that’s true, the way he says it comes across less as caring, and more as overbearing.

“You can trust me in your house, you know,” I joke and then grimace as I realize that was the wrong thing to say.

“I do trust you.” He frowns. “Of course I do. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to be alone somewhere strange and new.”

It’s sweet, in a way, but I don’t need a babysitter. “I’m just going to go back to my room and watch TV, I think.” He opens his mouth, but before he can say “I’ll come with you” I shake my head. “I’m going to go alone, if that’s okay.”

His lips waver and if he wasn’t being so annoying, I would worry that I had upset him. “Okay,” he says. “But dial one on the intercom if you need me. I’ll come straight away, or send someone, or?—”

“I’ll see you later, Jason,” I cut him off, pushing past him. I force myself to keep breathing as I walk away, clenching my fist to stop myself from looking over my shoulder.

It’s amazing how he’s managing to make such a big house feel so tiny.

I don’t belong here, and I’m starting to worry that he doesn’t want me here at all either.

CHAPTER 11

JASON

The first night of having Eliza in my house is blissful. I don’t get the feeling that she’s entirely comfortable, so I try my best to dote on her and make sure she has everything she could possibly need. She declines to have dinner with me that night, and I understand. I figure she’s probably tired. I would be if I’d just moved.

The next day, I hardly see her.

A few times I walk all the way up to her door, but I always hesitate before knocking, and each time I force myself to walk away. She’s entitled to her personal space. Plus, I have work to do.

I lock myself away in my home office and do my best not to think about the beautiful woman in my house, or how I’m going to be calling her my wife for the next twelve months.

To my delight, we share dinner that evening, and conversation isn’t difficult. We’re exactly as comfortable with each other as we were the first night we met, and any fear I had that this might have been a huge mistake starts to dissipate.

We part ways after dinner. I say good night and drift off into a peaceful sleep.

Peaceful, that is, until I’m awoken at 2:40 AM by the sound of soprano high notes, thumping bass and squealing - not usual in my house.

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