by Alina Jacobs
It would probably ruin things with Ivy, but then, it hadn’t seem like she cared to actually date me or have a relationship with me. It was clear to me, though, that I had fallen for her. Even if it ruined my own happiness, I should sacrifice that to save Ivy. Wasn’t that what you did when you loved someone?
“Evan!” a nasal feminine voice brayed from my office doorway. “How’s my future hubby?” Camilla said, skipping over to me then sprawling onto my lap.
“I’ve been planning our new wedding,” she told me, trailing her fingers around the edge of my hairline. “I think we should have a destination wedding. We could go to Ireland. You can buy me a castle, and we can host the wedding there.”
My mouth was a thin line, and I realized there was no way in hell I could even pretend to be in a relationship with Camilla.
My ex-fiancée must have interpreted my silence as agreement, because she continued, “I told Daddy about how you’ve been carrying on with that wedding planner who ruined our wedding. You have to stop seeing the little hussy immediately. That means you have to cut her off right now. Fire her from Imogen’s wedding. She can’t be in the bridal party. She can’t come over to your house, and I want to watch you call her and tell her you were just using her.”
I laughed in Camilla’s face. It came out rough and harsh, and I roughly pushed her off of me, causing her to shriek as I stood up.
“You think you’re going to sit here and threaten me?” I said to her coldly. “Ivy is better than you—she’s prettier than you, nicer than you, more ambitious than you, smarter than you, a better friend, a better lover, a better partner. I fully intend to make her my wife. I, of course, don’t want you at our wedding, but Ivy’s much classier than me, so I’m sure you’ll receive an invitation. Now I want that engagement ring back.” I held my hand out to her.
“This was a gift!” she exclaimed, jerking her hand back.
“It was a conditional gift, assuming we were going to get married. You entered that contract under false pretenses. Therefore, you forfeit the right to the jewelry. I want it back, and I want you out of my condo. If you do not vacate, you will be thrown out. You’ve already been served an eviction notice. I’m sure your father won’t appreciate it if a scene is made. If I’m not mistaken, the fact that you can no longer raid my bank accounts means that you are completely dependent on him.”
Camilla’s face twisted up into a scowl. “I hate you!” she screeched and twisted her ring off and threw it at me. It bounced off the glass behind me and clattered to the floor. “You can’t do this to me. We’re getting back together, one way or the other. I’m telling Daddy about this!”
She stormed out the door, and for the first time since I’d proposed to Camilla, I finally felt the burden of her lift off of me.
My phone beeped, and I grinned when I saw Ivy’s name pop up.
Ivy: I’m at your sister’s with the wedding dress.
Ivy: The concierge let me into your penthouse. Mika’s not answering my texts, but I need someone to confirm that they have received the dresses.
Evan: I confirm.
Ivy: Wait you have to see a picture first.
I was half looking out the window, my mind spinning about how to solve the real estate problem, when the picture came in. At first, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Ivy was wearing nothing but lacy white ruffly lingerie. The white panties-and-bra set accentuated her curves, and the lace gave me small peeks of her pink nipples and the slit between her legs. My pants were uncomfortably tight.
Ivy: Oops that wasn’t the dress.
Ivy: Here’s the dress.
A photo of Imogen’s wedding dress appeared on my phone.
Evan: Then what was that?
Ivy: It’s bridal lingerie. Sorry I forgot you don’t like weddings.
Evan: … I’ll like weddings a lot more if you’re going to show up wearing that.
Evan: Is this a subtle hint that you’d like to be the future Mrs. Harrington?
Ivy: I’m not saying I’m getting ready to plan a thousand-person wedding where everyone gets a unicorn, but I would like to try to see where you and me go.
I leaned against my desk, a grin spreading across my face. Ivy wanted me, not just for sex, though my dick did like that part of our arrangement. No, she wanted me in her life. Then I froze. She wasn’t going to want me once she realized I was evicting her.
You can fix this; you’re smart, and you’re a billionaire. Get it together, I told myself as I quickly ran a program to pull all the property data and owner records from the parcels that would help connect the development to the HighLine trail.
Most of them were owned by random LLCs. I ran another program to match the LLCs with their owners. Only two parcels came back as promising leads. They were even right next to Ivy’s apartment, so we would basically be shifting the connection over a parcel. It was perfect. I sent them over to Greg.
Evan: Would these work in exchange for Ivy’s building?
Greg: Yes. If you can secure those parcels in the next few days, your girlfriend can keep that roach-infested hovel.
Fortunately, I knew exactly which company owned the land.
The Holbrook Enterprises tower was a few streets up from the Svensson Investment tower. Wes Holbrook was waiting for me in his office.
“I thought the Svenssons would have instructed you not to speak to me,” Wes remarked, shaking my hand and motioning me to sit.
“I think you’re the one Holbrook they can actually stand,” I told him with a laugh.
“Speaking of the Svenssons,” I said. “Against the advice of those with better judgment, I am involved in a land deal with them.”
Wes swore when I gave him the rundown on what had happened with Camilla and her father and the property.
“I knew the Svenssons were cold-blooded, but they’re just going to kick your girlfriend out of her house?”
“They already started the eviction proceedings,” I said grimly. “I need to offer them a different property. I know you own two of the adjacent ones to the development. I’ll literally pay whatever you want for them.”
Wes waved me away. “I’ll take fair market value. They are too small to do much with. And besides,” he grinned happily. “My girlfriend Liz is pregnant!”
I clapped him on the shoulder. “Congrats, man, that’s amazing!”
He shushed me. “I haven’t told everyone yet. Liz wants to be engaged before she tells people and then married before the baby comes.”
“Oof,” I said, “You’re on a tight timeline.”
“Exactly. And she wants Weddings in the City to put on her wedding. Apparently, she ate some of that cake before Camilla smashed all of it and has been craving it ever since. She wants me to buy her a whole one that she can eat at her leisure. She also will periodically look at the gift bags that were given out with all the handmade candles, soaps, and whatnot, and cry because it’s so adorable. If Ivy gets evicted, Liz is going to be furious. She’s going to want everything as relaxing and perfect as possible, and a stressed-out, homeless wedding planner is not in the plan.”
“Ivy wouldn’t be homeless. I wouldn’t allow that to happen,” I said, eyes narrowed.
“Dude, if Ivy finds out your hands were in that shit pie, she’s going to have your balls,” Wes warned. “I’ll call the lawyers this afternoon and start getting the process moving,” he continued. “Might want to get the Svenssons to hold off a bit. Just tell them this is coming. They can cool it.”
“Thanks, man,” I told him, shaking his hand. “I owe you one.”
Wes grimaced. “I may or may not be in the market for a groomsman. It depends on how many bridesmaids Liz wants. I only have three cousins, so we may need a few brave souls.”
“Hey, I have way more experience with weddings than I ever wanted!”
44
Ivy
I smiled after I finished texting with Evan. Then I screenshotted the conversation and sent it to the group chat with my frie
nds.
Ivy: Welp, guess I’m dating Evan now.
Brea: Yay! It was the magic undies.
Elsie: *Face-palm* No, she had an adult conversation with him.
Elsie: Just please do me a favor and keep this under wraps until after Imogen’s wedding certificate is signed.
Ivy: *thumbs-up emoji*
“Where is my dress?” Imogen said loudly as the front door to Evan’s condo sprang open.
“In here,” I called, thankful that I had dressed quickly. I still wore the sexy lingerie under my clothes. I had been so worried that Imogen and Mika would come back any second as I was taking the picture to send to Evan that I had put my blouse and skirt on immediately afterward. Props to Brea though, the lingerie was the most comfortable underwear I’d ever worn.
Imogen regarded the dress.
“You’re going to look stunning in that gown,” my mother assured her. “You’re going to be the best bride ever. Ivy was telling me how Evan’s doing a whole magazine issue on your wedding. You’re going to be an international star!”
Imogen basked in the fawning praise. “I will, won’t I!”
Teddy arrived, followed by the concierge and several doormen wheeling a cart with the gift-box supplies. “Look, Immie! Our goblets are here,” he said.
“Are those the ones you had made on Murano Island when you were in Venice?” Mika asked.
“It was a romantic trip, wasn’t it, Imogen?” Teddy said, leaning over to kiss her. But Imogen didn’t kiss him back. Instead, she was glaring at the champagne flutes.
“They’re just so ugly,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “The girls and I were talking about it last night, and we agreed that we cannot use the ones from Murano. Tiffanie found these at a boutique. They’re much nicer than those handmade ones,” she stated as my mom unwrapped two very nice but somewhat generic gold-monogrammed crystal champagne flutes.
“But we designed these together, Immie,” Teddy said, obviously hurt. “They are a representation of our love.”
“Yes,” Imogen said impatiently, “but look at them—they’re hideous with all the burgundy and yellow and bubbly glass. They look like a child’s project. We can’t have these on the main wedding table, especially not with the magazine editors prowling around. What would people think? No, throw them out.”
“But I want to have them,” Teddy insisted.
“I’m already giving you a cigar bar,” Imogen said, raising her voice.
“Teddy,” her mother pleaded. “Just let Immie have this one thing.”
“She gets to have everything,” Teddy snapped.
The concierge and doorman looked at me in concern as they helped me unload all the gift-box items.
“I’m starting to think this is all about you and your wedding and not what I want,” Teddy said then pointed to me. “You. Wedding planner. I want to have a table dedicated to the New York Giants, since I can’t have these goblets.”
“No!” Imogen shrieked.
“I’ve already got the seating chart finalized,” I said after a moment.
“Do them again. It’s my wedding too, and I want what I want. Put these glasses out there as well,” Teddy said, walking up to me with the goblets.
I looked to Imogen.
“Don’t you dare,” she hissed.
“You better,” Teddy warned, waving one of the twisty champagne flutes at me.
“You better step the fuck back,” Evan said, his voice a low growl from the doorway. Teddy blanched and jumped back as Evan crossed the room in long, angry strides to position himself in front of me. “Don’t come into my house and threaten my girlfriend.”
I mentally face-palmed.
This was supposed to be a secret…
“Your girlfriend?” Imogen said in horror.
“Yes,” Evan said flatly. “If you have a problem with it, then you can forget about this wedding that I am paying for.”
“You all just want to ruin things for me!” Imogen started sobbing.
“We’re all on Team Bride,” I assured her, using my best customer service voice. “This is going to be a memorable wedding.”
“That’s right! You’re giving everyone a puppy!” Evan’s stepmother reminded her daughter.
More mental face-palming.
“Let’s leave Ivy and Mika to work on the gift boxes,” Evan’s stepmother told Imogen. “You need to rest up for your bachelorette party!”
Mika and I sorted through the gift-box items after her family left. “These are going to be nice,” Mika said. She sniffed one of the candles. “These smell so yummy!”
“They’re handmade in Harrogate,” I told her. “They’re lavender and thyme.”
“Why don’t you go home, Mika?” Evan suggested.
She raised an eyebrow and looked between us. “Is any work going to get done here?”
“I can stuff gift boxes like no one’s business!” Evan said, his lower lip catching in his teeth as he winked at me. I blushed.
“If you really don’t need my help, I have a shipment of puppies coming in three days that I need to puppy-proof for,” Mika said, standing up.
This time I did actually face-palm.
Nothing was going as planned. After the disaster that was that first Harrington wedding, something going right would have been a nice change of pace. Of course, that would have been too much to ask.
Evan stood up, a positively predatory look in his eyes. There was one thing that was going right.
He swooped up behind me and lifted me out of my chair, his arms around my hips. I could feel the bulge poking through his slacks against my ass.
“Where is that skimpy little outfit you were wearing earlier?” he whispered against my neck.
“Guess,” I teased, wiggling back against him. Evan turned me around and pulled me in for a kiss. I moaned, arching against him. Then, in one smooth motion, he pulled my shirt up and over my head, tossing it away.
“Shit, Ivy,” he said hoarsely, his large hands running over the bare skin of my torso, cupping my tits through the lacy bra.
“You want to see the rest?” I shimmied out of my skirt, letting him run his hands over the skimpy panties as I undid his slacks, letting them pool on the floor. He stepped out of them then dug his hands into my ass and carried me over to his sofa. He landed beside me, kissing me as we fell. Tingling surged through me. His mouth was hot on my nipples through the lingerie.
He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it onto the floor. I greedily ran my hands over the rippling muscles then down to his boxer briefs, palming his hard cock through the fabric. He bucked against my hand.
“I need you,” I whispered to him.
Evan kissed me hard as I pushed down his boxer briefs. His cock was thick and hard in my hands. I rolled a condom onto him then guided him to me. He was hilt deep in me instantly. The desire he had for me was so damn strong that it only ignited my desire for him in turn. I enjoyed that sudden penetration, that rush of bliss, the fact that we could know one another so well.
He pushed the lace bra up to expose my nipples so he could pinch and tease them as he thrust into me, his cock stroking my clit with every thrust. I arched back, enjoying the absolute pleasure of being taken by Evan. Every thrust, every stroke pushed me higher, making me moan. My legs closed around him, our pace becoming more and more fervent, as we both drove higher and higher until the wave of pleasure finally crested. I cried out as I came, Evan’s muscular body entwined with mine. He grabbed me tighter, pulled me somehow even closer, and shuddered inside me.
I ran my hand over his slightly flushed face.
“So I’m your girlfriend now, huh?”
He flashed me that irresistible grin. “You can’t tell me that you don’t like being my girlfriend.”
“All you’ve done is fuck me every which way to Sunday. I could have paid someone to do that.”
Evan sputtered, “I’m better than anyone you’d find online!”
“I don’t know,” I teased, fi
shing my phone from the pile of clothes on the floor then leaning back against him. “Let’s see. Oh, look at all these pictures of hot guys I conveniently have saved!”
Evan growled and kissed me hard. “Chris Evans isn’t for sale as an escort. But I am here day and night for your pleasure. But just to be on the safe side…”
Evan plucked my phone from my fingers, held it up, and snapped a few pictures of himself.
“Make all your friends jealous.”
45
Evan
“This isn’t the bachelorette party I wanted,” Imogen pouted. “Teddy got to have a whole weekend hunting with his friends.”
“If you hadn’t kicked all your bridesmaids out,” I reminded her, trying not to grit my teeth and make my stress headache worse, “one of them would have planned a nice weekend. But you did, so you’re getting a bachelorette party, singular, on one, singular, evening.”
“You didn’t even plan it on a Friday or a Saturday night,” Imogen complained.
“I have business meetings planned,” I reminded her. “And Ivy has weddings. So you would have been short your wedding party.”
“It’s not fair!” Imogen whined.
Mika took a rhinestone crown out of her bag and arranged it on Imogen’s head.
“We are going to have a nice, intimate celebration in a swanky suite,” she told her as the limo took us to the luxury hotel. “It has its own pool, and we’ll take awesome pictures! Everyone’s going to be so jealous of your bachelorette party!”
“I even have little bachelorette gift bags!” Tiffanie added, handing them out.
Ivy took hers, looked inside, and went beet red. “You didn’t want to keep it a little tactful?” she hissed at her mother.
