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Right Billionaire, Wrong Wedding (Sexy Billionaires)(50)



But it did.

Lifting her chin, she scanned the woman from head to toe. Perfect curls framed the delicate face. A body easily four sizes smaller than hers squeezed into a stylish dress, which just had to be red. Complete with sky-high heels, the woman before her looked as opposite to Allison as one could get.

And polished in a way she could never achieve.

“Darian?” the woman asked again.

“Yes. Yes, of course. I’m sure he’s expecting you. I’ll show you in.” Show a gorgeous model into her lover’s office. Sure, she could do that.

Friends with benefits, remember? she scolded herself. It had been her idea after all. And they’d made no promises or rules. Just because she couldn’t conceive of touching anyone who wasn’t Darian didn’t mean he felt the same.

So what if last night he’d treated her to dinner? He’d probably done that and more with the woman before her.

Forcing herself to her feet, she moved around her desk with wooden steps.

“Right this way,” she said, a smile pasted on her lips.

As she led the nameless woman to Darian’s door she realized she’d assumed they’d be exclusive for however long their affair lasted. It was a foolish, naïve mistake. One she should have known better than to make. After all the years she’d spent with him, she should have realized if she ever wound up in his bed she wouldn’t be the only one there.

They reached his office and she knocked on the door before she could chicken out and run away to lick her wounds. It was her own mistaken conclusions that had led her down this road. She could face the music now and mourn later.

“Come in,” Darian called.

Opening the door, she saw him behind his desk. His head rose as she entered the room, eyes brightening for a split second.

“You have a guest,” she said, ushering the blonde beauty through the door.

He pushed to his feet.

“Darian, darling,” the blonde said, stalking forward without a backward glance at her.

His eyes flew from the model to her. “Ali—”

“I’m leaving for the day. Have a good weekend.” She shut the door before she could hear any of his excuses.

For a moment she stood with her back pressed against the door, trying to relearn how to breathe.

This was exactly what Darian had been worried about. Hell, it’s what Gillian had been worried about. That she’d get attached and think she had some claim to him that she didn’t. So what if he made a date with some other woman. So what if he slept with the blonde. He wasn’t doing anything she shouldn’t be.

She walked to Gillian’s office and pushed through the open door.

Her friend glanced up, startled. “Twice in one day?”

“Are you still going out tonight?”

Gillian grinned. “You know it. Drinking, dancing, and men. My favorite three words.”

“I’m in.”

“Really?” Brows arched high at her words. “I mean, not that I wouldn’t be thrilled to have a partner in crime, but what about Darian?”

“I’ll be there. Text me the details.”

Gillian’s surprise didn’t lessen, but she nodded in agreement. “I’ll do it right now. Wear something short and bring cash.”

“Perfect,” she said before leaving the office.

This was good. Exactly what she needed. If Darian could keep a harem then so could she. She’d have a wild night on the town and explore her options for the first time in far too long. There were more men out there than just billionaire CEOs with relationship complexes.

She’d have a great night. The fact that tears clogged her throat was completely irrelevant.



Her phone buzzed again.

“You’re not going to check your messages?” Gillian asked, a colorful straw sticking halfway out of her mouth.

“Tonight is about having fun,” she replied. “We’re having a good time, right?”

Her friend didn’t seem convinced. “Honey, right now you look like you put the fun in funeral.”

“I’m enjoying myself,” she said, grabbing her beer from the bar. It was warm, thanks to the time she’d spent nursing it. Still, she raised it to her lips and took a large gulp to prove her point.

Gillian shook her head, surveying the crowded bar.

It was rather impressive to watch Gillian in a bar. She didn’t waste her time with anyone who bored her or with anyone who had sights set on someone else. She’d dart in, strike up a conversation, and get out equally as fast if the man wasn’t filling whatever criteria was guiding her night.

Allison had sat on this same bar stool for a good two hours, watching her vivacious friend flirt her way through the male population of the room. Thanks to the redhead, neither of them had paid for a single drink all night.