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Accidentally Married to the Billionaire 3(35)



“Maybe you should look into more volunteer work. You were happier when you worked with the kids.”

“You’re right. Sitting around here is getting boring,” she said. “Although, Paul is booking me all up with cocktail parties and fancy luncheons. Soon, I’ll be missing all my time here.”

“You don’t have to sit there, although the place isn’t exactly lacking in amenities, you must admit.”

“My gilded cage is lovely,” she said. “Thank you.”

“It’s midcentury modern,” he said, an effort to make her smile. She didn’t crack even a smirk. His face filled her phone screen, clearly frustrated that his repair attempt had failed.

“It’s completely unfair that you’re so gorgeous even when you’re a pain in the ass,” she mused, trying to muster her old teasing demeanor with him, the one she’d used to keep him at arm’s length until she accidentally fell in love with him.

“Remember that’s when Tinder beckons.”

“I’m off Tinder. Shut down my profile and everything. So you can quit needling me about that one time I went off the rails,” she said.

“I feel like there should be a celebration…What’s the name for the observance when your wife finally cancels her dating profiles?”

“I think it’s officially called getting your ass home from Dubai,” she deadpanned.

“Speaking of asses, Dubai is a pain in mine right now. These guys do not want to honor the terms of our deal. Also, they put curry in absolutely everything. Your omelet sounded like heaven by comparison.”

“Are you whining about the first class accommodations in Dubai? Some people would love to get the food you’re blessed with.”

“Fine, you win. I’m sorry, honey. I shouldn’t have made the crack about the SNAP card. The curry is truly in everything here.”

“The green tea ice cream was, as I recall, fabulous.”

“There’s probably curry in that, too,” he said.

“You’re a total wimp. I don’t know why I bother missing you.”

“Thick wrists,” he said with a cheeky grin.

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t know since your wrists are seldom home.”

“I’m going to try to do better with the scheduling. Make it home at least once a week for dinner, take a day off on the weekends.”

“Wow! I might see you for an entire day? A seventh of your waking hours each week? That’s, wow, like fourteen point two percent of your time! Hashtag ‘spoiled wife,’” she said.

“Snarktastic after that omelet, aren’t we?”

“Absolutely. So the deal is, I’m not happy being canceled on and ignored. I get that the whole arrangement was about your business and your needs and your convenience, but I’m a person, too, and I have agency. I have chosen to throw my lot in with you, and I will not accept the table scraps. You can make time to show up for me. No excuses. You don’t tell the board of directors that you’re too busy, so don’t tell me that either. I’m knitted to your soul. Just ask Elvis.”

He laughed.

She loved hearing his glorious laugh.

“It isn’t that easy,” he said. “If you’d be reasonable for a second, you’d realize that I’m not ignoring you, I’m trying to strike a delicate balance between the demands of my job and my personal life.”

“Best I can tell, your job IS your personal life, and your professional life and everything else. Your spirituality and self-actualization and probably your sexual preference.”

“I think we’ve established my sexual preference pretty clearly. If you’re confused about it…”

“Then I should call your secretary and make an appointment? Because that’s next. A standing lunch meeting with me. An established dinner-at-home or dinner out once a week. With me. Not me AND some business associates so you can sneak in a meeting. Just the two of us. And one day on the weekend. Minimum. Two weekday meals plus one weekend day with no conference calls, Skypes, or meetings. Those are my terms, and they’re very generous. I haven’t asked you to change the hours you keep, be home before midnight, nothing like that. I’m asking for a couple of hours twice a week, and one day. It may not amount to much, but it’s necessary to maintain what we have.”

“I’ll think about it and refer to my schedule, see what can be done. I expect some weeks I can manage that, while others, due to travel or pending deals I wouldn’t be able to meet those terms.”

“Is that what you tell Dubai? That you may or may not be able to keep to your terms depending upon what week it is? Bullshit, Brandon. You’re hedging because you don’t want to commit. News flash. You already committed. In Las Vegas. So you’re going to have to make a real, tangible effort to have a relationship with me EVERY SINGLE FUCKING WEEK or we might as well call it quits and let Lena have it all. I no longer much care who gets the company. It’s a thorn in my side, which is the only thing I may ever agree on with your stepmother. Power Regions is a selfish bitch.”