Page 24 of Her Billion Dollar Groom

More than anything, I think she didn’t want to go alone but didn’t know how to ask me to go with her. For her, this is asking nicely.

Little does she know that all she would have needed to say was please.

We’re in this together, and that means that for every photo shoot that I don’t like doing, I can cope with a party for her. Besides, I feel more comfortable around strangers in a bar than I do under the blaring lights of a camera. Fractionally, anyway.

Eliza is sticking to me like glue this evening, like I’m a shield she’s holding. I’ve noticed a couple of people looking at her. I’ve certainly noticed a couple of men leering over her, looking like they want to let their hands wander, their mouths open like they’re ready to let some foolish comment slip out. I’ve given them all a stern glare to try and put them off that idea.

So far, it’s working.

As far as these people know or care, I am Eliza’s husband. That means she’s mine.

I never used to think I was a particularly possessive person. But seeing the way that some men drool over my wife — real or imagined — is making my hackles rise. Hell, I know she’s attractive, but couldn’t they at least have the decency to keep those thoughts to themselves for her sake, if not for mine? Don’t these people have any shame?

Now that we’ve escaped the main party, though, people have more or less backed off. We danced until I got tired (so, for about five minutes) and then Eliza suggested we go and sit at the bar to mingle.

I think we’re both a lot more comfortable over here, where people are chatting more casually instead of dancing and drinking and going wild. For my whole life, I’ve been called boring because I don’t particularly enjoy going wild.

Right now, boring seems like the best choice I could be making.

“Hey, Lizzy,” comes a shrill voice from behind us. We both turn around to see two people beaming at us. One is a short, campy-looking guy in a bright blue suit, and the other is a girl with tight black ringlets and a dress that barely covers the tops of her thighs.

I look away from her legs politely, deciding it’s not my place to judge. We are at a celebrity party, after all. This is the kind of thing that people do here.

“Oh, my God,” says the guy, launching forward to kiss her on the cheek. “So this is Jason?” He slaps both hands to his cheeks and beams at me. “What a cutie!”

“A businessman, though,” sneers the girl. “You could do better than that, couldn’t you? So much for down with capitalist empires, yeah?”

Eliza blushes slightly, and I grimace at them both. “Good to meet you,” I say, standing up and holding out my hand. They both shake it. “Are you friends of Eliza?”

“I’m Max,” says the guy. “This is Lauren. I’m a talent agent and?—”

Lauren cuts him off. “And I have been one of Lizzie’s support singers for years. Haven’t seen you in ages though, hon. How are you doing?”

“Great,” Eliza says, tucking her hair behind her ear. Tonight she’s looking gorgeous too, wearing a green dress with puffy sleeves, and stockings that glitter. Even in my new, so-called fashionable wardrobe, I feel out of place here.

“An agent,” I say, jumping in before they can say anything else. “So you must be looking to sign a young, beautiful, talented singer like Eliza?”

He giggles but shakes his head. “Lizzie knows I love her, but her brand is not quite right for my block of business. Shocking, wasn’t it, what happened with that manager.”

“Did you not know at all?”

“None of us had any idea,” says Lauren. “You know, the rumor was that you were sleeping with him, which I always said was so ridiculous and totally not like my Lizzie, but you never know with these things.”

“So true,” Max chips in. “You have no idea how many people have offered to sleep with me for some sort of deal. It’s just one of those things that happens in our industry.”

“Eliza has more integrity than that, though,” I scoff, pushing my shoulders back as if to form a defensive wall. I’m not entirely happy with the way they’re both talking about her.

Max backs off immediately. “For sure, for sure, I would never have believed that kind of thing about her. But people talk, you know…”

“Lizzie, did you know that some people are claiming that you only married Jason for the money?” Lauren reaches out and touches Eliza on the arm, and I see Eliza flinch like Lauren’s putting out a cigarette on her skin.

“That’s ridiculous,” I protest, trying to draw attention away from Eliza again. “Why would she have done that? Just because her manager stole all her money doesn’t mean she’s not perfectly capable of looking after herself. We’re married for love. You can tell everyone that.”

Eliza blinks at me, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly open, like she’s shocked that I’m saying these things. If I’m honest, I’m shocked to hear the words come out of my mouth too, but I can’t stand the way these people are treating her like a commodity.

“Swoon!” says Max, pressing his hand to his chest. “Where can I find a guy who loves me this much?”

“One doesn’t exist,” says Lauren, rolling her eyes, and the two dissolve into giggles.

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