Page 54 of The Billionaire's Fake Fiancée

Nala claps. “Love it!”

The other women are smiling at me.

“And my douchey date is like, wuuuut?” Tabitha continues, looking into my eyes. “And so cool and calm, Rex goes, ‘If you touch her again, I will rearrange your face like a marble cake.’”

I narrow my eyes. Amarble cake?What man says that? “Are you sure I said marble cake?”

“Oh yes. It’s what you said.” She beams at me. “It was amazing.”

My blood races. Something that’s not exactly annoyance rises up in me. I want everybody gone. Except Tabitha. Marble cake? This is what she came up with? But it’s not just about the marble cake.

I slide a knuckle across her jawbone, wanting to, I don’t know what—take back control of the situation. Engage with her. Prod her.

“And the douche backs off,” she says, gazing into my eyes. “He’s mumbling something jerky, like, ‘she’s not all that.’ And Rex growls, like, a dangerous growl, and the guy is out of there so fast, it was kind of hilarious. One growl from Rex and the douche is out of there like a bullet.”

“I love that!” Nala exclaims.

“Rearrange his face like amarble cake,” Kitty says.

“Right?” Tabitha says brightly. She goes on to weave a tale of how we had drinks followed by a midnight walk in the park, and then I’d brought her home and kissed her on her doorstep, the perfect gentleman. The next day the flowers started coming.

You couldn’t invent a more girly story.

“How long were you going out before you got engaged?” Marvin asks.

I turn to him. “Long enough.” Does Tabitha have that timeline worked out? Maybe it was in her ridiculous questionnaire. Which I clearly should’ve taken more seriously.

“We’d known each other two years, after all,” Tabitha says. “When Rex decides he wants something, there’s no stopping him.”

“Yet you decided to keep it a secret…” Marvin says.

I give him a cool look.

“My request,” Tabitha says.

“What made you change your mind?” Marvin asks. “I mean, here you are going pretty public and all…” He gestures at Nala with her camera.

I focus more directly on Marvin now. These questions are starting to feel like a power play. “It was time,” I say simply. I keep my gaze on him, square on the bull’s-eye of his face until he looks away.

Eventually dessert is served, buffet-style, and we’re released from the hell of the table only to go to the hell of the dessert buffet line.

The cookies are a huge hit. Everybody’s photographing them and photographing each other eating them. I grab a cup of coffee while Tabitha loads up a plate with every type of dessert.

We stake out near a ledge next to the piano player. A nice, visible spot where everybody can see us being out and about, hopefully buying myself a lot of cave time in the room.Here we are after dinner, folks.

Tabitha sets her loaded-down plate on the ledge next to my coffee.

“Maybe you should’ve just pulled up a chair to the buffet,” I say.

Tabitha snorts in her classicOh, Rex!way and takes a bite of cookie.

I glance over at Marvin, across the room. “Sitting next to you? Does he have a fucking death wish? Did he actually think I’d let that happen?”

“I know. The way he was grilling us? He is completely suspicious of our engagement.”

“The man is fixated on you,” I bite out with maybe more force than necessary, but I’m imagining him doing some kind of pass-the-butter tit feel, and it’s overriding my rational brain. “Account or no, one move and Iwillrearrange his smarmy little face.” I look down at her sparkling eyes. “And for the record, we’re talking ground chuck, not marble cake.”

She grins at me. She might be the only person in the world to have such an idiotic reaction when I’m annoyed. “Ground chuck would’ve been better.”

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