Accidentally Married to the Billionaire 1(39)
“I have never heard anyone be so flippant.”
“Piss you off?”
“No, the opposite in fact. I’m not sure if you noticed yet, but I tend to take everything seriously, myself most of all. So you’re the antidote—infuriatingly flippant. I can’t say I dislike it, Marjorie,” he said with an unexpected grin.
“Oof,” she huffed, “You have to give me a warning when you’re gonna smile like that. Knocks the wind right out of me. I could fall over in front of the media and then there’d be a rumor that I’m drunk,” she said.
“Is that your trademarked flippancy telling me you find me attractive?”
“Yes. Now enough with the crooked smile, hot guy. A girl has got to eat her dessert for breakfast, because once vacation’s over, it’s gym time and I have a boot camp class calling my name!”
“We have a gym at home. Basically any machine you could want,” he said smugly.
“Right, so is there a hot yoga instructor and a trainer there who shames me until I complete thirty reps? Because if not, I’m going to sit on those machines and drink milkshakes and call it working out. I have to have the motivation, by which I mean I need peer pressure and someone to yell at me.”
“If you prefer the gym, sweetie, then go to the gym,” he said as he returned his attention to his laptop.
“But do I have to leave the gym looking like a Kardashian with my giant designer handbag and my dumbass platform sneakers?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, so I’ll answer in the negative. No, I don’t encourage you to wear giant dumbass things,” he said.
“Good. Because I’m more of a Taylor Swift type, leave the gym with sunglasses and red lipstick and a kick ass crop top.”
“Kick ass. Not dumb ass. Right,” he said.
“You are so not listening to me!” she laughed, finishing up her dessert, “What time do we leave?”
“At eleven. And this evening, we’re meeting my stepmother for dinner.”
Her eyebrows shot up in astonishment.
“An audience with the Wicked Queen? Remind me not to eat any apples. I am, after all, her successor. The newest Mrs. Cates. That makes her, like, the Dowager Wicked Queen and I’m the Wicked Princess, which sounds younger and prettier.”
“You blow her out of the water,” he said.
She smiled. “Thank you.”
“Think you can handle her?”
“You bet. So what am I wearing to meet the WQ?”
“Anything you like.”
“Do I have time to go shopping again? Or should I recycle the sexy, black and gold number from last night?”
“I can have my assistant call Nieman Marcus. They’ll send some dresses over for you to choose from. Don’t stress. We have people, Marj,” he said with a sexy grin.
“Oh, people. How could I forget?” she said.
True to his word, Brandon mobilized an assistant and within the hour, Marj had half a dozen wardrobe choices in the suite. She modeled them one by one for a mostly oblivious Brandon who favored her with the occasional glimpse away from his computer screen. When he acknowledged the red dress with a half-second more of his attention, she did a fist pump of victory.
“I knew it! I knew there was a two blink dress in that pile somewhere!”
“What are you talking about?”
“When you don’t care, you barely look up. But this time, you looked at me long enough to blink twice, which is by far the most undivided attention you’ve favored me with. It must be a knockout,” she teased.
“I’m not used to working with distractions in the room,” he hedged.
“Well, I plan to be plenty distracting. So if you need a few minutes on your own to accomplish something, you’d better tell me straight out. Otherwise I’m going to torment you with shoe choices. Are you sure I shouldn’t wear the white one? It’s got that bridal vibe.”
“The white one has a high neck. I recommend showing off your assets. This one flaunts. I think meeting my esteemed stepmother is the perfect occasion to flaunt. In fact, the more fabulous you look, the more Botox injections she’ll demand tomorrow at the dermatologist,” he said.
“You’re positively evil. So, should I toss some glitter on my cleavage to make sure she looks? We could send subliminal boob job messages to her. Because mine are original,” she said.
“Hers are aftermarket accessories, I’m sorry to say. They didn’t show up until her third anniversary with my dad. I’m not sure if they were a present from him or for him. I prefer not to think about it too closely,” Brandon grimaced.