Marrying My Billionaire Boss

by Lee, Nadia

  She purses her lips. “I see. Well, avoid stress as much as you can, drink plenty of fluids and remember that you’re eating for two now. A healthy mom makes a healthy baby.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I say meekly, even though I secretly think the doctor and Nate are being a little too coddling.

  “But otherwise, really, you’re fine.” She turns to Nate. “She’s fine.”

  Thank you.

  She asks me to come back in a month, reiterating that I should call if I notice anything unusual or have any questions. I put it on my calendar, and Nate and I leave together.

  “All clear,” I say with a huge smile as we’re talking toward the parking lot. “Now you don’t have to worry about anything.”

  He nods once. “That’s true.”

  “And we don’t have to, you know, limit ourselves.”

  He laughs, the sound throaty and hot. “Yes, but remember what she said about no stress and eating well.”

  “You’ll make someone a great mom,” I tease.

  Nate drives us to Sterling & Wilson’s Los Angeles building. Although my body’s still humming from the earlier orgasm and the doctor’s good news, I try to focus on work once we’re inside the office. What Nate does is so much more important than just making money. He is actually making a difference in the world. And I’m proud to be part of that.

  While Nate’s on a call, I get a padded envelope delivered to me personally from somebody named Miles Wellington in Arlington, Virginia. What’s this about? There’s a medical center funded by the family in Virginia, but I don’t know anybody named Miles Wellington there, and his address isn’t the medical center’s either.

  I open the package and a note falls out.

  I thought it prudent to return this to you.

  –M.W.

  Thinking, Return what? I shake the envelope loose.

  The thong that went missing in Vegas lands on my desk, and my heart stops for a moment. The underwear is sealed in some kind of clear plastic wrap, but it’s obvious that it’s been laundered, pressed and folded.

  Oh, crap. How the hell did it end up with… Who is this guy again? Miles Wellington?

  I lost the damn thong in Vegas. I just don’t understand how it ended up in Virginia. And how did this man I’ve never even heard of know where to send it?

  My face flames. Did he sniff it? Maybe wrap it up around his hot dog down there? Is that why he had to launder it before returning it to me?

  No. That doesn’t make any sense. Besides, why would a pervert return his plaything?

  Then my brain finally kicks in, and I realize, I have my thong on my desk at work. Shit. I shove it back into the envelope and drop everything into the bottom drawer, then look around, wondering if anybody saw anything. Seems like I’m okay. Nobody’s acting like they just witnessed scandalously embarrassing lingerie.

  I put a hand over my racing heart. Okay, so it’s not so terrible. My shame is safe. Just between me and this Miles Wellington person. Who the fuck is he?

  When it’s time for lunch, I gather my bag and get up. Nate comes out of his office with a smile that says he’s satisfied with the world.

  “Let’s go get lunch,” he says.

  “Actually, I can’t,” I say, feeling slightly bad about it.

  “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’re going to turn me down again. We’re married. It’s only right I provide you with lunch. Just because I don’t pound my chest and hunt saber-tooth tigers doesn’t mean I’ve lost all my caveman instincts.”

  I pat his pecs, not merely to soothe but because I just want to touch him. “I already told Kim I’d eat with her, and she’s not going to feel comfortable talking to me if you’re around.”

  He leans closer, the hot, woodsy scent of his cologne acting like a drug on my brain. “Are you ladies planning to talk about me?”

  “Maybe.” I give him a quick peck on the cheek, since we’re in the office, and I’m not bold enough to do a kiss on the mouth when coworkers could be watching. “I’ll have lunch with you tomorrow. I promise.”

  “Deal.” His expression grows a bit serious. “You should probably consider moving the rest of your stuff from her apartment into our place, though. Mom’s staying with Justin, and your mom’s gone, so this is the perfect time.”

  “Oh.” That’s right. I left my things there because I didn’t expect this marriage to last.

  “You can hire movers.”

  “No, no, it’s okay,” I say quickly. I’m still traumatized and confused about Miles Wellington. My psyche just can’t bear the idea of strangers pawing through my things, even if they’re paid professionals.

  “If you’re sure. Then do you want to go do it today? I don’t have any meetings for the rest of the day, and you can get it done. I don’t know who might be visiting on the weekend.”

  I nod. “Okay. If you need anything, though, call me.” Still in assistant mode.

  Nate and I go down to the lobby together. He’s holding my hand, and I let him, loving the skin-to-skin contact. Handholding isn’t that much of a public display of affection. I just don’t want to make my coworkers treat me differently because I’m Nate’s wife now (or become hyperaware of my new status), and I feel like blatant PDAs are going to be like rubbing it in. We should limit ourselves to when we’re alone or in the elevator—or in the lobby, if there aren’t many people around.

  When we step out of the elevator, I see Kim waiting. She’s in a bright, form-fitting dress you just can’t miss, and matching heels that are eye-popping. I start toward her, but Nate stops me. “Here. Treat yourselves to something nice and fancy. And take a long lunch.” Handing me his black AmEx, he kisses me, full on the mouth, with all those people milling around.

  His tongue flicks against me for a taste, and I lick him back, unable to resist. God, he tastes so good, as my body zings again. It’s such a shame to do only one lick, so I go for another, then one more.

  Finally he pulls away.

  My cheeks heat, but embarrassment is no match for the heat he elicits in me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s really an alien from Planet Sex. NASA just hasn’t discovered it yet.

  “See you later,” I say quickly, then dash toward Kim, who’s been watching us with both eyebrows raised.

  “Wow. That was something.”

  “That bad?” I ask, slightly uncomfortable, as we head toward the garage to get into her car.

  “No, but girl. He’s really into you. Everyone can see it.”

  Groaning, I place a hand over my eyes. There goes my attempt to downplay my marriage to Nate.

  “Don’t worry. You’re married. Who’s going to turn you and Nate into HR? Wannabe Unemployed ‘R’ Us?”

  “You’re not helping.”

  “No. I’m here to tell you the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Don’t tell me you can’t handle the truth.”

  I eye her. “Were you watching A Few Good Men last night?” After watching a movie or a TV show, Kim quotes it for days afterward. It can be a bit awkward when she’s been binge-watching South Park.

  “Yup. Tom Cruise was sooo delicious in that movie. He should’ve argued nude. More love from the audience.”

  We settle inside her car. She notes the plastic in my hand. “What’s that?”

  “Oh. Nate’s credit card. He gave it to me. To treat both of us to a nice lunch.”

  Kim’s eyes widen. “Wow. He gave you a Centurion Card.”

  “Eh, he’s done it before.”

  “Yeah, to get you to buy clothes to go bid on him, not to treat yourself to lunch.” She grins. “You know what this means. We should go to the bistro in the Aylster. I’ve always wanted to have lunch there, and I have the rest of the day off, so we can take our time and enjoy it. You don’t have to get back early or anything, do you?”

  “No. I have the rest of the day off too,” I say. The hotel’s probably on the pricey side, but Nate said we could treat ourselves. Plus, Kim and I haven’t gone out
like this in a while, and she was instrumental in my getting a job with Nate. Basically, if it hadn’t been for her, Nate and I wouldn’t be together now.

  “So. What’s your mom doing now that you’re both at work?” Kim asks as she pulls out.

  “She actually left yesterday. Got some stuff going on back home.”

  Even though I know she had to return to Dillington for a good reason, it does make me a bit wistful and sad that she isn’t around. I don’t know why I feel so down about it, because it isn’t like I’ve been depressed the last ten months or so I’ve been in L.A. Maybe it’s because I thought I’d get to spend more time with her, talk to her, catch up and see how she’s doing. I also want to know if there’s a way I can help her financially. The school janitorial staff doesn’t exactly pay well, and I know she’s gone without for a long time. When I told her I needed to leave town and start over, she didn’t hesitate. She only asked how much I needed, then wrote me a check without a blink. I don’t know how she was able to save up three thousand dollars, but that money didn’t come easy. I want to do something nice for her to let her know I appreciate what she’s done, although I’m not sure exactly what yet.

  Kim pats my hand. “Maybe you can go home this Christmas. It’ll be nice, you know?”

  “Yeah… I don’t know.” I think back on her tiny one-bedroom apartment. Is Nate going to want to spend time there when he could be jet-setting around Europe instead? I know he went to Bora Bora last Christmas. I heard some of my coworkers gossip about it.

  “Why not? You’ll be a free woman by then.”

  I shake my head. How things have changed over one weekend. “It’s complicated. Just park the car,” I say, since we’re pulling into the hotel. “I’ll tell you inside.”

  Kim hands her key to the valet, and we walk inside together. The hotel feels very different, now that I’m not here to bid on my boss. The lobby feels brighter, more relaxed. Even the doormen seem friendlier.

  The bistro is named Nieve. The place is white, but not in an ugly, sterile way. I don’t know exactly what the interior designer did, but the place looks wonderfully beautiful, like a proverbial winter wonderland. Or the North Pole in springtime, like I saw in a documentary once.

  The maître d’, crisp in a white uniform, comes over. “Hello, Kim. We haven’t seen you in ages.”

  “I know. I’ve been busy, trying to please my boss.” She grins. “Can you manage a table for me and my friend here?”

  “Not for Salazar and Ceinlys?”

  “Not this time. It’s finally just me and my friend. I’ve always wanted to actually eat here, you know.”

  The man looks at me, and recognition flickers in his eyes. “We always have a table for you and Mrs. Sterling. This way.” He leads us into the restaurant.

  My mouth forms an O. “How did he know me like that?” I whisper in Kim’s ear.

  “It’s his job to know.”

  “Sorta creepy…”

  “Hey, price you pay for marrying a man like Nate Sterling. Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it.”

  I’m dubious. I’m not so crazy about people recognizing me this easily. It probably means I won’t even be able to use a public bathroom, ever, especially if I’m feeling extra gassy. I should also find a way to pee silently. Otherwise who knows what’s going to make it into the tabloids?

  The man takes us to a beautifully set table for two. A slim vase of two white orchids with the lightest hint of pink on the ends of the petals sits in the center. Another person comes out to pull out my chair as the maître d’ does the same for Kim.

  “If you need anything, just let your server know. Enjoy,” the maître d’ says, then leaves.

  I pick up the ivory leather-bound menu. As I read the lunch options, I can sense hives breaking out over me. “The cheapest lunch here costs, like, a billion dollars,” I say, squirming at the idea of spending that kind of money. Nate’s money. Technically I guess it could be called our money, because we’re married, but it just feels really awkward.

  “Only a hundred, including two mimosas per person.” Kim’s tone contains a shrug.

  “Um. Wasted on me.”

  “Why? They use good bubbly for their mimosas, unlike some shitty places.”

  “Because I can’t drink right now.” I close the menu. “I’m pregnant.”

  Kim gapes, then covers her mouth with a hand. “Are you serious?” she asks, her voice hushed. “Is it Nate’s?”

  “Of course it’s Nate’s!” How can she doubt me when Nate didn’t? Then I remember telling her I didn’t sleep with him. Okay, maybe she’s a little confused, just like I was.

  “Sorry, I thought… I mean, I knew you weren’t dating, but you said your marriage to Nate had to end. I thought that meant a clean break.”

  “It’s really complicated…” I trail off as our server appears with a pitcher of citrus water.

  As if he can sense we’re in a rather urgent private conversation, he doesn’t spend too much time being chatty. Instead, he introduces himself, asks us if we need more time, pours the water, then takes our lunch order. Kim orders for both of us because I can’t even choose from all the hundred-dollar-plus options.

  “She’s pregnant,” Kim tells him. “Can you prepare something special for her, non-alcoholic, instead of the mimosas?”

  “Certainly. It’ll be our pleasure.” He turns to me. “Any allergies?”

  “No,” I say. “But I really like kale and broccoli.”

  “Lovely. I’ll make note of that.”

  Meanwhile, Kim looks at me like I’m an alien queen occupying her friend’s body. “Who are you? Or more like, what’s happened to you? You hate broccoli.”

  “Yeah, but now that I’m pregnant, I love it. And kale.”

  “Oh wow. So you really are pregnant. I can’t decide which is worse: craving canned tuna, or kale and broccoli.”

  “Canned tuna?” Just the thought… Ugh. “Who craved that?”

  “Some dumb kid in high school,” she says, her voice suddenly cold and edged. It’s her “I want to rip somebody’s face off” tone, and I can never be sure if she’s going to be okay with me probing too hard when she uses it. Best not to go there.

  “Anyway, I even had the same shake Nate had this morning,” I say.

  Kim shudders. “That’s beyond gross. I’m sure he enjoyed it, though.”

  “He did. I was pleased about that. Do you think I’ll get used to the taste and continue to drink it after the baby’s born?”

  Pure horror crosses her face. “Good God, I hope not…but I don’t know. I’ve never had a baby.” She props her chin in her hand, her elbow on the table. “So. This baby means no divorce? Barron didn’t pressure you or anything, did he?”

  “No, no need to worry. It’s just Nate’s and my decision. We’re going to work things out. And, you know, he really is a great guy.”

  “Uh-huh. That isn’t the only reason you’re staying with him,” she says. “I bet he looks even better totally nude.”

  My cheeks flame as my mind conjures up what he did to me in the shower.

  She points and giggles. “Oh my God. Look at you blush. So adorable!”

  “Oh, shut up.” Thankfully, our server brings a mimosa and a green smoothie, plus our salads and an appetizer platter of white fish, smoked salmon, pâté and minced olives.

  She picks up her mimosa. “To your happy life with Nate.”

  We clink glasses. “Thank you. To a happy ending for you, too.”

  She gives me a warm smile, and we drink. As I down the refreshing shake, I remember the thong incident. I put my glass down and lean closer. “Okay, something totally crazy happened at work. Tell me what you think.”

  “Sure.”

  I go through the story of how I lost my thong in Vegas, and then magically had it delivered to me via one Miles Wellington today. “What do you think it means? This guy actually mailed the thing. Weird much?”

  She takes her time before answering. “I thin
k you’re lucky it didn’t get lost in the mail, because that would’ve been really awkward.”

  “How?” I ask, slightly annoyed she’s latching on to the most pointless aspect. “I wouldn’t have known he sent it, so there wouldn’t have been any problem.”

  “Yeah, until he asked you about it.”

  Huh? “Kim, I don’t know this guy. We’ve never met.”

  She gives me a perplexed look. “Sure you do. I mean, okay, maybe not in person, but you know who he is.”

  “I really don’t.”

  “Evie, come on. He’s Barron Sterling’s personal assistant.”

  Thank God I don’t have anything in my mouth. Even so, I gasp, feeling like I’m choking. Finally I recover. “Are you kidding?”

  “Not even a little. How can you not know who he is, especially if you’re working for Sterling & Wilson?”

  “But why does Barron need an assistant?” I demand, utterly scandalized. “He’s retired!”

  I put it together. The only way Miles could have ended up with my thong is if it somehow got stuck to Barron’s butt in Vegas. Talk about embarrassing! And I was wondering if he wrapped my thong around his junk when he was…doing the thing. My mind starts painting images I can’t un-see. I think I’m going to throw up.

  “Because he doesn’t like to do things himself when he can simply delegate.”

  Makes sense. Barron’s too rich to do anything himself. But that doesn’t mean all is fine. “Why didn’t anybody tell me who Miles was?”

  “Did you ask?” Kim says, arching an eyebrow.

  “Of course not. I’d never heard of the man until today.”

  “Well, there you go.”

  I give up. Her logic is circular. “All right. Well, anyway, now that you know all about my married life and undergarments, tell me about what’s going on with you. I remember you saying you were setting up some special getaway for your boss. Did he finally accept your proposal?”

  The moment I ask, I know I’ve made a mistake. Her face goes glacial, eyes flashing evil intent. What did Salazar do? Make her redo the proposal yet again?

  She attacks a hapless little leaf on her plate viciously. “I did, and he loved it. So he decided to give me a month off.”