The Billionaire's Proposal

by Sierra Rose

  Abigail Wilder...you’re about to find out.

  Chapter 7

  The next thing I knew I was on stage for a segment on Good Morning America.

  “Nick is a billionaire entrepreneur who has multiple zeros in his bank account and a gargantuan mansion,” the host asked. “Does his money intimate you?”

  “I’m not dating Nick for his vast fortune. But it’s wonderful to date him. He’s my everything. He’s my greatest fan and my toughest adversary. There’s nothing we can’t face if we stand together.”

  “And what makes you think he’s the one?”

  I looked straight into the camera. “Our love started out as a bud, for about two years. But then one day that bud blossomed into something beautiful, special, and wonderful, into a glorious red rose. We have a love as soft as the dawn, as radiant as the sun, as bright as the moon. He’s not only my best friend but my one true love.”

  “That’s so romantic. How did you tame him?”

  “We started out as friends. And our friendship slowly grew into something romantic over time. I admit I was scared when I knew we could possibly cross that fine line. I was scared that I’d ruin the friendship we already have. But I think that relationships grow from friendships. Dating after a friendship is established is key. Now I’m dating my best friend and those levels of respect have already been established, before the passionate part comes into play. I think it really worked for us.”

  “And what if you would’ve jumped straight into intimacy the first few months of meeting Nick?”

  I laughed. “Then obviously I wouldn’t be sitting up here today with you. I’d still be in his little black book.”

  The audience laughed.

  “It’s the best foundation ever for an awesome relationship,” I continued. “I can’t think of a better person to face the adventures of life with...other than Nick. Our relationship is built on trust and understanding. He’s my world and I couldn’t live without him. I love him with all my heart, and I know he loves me too.”

  “That’s beautiful. And I agree. There is nothing wrong with taking the time to know one another before you jump into a relationship.”

  She thanked me for joining the show and finally it was over.

  ***

  I went back to my place and hung out. Stacy and the crew came back around five pm to help me get ready for my dinner date with Nick.

  Now it was time to get out the gorgeous dress.

  I hadn’t touched it since the day that Nick and I went to Dior. I’d extracted my work purse, and nothing more. The rest was left to haunt the empty space beneath my mattress. Filling me with frustrations, curiosities, and questions to which I would never have the answer.

  And so, it was with a sense of gravity that I pulled it out that night.

  Only Stacy was with me. The rest of them had either been banished, or had left of their own free will—having discovered that there were no surfaces of my body left to preen. She and I peered down together, as if we were about to unlock some sort of ancient treasure chest or mystical door. Then, when she could take the anticipation no longer, she gave me a hard shove.

  “Do it,” she coaxed. “Before we age into next season.”

  I lifted out the tissue paper, and slowly extracted the items—one by one. The shoes, the necklace, the lingerie (oh gosh—I’d forgotten about the lingerie), and then finally—the dress.

  There was a soft gasp from beside me, but I froze completely still. To be honest, I wasn’t exactly sure what I was looking at. We’d found it in the dress section—so that had to be what it was—and yet...I had never seen anything like it.

  Let me start by saying this: it looked like something a gladiator would wear. If the gladiator had a penchant for silks, gems, ribbons, and happened to be a princess.

  It was every shade of iridescent silver I could imagine—darkening to shimmering charcoal hues when I twisted it in the light. The entire thing was about as light as a feather, and covered just about as much—with a jagged crystal strap that laced around my thin shoulders before widening into a bodice that plunged all the way to my stomach.

  But there’s a reason for that...

  With a little smile, I reached into the jewelry box, and pulled out the necklace—ignoring the way Stacy swooned again beside me. It was a testament to how hard I was trying to put that day and its string of unanswered questions behind me, that I hadn’t taken the thing out before to gawk at it in the privacy of my own room.

  It was beautiful.

  An eighteen inch chain of pure diamonds that hung all the way down to my navel, a length that happened to fit perfectly with the dress. At the end, dangling there like a little drop of heaven, was a diamond pendant. Shaped like a half-moon teardrop. Glistening in my open palm.

  “Abigail,” Stacy murmured, taking a deep breath to steady herself, “I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to give me an honest answer, okay?”

  I looked up in surprise, wondering what she was thinking.

  “When did you start sleeping with Nicholas Hunter?”

  When did I start...what?!

  “Excuse me?!” I cried, leaping to my feet. “What the hell are you talking about?!”

  She stood up slowly beside me, completely immune to my indignant rage.

  “This stuff...” her eyes swept each item laying out on my bed, “...all of it. It’s worth about as much as this apartment building.”

  I glanced down as well, wishing I’d saved the necklace until after she’d gone.

  “Yeah, so?”

  Her eyebrows shot into her hair, arching in sheer delight.

  “Yeah, so?” she quoted. Then she threw back her head and laughed. “I seriously can’t believe you just tried to brush this off with a yeah, so.”

  I bristled defensively, trying to think of something to say.

  “I only meant...this is nothing to Nick. You know that.” A rather good explanation, if I did say so myself. “He drops money like this all the time. Couldn’t care less.”

  Stacy’s lips curled up in a knowing smile, not taken in for a single moment by my hasty excuses. “Yeah, except it’s not about the price, it’s about the items themselves. The garter?! You said he picked these out himself? No help from the saleswomen?”

  A stab of nerves hit me deep in the stomach, and I felt the sudden need to back-peddle.

  “I actually might have been wrong about that,” I muttered quickly. “Come to think of it, I think there was a woman helping us. Rhonda, or Rosy, or Rudolpho—something like that.”

  Stacy ignored me, trailing her fingers appreciatively over the fine silk. When she was finished, she glanced up like she was going to come at me with something else—but she stopped instantly upon seeing the look on my face. She looked twice between me and the necklace before her eyes softened. The next thing I knew, she was helping me to my feet.

  “I’ve been with Nick for a long time.” Her eyes twinkled as she gave me a rather peculiar smile. “And I think this is more than an acting gig. I mean, he could’ve picked me and I could’ve played the part very well. But he chose you. And I catch him looking at you, too, and I think there is something more going on here. Your boss is seducing you.”

  I chuckled. “Nah, it’s just an acting gig, nothing more.”

  She laughed. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

  And with that—she proceeded to help me get ready. Transforming me, as only someone like Stacy could, into a woman I hardly recognized. A woman who not only would light up whatever room she walked into, but looked as though she should be sitting on a throne. A woman who looked both beautiful and dangerous all at the same time. A woman who looked ready for whatever the world had to throw at her—come hell or high water.

  Of course...that woman hadn’t taken into account the icy New York breeze.

  Nick called me. “I saw the Good Morning America segment. You were brilliant. My father just called and absolutely loved it. So did the board. I can’t
thank you enough.”

  “I’m glad your dad is pleased.”

  “Everyone loved you. You were a hit! Social media is exploding...and all great things! Everything you said felt real and genuine. It was like you were speaking directly from your heart. Do we really have a love as soft as the dawn, as radiant as the sun, as bright as the moon?”

  “I said what they wanted to hear.”

  “I thought it was touching.”

  “Well, you love when your women brag about you.”

  He laughed. “See you soon, love.”

  “Okay. See you soon.”

  “Wait. I’m the one true love of your life and all I get is a “see you soon.”

  “Goodbye, love of my life. I’ll be counting the seconds until our lips meet once again.”

  “Now that’s more like it.”

  I smiled.

  The limousine pulled up to my apartment at eight o’clock sharp. As per my instructions, I was waiting down at the curb, fidgeting slightly in my new dress. There may have been a heavy trench coat draped over my shoulders, but that still didn’t mean that I didn’t feel absolutely naked underneath. I was still recovering from the initial shock of having opened the box just an hour before.

  “I’m pretty sure I lost a toe!” I exclaimed as I slid into the backseat with a big smile.

  “I’m sorry, miss. This limo is reserved. I’m going to have to ask you to please exit the vehicle. I can call you a cab...”

  “Is this a joke?” I asked laughing.

  The limo driver, a man I had gotten to know extremely well in the last two years, stared back at me in utter shock. His mouth fell open, and a second later, he reached for his phone.

  A second after that, my own phone began to ring.

  I extracted it from my purse in surprise, then gazed up through the partition. “Is this some sort of joke about it being a stretch limo? Because I know you can hear me just fine—”

  “Abigail?!”

  I froze in place, watching as he swiveled around so far, he almost fell out of his chair. As far as I knew, the man had been clean and sober for the last fifteen years. Unless he’d had some sort of relapse in the forty minutes since I’d called him, there was something bigger going on.

  “Yeah—who were you expecting?” I studied him carefully, unsure as to what exactly I should say. “Are you okay, Bob? Did something—”

  “I’m sorry,” he choked in a raspy voice. A flush of embarrassment reddened his cheeks, but he still seemed completely unable to take his eyes off me. “I’m so sorry, I just...I honestly didn’t recognize you. I thought some strange woman had just climbed into my car.”

  I didn’t know whether to take that as a slight or a compliment. In the end, I settled for another of my famous jokes. (These always went over rather well, I thought.)

  “And your first thought was to call me? Bob—I’m flattered.” I ignored the exasperated look on his face as he rolled up the partition. “Rest assured, I will protect you with my life. No matter how many strange women come out of the—”

  By that point, the partition was up, and I had to settle for laughing alone.

  I tried to keep track of where we were going, pressing my face against the window like an impatient child. But either Bobby didn’t know exactly how to get there, or Nick had instructed him to take the most circuitous route known to man.

  About twenty minutes later, after we’d passed the same billboard three different times, I scrambled up to the front of the car, and banged on the divider. It rolled down only an inch.

  “You’re not going to tell any more jokes, are you?”

  My eyes narrowed.

  “You’re not simply impersonating my driver, are you? You know, at some point, we’ll either have to park or refuel. That sarcasm counts as a joke, by the way.”

  He chuckled, taking the same left turn he’d taken a dozen times before.

  “You’re certainly impatient, considering where you’re going and all. I would have thought you’d be dying to stall.”

  A host of sudden nerves tightened my stomach, but at the same time, I sensed a golden opportunity.

  “Yeah, well...I’ve kind of come round to it—if you know what I mean.” I folded my arms on top of the glass, trying to look as innocent as possible. “What about you, Bobby? How do you feel about it? Will you be coming inside as well?”

  He needed only to glance at my face, to figure out my plan.

  “I don’t think so!” He chuckled again. “If Nick wanted it to be a surprise, then I’m damn sure keeping it that way. I know better than to mess with his plans.”

  “But Bob,” I whined, draping my arms entreatingly over the glass, “that’s the point—you do know Nick’s plans. He’s fucking crazy! You have to give me some kind of clue as to what I’m walking into here.”

  “Nope. Not a chance.”

  He was firm, but I’d been reprogrammed by the PR mavens who came before me, so that I was literally incapable of knowing how to back down.

  “Is it a concert? A Turkish dance class? Oh my gosh—it’s not another naked art show, is it? Because I honestly don’t know if I can handle seeing even one more pair of—”

  “We’re here.”

  Before I could even work myself up into a rant, the limo pulled to the side of the curb and a valet immediately opened the door. It was only then that I realized why we’d taken such a nonsensical route getting there. Half the city had apparently been re-routed to this giant stadium.

  It was the cream of the crop in terms of New York’s finest. Actors, athletes, politicians, rock stars. There were a couple foreign dignitaries thrown in, but to be honest, I was having trouble making out specific faces given the fact that they were literally bathed in camera-light.

  One thing was certain: it was Nick’s crowd. No two ways about it. And dress or no dress, I suddenly couldn’t have felt more out of place.

  “Take me home, Bobby,” I whispered, cringing back into the seat. “I shouldn’t be here.”

  When the valet offered out his hand, I resisted the urge to hiss.

  Bobby twisted around again, looking at me in surprise. “What the hell are you talking about? You’re Abigail-fucking-Wilder. Go knock’em dead, kid!”

  The sudden burst of enthusiasm brought a reluctant smile to my lips, but it did absolutely nothing to calm me down. If I’d thought the press had been bad at the airport, it was literally nothing compared to what was waiting just outside. It was a world of blue again. No escape, no end in sight. And more importantly...no white knight this time to sweep me off my feet.

  “That’s sweet, but I’m serious Bob.” I scooted all the way back into the leather, casting a hopeful glance through the partition. “Maybe we can just go once more around the block? Let me get my bearings a little? Or twice—you know! Why limit ourselves?”

  I waved off the valet, and shut the door once more. Vehemently supporting my plan even as I suggested it.

  “Yes—that’s what we’ll do. We’ll just circle the city another two times, and see how we feel then. With any luck, this cursed event will be over by the time we get back—and we can just head on home. Tell Nick we got stuck in traffic. Come to think of it,” I pulled out my phone to begin texting him my excuse, “I still haven’t figured out what’s even going on out there. You’d think it was some kind of inauguration judging by the crowd—”

  The door flew open and a rush of cool air spilled in. I dropped my phone with a guilty shriek, then caught my breath as the most beautiful man in the world stuck his head inside.

  “Stuck in traffic, huh?” Nick flashed me a sparkling smile as he slipped his own phone back into his pocket. “Given that information, you seem to have made it here in record time.”

  It was then that he seemed to actually notice me for the first time.

  He did so in increments, starting with my shoes and working his way up my long legs all the way to my eyes. He lingered there for a moment, mouth slightly ajar, before his eyes slipp
ed back down to my coat—dilating with intensity, as if he could see what was underneath.

  “You look...”

  I held my breath, as he searched for the right word.

  “...cold.”

  I blinked. He grimaced. On the other side of the partition, Bobby transformed his raspy chuckle into a conveniently-timed cough.

  Confidence shattered, I glanced down—trying to think of something to say.

  “Uh...thank you. You’re looking rather...cold yourself.”

  It wasn’t often that my smooth-talking client couldn’t find his line. It would have been almost funny if it hadn’t been happening to me. The second it did, his eyes snapped shut with an apologetic wince, before he shook his head with a bashful smile.

  “I just meant, let’s get you inside and heated up...”

  He offered out his hand, and I took it.

  “...so I can see what’s under that coat.”

  Chapter 8

  It was an experience unlike any I’d had before. And was unlikely to ever have again.

  From the second we swept inside, it was like we stepped into another world. One where things like fairytales and glass slippers happened on Tuesday. Where women still dressed like princesses, and men still opened the door. There were violins and ice sculptures, diplomats and kings. A hundred flutes of champagne floated on silver trays—never in the way, always in reach.

  But in spite of all the magic around me, I was unable to take my eyes off a single thing.

  Nick.

  It was one thing to go to these parties as his publicist. It was another thing entirely go on his arm. The world looked different from that angle. Brighter, somehow. Full of possibilities.

  But as absorbed as I was with Nick, he was equally absorbed with me.

  No matter who was talking to him, he kept his eyes fixed on mine. And no matter how quick and thick the wolves descended, he never let go of my hand.

  “Yes, yes—thank you,” he waved off the person trying to summon his attention, “I couldn’t agree more. We’ll talk later, Jim.”

  “Who’s that?” I asked, as the man disappeared into the crowd.