Chapter 11 Emilia
EMILIA
Irushed around my house trying to tidy up the un-tidy-able. I’d learned to navigate the dumpster fire that was my home, but trying to view it from an outsider’s perspective – a very rich, very judgmental outsider – made me understand just how upside-down my living arrangement was.
Would it be rude to make him hang out on the front step?
Actually, that wouldn’t work either, because the front was just as torn up.
Why had I agreed to let him meet me at my place for the ring handoff?
Then again, there was a chance he wouldn’t even be the one to show. Maybe he’d have a courier drop the thing off? Here’s hoping…
I looked around the house again. Did I have time to stack up the boxes of kitchen tile that were blocking the doorway? I’d been stepping on top of them to climb over whenever I needed to access my makeshift food prep area. I leaned down and tried to lift one.
Nope. No way.
I sighed. Okay, there was no sense in doing anything to try to make my borderline condemned home more presentable, because until the reno was done it would continue to look this bad. I was fine with it, and bossman would just have to be careful where he placed his Gucci loafers.
It was then that I heard a thump on the front door.
I peeked out the side window. Darn. Not a courier.
It was an insanely attractive, scowly man palming a ring box.
“Hey,” I opened the door so abruptly that he jumped.
“Do you live in a war zone or what?”
I scowled back at him. “Uh, come in?”
He stepped past me, moving gingerly like he was trying to avoid mud puddles. “Seriously, what’s going on in here?”
“Have you never seen renovations? Or do you relocate to one of your other palaces when you need to have repairs done?”
Drew looked around frowning, then pointed at an exposed circuit breaker. “That’s not up to code. And it’s a fire hazard.”
“And how would you know that?”
He paused to glare at me. “Anyone with eyes can see that it’s a problem. My question for you is why are you living like this?”
I sighed, my frustration with the construction process outweighing my need to make it seem like Everything Is Fine, Nothing to See Here.
“I’m on top of absolutely everything when it comes to my work.
You’ve seen it yourself,” I said, feeling the need to make that clear.
“Nothing gets by me. But this?” I gestured around.
“I guess project management isn’t my thing, because there’s nothing I can do to motivate these guys.
They see one drop of rain and they postpone for the day.
Or they order the wrong Schluter strip and they absolutely cannot continue tiling the rest of the room.
It’s ridiculous. They could learn a thing or two about customer service. ”
“Construction is a beast that won’t be tamed,” he agreed. But this entire place is one giant building violation. How are you even living here?”
“It’s not like I have any options with Winston,” I glowered at him. “He needs his habitat. And besides, once everything is done it’s going to be perfect. I love this place.”
Drew bobbed his head once. “It has good bones, I’ll give you that. It’s a wonderful example of a Craftsman home. But your current scenario won’t do at all.”
He pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and made a call before I could respond.
“Hello, this is Drew Ashford, I’m uh, with Winston? I’m his person? Or, half of his people?”
I hid a giggle at his inability to name himself as a caretaker. But who was he calling about my tortoise?
“Oh, is that so? Excellent, that’s wonderful news. I just wanted to let you know that we’ll be picking him up towards the end of the day. Is that okay on your end?” He listened for a moment. “Perfect, See you then.”
He hung up and punched at the screen again.
“Hold up, you called my vet?” I walked closer to him, scowling at his presumption. “Why are you scheduling my pickup? I was planning to get him this morning. What are you even doing?”
He help up a finger to silence me then dialed someone else.
“Hey, Derrick, I need you to do something for me right now. Research and purchase everything required for a premium desert tortoise habitat. What’s the maximum size, and find out the kind of stuff they need, like, do they need a water feature with running water?
And what kinds of plants do they like? Find out absolutely everything needed for a habitat that exactly mirrors what they would have in the wild, then buy everything and have it installed at my place by COB today.
” He went quiet for a moment. “Obviously cost isn’t an issue, but the timing is. ASAP, got it?” Another pause. “Thanks.”
I was now directly in front of him and staring with my mouth hanging open. “What the hell are you doing? Are you planning to kidnap my tortie?”
The corner of his mouth kicked up. “I wouldn’t dare keep the two of you apart. No, I’m kidnapping both of you.”
He moved past me to look out the back door at my yard.
“Excuse me?”
“Okay, now I understand,” he muttered as he surveyed Winston’s space. “That’s a nice little set-up, but mine will be better, I guarantee it.”
I reached for the blind thinking that pulling it down right in front of his face would be a dramatic way to get his attention, but it pulled off the frame and clattered to the ground at his feet.
“My point exactly,” he said as he gestured to it. “That’s why you and Winston are moving in with me for the duration of this faux engagement.”
He walked away like he considered the conversation was over—as if everything he’d said had made complete sense and I wouldn’t have any follow-up questions. Or maybe he was trying to put a perimeter between us because he knew this firecracker was about to explode.
“What?” I shrieked.
He turned back to me wearing a bemused smile. “You heard me. Start packing.”
“I’m sorry, why would you even think that this is a reasonable idea?” I sputtered at him.
“It might not be reasonable, but it’s logical,” he shot back. “You’ve seen what Dorian is like. Can you imagine how bad it would look if he started poking into our backstory and discovered I was letting you live here when it’s this much of a mess?”
That stung—but as much as I wanted to snap at him, I couldn’t. Because he was right. It was a mess. And maybe if it was just me, I could have dealt with the mess, but did I really want to bring Winston home to this and risk him getting hurt again?
“Think about it. What kind of fiancé would I be if I allowed my one true love to navigate such a huge challenge like a total house reno on her own? To let you live in an active construction zone instead of with me? My fiancée needs to be treated with the utmost respect and care. I want her to be comfortable and looked after, so that means abandoning this mess and moving in with me. I have plenty of space.”
As much as I hated conceding to him, he had a point. But moving in with him felt so extreme. It was going to be bad enough working with him, but going home with him every night?
That was a lot of togetherness for two people who didn’t actually like each other.
At the same time, though… the way his expression went all soft when he talked about caring for his fiancée?
Sure, it was all fake, but it felt like there was a grain of truth to the emotion behind it.
Like, I could believe that that would be exactly his approach if he was in a situation like this with someone he actually cared about. Not me, of course. But someone.
“Fine.”
He chuckled. “That’s it? ‘Fine’?”
“Well, I’m certainly not happy about it.”
“Oh trust me, you will be once you see the place.”
I snorted at him. “I’m not worried about the house itself, I’m worried about dealing with you.”
“Come on,” he teased. “You’re my treasured fiancée! You’ll be just fine, sweetheart.”
“Speaking of …” I held out my hand to him.
“Right, the ring.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small blue box he’d been clutching on my doorstep. Drew started to hand it to me then paused. “Do you want me to get down on one knee?”
I was about to shoot him down but I thought better of it. Why not make the man work for it?
“Actually, yeah. I do want that. I’m probably going to end up telling the whole world about how you proposed to me, so…” I crossed my arms and cocked an eyebrow at him. “Make it good.”
“It’s my great honor, m’lady,” he said with a courtly bow.
Drew paused to make sure there were no stray screws or nails on the ground in front of him then lowered himself to one knee while staring into my eyes. As much as I wanted to look away I couldn’t. He held the box out to me, closed.
“My dearest Emilia,” he said with exaggerated flair. “I have loved you since the first moment we met.”
“Hardly,” I guffawed.
Drew grinned, looking proud of himself for making me laugh. “Your beauty is beyond compare. Your smile is like sunshine, your eyes are like chocolate, and your body…” His eyes scanned me up and down and his smile turned wicked. “Your body is a five-alarm fire.”
“Good to know—keep going,” I said with a smirk, willing myself not to blush.
“I could wax poetic about your virtues all day, but we do have other things we need to do—”
“Always so practical,” I teased with an exaggerated sigh. “Would you be in this much of a rush if I was the one on my knees?”
His eyes went a little hazy. “Definitely not,” he said, his voice sounding strangled.
He cleared his throat and got back into character.
“My love for you has only deepened over time as I’ve come to appreciate your fire, your drive, your ability to juggle three conversations on your phone at once, the way you close your eyes and smile when you sniff hydrangeas.
” I stiffened a little. Were we…still joking?
Because that didn’t sound like a joke. It sounded like me.
Like the things I’d actually want someone to say when they were proposing.
You know, if this was real. Which it wasn’t.
“My one goal is to make you happy,” he continued, “and I will do everything in my power to make sure that every day you live is better than the last. Emilia Marino, will you do me the great honor of being my wife?”
He opened the box to reveal the ring, but I couldn’t look away from his face.
“Well?”
I realized that I was standing there silently, staring at him. I tried to play off how surprisingly moved I was by his proposal.
“Oh, right, sorry. Sure, yeah, I’ll fake marry you.”
He fiddled with the ring.
“It’s okay, you can stand up now,” I said.
“No, you wanted a real proposal, you’re getting a real proposal, all the way through to the finish line.”
He pulled the ring from the blue pillow and held it out to me. I reached out my hand and he slid the ring on.
I’d expected that it would be the wrong size but somehow Mr. Know-It-All had guessed correctly. The ring looked right at home on my finger, a brilliant diamond on a simple platinum band.
It wasn’t at all what I’d envisioned he would buy if he was trying to prove a point. The stone wasn’t hideously gigantic, or burdened by lots of embellishments. It was archetypical Tiffany setting; elegant and minimalistic.
“It’s lovely,” I said as I turned my hand back and forth. “What a shine.”
“Agreed,” he said simply. “So now that it’s official, can we get moving?”
I clutched my hands over my heart and batted my eyes at him. “Of course, sweetheart. Anything you want.”
He allowed a half-smile. “That’s what I like to hear, sugarplum. Now go get packing.”
“Make yourself comfortable,” I said over my shoulder as I headed for my bedroom.
“Where?” Drew hollered after me.
The man was so annoying.
I glanced around my bedroom, the one sane space in the maelstrom that was my house. Where was my suitcase? I hadn’t been on a trip in ages, not even for work, so it took me a few minutes to remember that the thing was tucked away under my bed.
I packed slowly, because I had no idea what billionaires wore around the house. Would I be mocked if I dared to wander down to breakfast in my ratty leggings?
I considered my options carefully as I folded them into the suitcase. I definitely had nice pajamas, but they skewed more for nighttime fun than sleeping. The red silk in the back of my drawer beckoned me.
Could I? I drew the devastating thing out by a strap then held it up to my body.
The man would keel over if he saw me in it.
It was enough to convince me to add it to the stack.