The Billionaire’s Betrothed(9)

"I suppose we have a wedding to plan." I laughed, unable to stop the swell of manic giggles that surged up inside of me.

I laughed so hard it hurt, I laughed so hard that tears welled up in my eyes. I laughed at the utter ridiculousness of this situation. I laughed at both of our desperations.

But it was the first time I'd laughed all year.





Chapter Five





I won't have to sleep in this cot for long, I pondered, as I settled down that evening.

I pulled the scratchy quilt up to my chin, staring up at the darkness that was my ceiling. Every now and then I could hear a lonely car whir down the small street outside the bakery. Most of the time, however, I heard nothing at all.

At night, this part of the town seemed to totally shut down. No people wandered from cafe to cafe, there were no hotels for anyone to visit. I didn't even think any of the shops were open past seven in the evening.

Though it seemed contrary to business to me, the stillness was what my parents had loved about this street. They loved that it was so small, so family oriented. They loved that they didn't have to worry about loiterers at night or solicitors at day.

I would have loved either of those, honestly. It would show at least a tiny morsel of interest in my lonesome building. But not even the homeless people thought the shade of my canopies were worthy.

I rolled onto my side, looking at the closed office door. Behind it rest the sleeping stove of the bakery, where the scent of cookies still lingered.

Had the last two days really happened? Was I having some insane dream? Was I going crazy?

It certainly felt like it.

I was getting married.

My parents had never thought that day would come. I was grateful I didn't have to explain to them why it was finally happening. Not for love, but for monetary gain.

Would we live together? Would he visit me? Did he expect me to be a homemaker?

...Did he expect children?

I swallowed nervously, squeezing my eyes shut in an attempt to relax. Why hadn't I thought to ask him any of this?

All that I had heard was 'I'll help your shop!' in that sweet, deep British voice of his, and I'd all but swooned at his feet.

I was a weakling for a handsome face, I suppose.

With a groan, I tugged the blanket up over my face, leaving my toes exposed to the chill of the night air.

I only had two more weeks to get all of this straightened out. Hopefully I wouldn't come to regret my decision.

How strange, that we would cross paths at such a time. Sebastian Davis needed me, and I certainly needed him.

Should I be grateful that I'd received such a bountiful and beautiful gift of a man just when I needed it? Maybe I did have a guardian angel after all.

I snuggled the pillow under my head just a bit closer, curling up into a tight ball.

Despite the force with which I closed my eyes once more, I did not seem to ever fall into a fitful sleep.

The next morning, I was awoken to the jingling of my shop door.

Had I forgotten to lock it again? That was a nasty habit of mine, I was basically looking to get robbed.

No worry crossed my mind though. No doubt it was Sebastian looking for either a pre-nup or a cookie.

I slid from the bed, rubbing a tired hand over groggy eyes as I stumbled out from the office.

"Sebastian, why are you here so early..." I began, trailing off as I took in the sight of the gorgeous redheaded woman in front of me.

"Macy Brooks, I presume?" She asked, her tone all business as she tapped away at the smartphone in her hand. Her dark lined eyes barely glanced away from the lit up screen.

I stared at her in awe, wondering just how many more beautiful people were going to wander into my life.

"I...er-yes." I finally managed to stutter out, pulling the hem of my cozy t-shirt I'd been sleeping in just a bit lower.

"Alissa Grant." She replied, almost extending a hand before pulling it back against her body.

Apparently I didn't look clean enough to shake hands with.

She smoothed her fiery locks back against her head with pink coated nails, her matching glossy lips smacking as she took in the sight of my shop.

"Well, we have a lot of work to do here, don't we?" She sighed, tapping a black heeled foot on the ground.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, still hazy from sleep and confusion.

"Do you sleep here?" She asked, suddenly awestruck, lightly pushing past me as she poked her head into the back office where my mussed cot still lay, "That won't do at all."

The soft flowery scent of expensive perfume wafted after her as she inspected the corners of the bakery.

"I’m sorry." I finally said, holding up my hands in utter defeat, "I have no idea who you are or why you're here."

"Alissa Grant." She repeated, again almost holding out her hand, "I'm here to remodel for you."