Dating A British Billionaire (BWWM Romance) (11 page)

BOOK: Dating A British Billionaire (BWWM Romance)
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“Nisha Worthington,” she added.

 

I couldn’t stop the smile from stretching across my face. “I know.”

 

It was then that she reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “But you know, you cannot do this thing that you do anymore.”

 

I bit my lip. I wanted to agree with her, but, “Mum, what else is there for me to do?”

 

Edward and Valerie came into the kitchen then, saving the both of us from that conversation.

Chapter 16 – Edward

“All right,” Felix stepped away from the white board and sat down next to me. “So now that the serious stuff is over, you need to talk to me.”

 

I shook my head. After an entire morning of meetings about the company, a five minute conversation with Nisha over the guest list and an afternoon full of meetings and powwows about the campaign, the last thing I wanted was another meeting.

 

I folded my hands, resting my chin on them. “No, I do not.”

 

Felix bit his lip.

 

On any given day, I would have loved to have five minutes alone with him. But I didn’t want to talk about anything personal. I didn’t want him to ask me about Nisha. My head was still reeling from everything I’d learned about her in the last fortnight and it didn’t make any sense to me to tell anybody, not even my best friend, until I could figure out how to process this.

 

“Look, I know she’s a hooker.”

 

I couldn’t even deny it because my eyes flashed so wide open and I stopped breathing. “Not a hooker, an escort.”

 

Felix sucked in a deep breath. He opened his mouth to say something else, but my secretary came to the window of the conference room, knocking and furiously pointing at a file in her hand. I was more than ready to take this out, but before I could even form the words in my head, Felix folded his facial features into a scowl. “You’re not going anywhere.” He waved the secretary away.

 

I flexed my jaw at this. “How do you even know this?”

 

Felix’s lips stretched into a straight line. “I know her madam.”

 

My eyes went wide. “You’ve used a…”

 

He shook his head. “This is not about me.”

 

I glowered at him. “You come to me with news of having used a hooker and it’s not about you?”

 

“An escort,” Felix said, echoing my previous words.

 

My heart skipped a beat as a thought came to mind. “It wasn’t...”

 

Felix was quick to dispel my worries. “No.”

 

I sighed. Part of me was happy that my best friend hadn’t slept with my fiancée, but the other part of me wondered who the people were that she had slept with. Then, as soon as that thought crossed my mind, I lost myself in the labyrinth of things I didn’t know about what Nisha had done or who she had been with. My heart pounded against my chest, my blood ran cold, my hands became coated in a slick, nervous sweat. “I can’t do this.”

 

Somewhere in all the nerves, I felt Felix’s hand on my shoulder. “What can’t you do?”

 

I shook my head. There was no way for me to explain this to him without hating myself; without feeling weak and jealous and territorial. “I… It’s nothing. Really.”

 

Felix placed a hand on my shoulder. “Okay, because I have to tell you something. Never mind how I know this, but I know that Nisha is your prize. But she is also a high level escort and she has a kid. But she is your fiancée.”

 

I refused to put a definitive expression on my face.

 

He leaned in to me. “Do you understand what I am saying? If you don’t come up with a strategy, the media will end you. There is no, ‘if they find out,’ in this. They will find out. I know this because we just destroyed George’s marriage. You can’t stand on a podium and make speeches with a hooker...”

 

“She’s not a...”

 

“Forget what she is or isn’t. That is what the media will say. You need to handle this. She needs to quit that job or you will have to break it off with her.”

 

I couldn’t bring myself to look at Felix. I had already given Nisha that ultimatum and it was in the works, I hoped. I couldn’t tell her to trust me with her secrets. I couldn’t tell her that I would never judge her and then turn around and try to force her to quit her job right away. “Felix…”

 

“Edward. This is our vision. Remember? Making a difference. This is your life’s work. It’s more than just a popularity contest. It’s more than just you or the two of you.”

 

My chest was heavy and my head, full. He gave me too much to think about. Far too many questions and not enough answers to go with them. “Felix. I’ve said it. I will handle this.” As he nodded and left me on my own in that conference room, I wondered whether I had just lied to him.

 

***

Nisha

 

When I arrived at the Ed’s flat that evening with Valerie and her favorite blanket in tow, I wondered if he was completely preoccupied with something. From the moment he came to the door, he seemed to have been operating entirely on autopilot with his head cast down and his lips moving as he muttered phrase after phrase to himself. I busied myself in the kitchen, slaving over the simplest thing I knew how to make: baked chicken and mashed potatoes. Valerie sat in the living room, looking through his extensive movie collection, reading the titles out loud in that obnoxious children’s voice I simultaneously found impossible to endure and as cute as ever.

 

Once I put the chicken in the oven, I took the opportunity to get out of that steaming kitchen and check on the others. I stepped into the living room muttering a couple of things to Valerie, only to have her ignore me. After dwelling for a few minutes longer, I worked up the courage to go find Edward and bother him. I practically tiptoed down the narrow hall until I was looking through the glass French doors.

 

He didn’t even look at me when I entered, but just remained hunched over his papers and his files, a MacBook laying open off to the side. “Are you all right?” I asked, as I rounded the desk and commenced rubbing his neck and shoulders.

 

He barely gave to my touch. “I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed with everything. My head is full.”

 

I nodded. “I see. You just seem a little… standoffish or something.”

 

“I’m sorry if you feel that way.”

 

I flinched at this. “Is there something that I did wrong?”

 

He then turned to look up at me. “No. It’s not you.”

 

I nodded even though I hardly believed him. As if he could read my mind, he reached up and placed his palm on my chin. My whole body shuddered at his touch as I situated myself on his lap. Feeling his hands on either side of my waist put me in a frenzy. The whole thing was impossible to resist, from eyes staring up to me, that sexualized haze in them, to the way his lips split, just so.

 

I leaned down to him and kissed him. Our lips danced together as his tongue found its way into my mouth. Being with him in this way was so right and yet something felt decidedly off. My heart didn’t exactly flutter with excitement and eventually, the goosebumps went away. I could hardly breathe with his lips against mine and everything around us, from the sound of the ventilation fan in the kitchen, to Valerie talking to herself and watching the telly in the other room distracted me. Something was wrong with me.

 

Something was wrong with us.

 

As he moved his head away from my lips and down to my neck and shoulder, I leaned away from him, trying to concentrate on the way that everything felt, but I couldn’t get myself in the mood for anything. “Ed?” I said, practically picking his head up from the surface of my skin.

 

He looked up at me, his mouth still open and his brow furrowed. “What’s the matter?”

 

I cocked my head to one side. He sounded far too entitled for my liking. “I just don’t feel like doing this right now.”

 

He narrowed his eyes at me. “We haven’t for weeks.”

 

My stomach rolled at this truth. He was right in saying that, but, “I’ve had a lot going on the past few weeks. You know that. I’m sorry,” I said.

 

“What exactly are these things that occupy your mind?” he asked, standing up. His brow was furrowed and his mouth folded into a frown.

 

I couldn’t figure out why he was so angry. I shrugged. “Edward, I just don’t want to today.”

 

“Is that what you tell your clients?”

 

My eyes went wide. With that one short sentence, it was like he had reached into my chest and ripped my heart right out of me. “What is that supposed to mean?”

 

“Just answer the question.”

 

His harsh tone made my skin crawl. I couldn’t believe he would bring this up this way and with my daughter in the other room. “No. It’s not, I...”

 

“Because you can’t tell them no. It’s your job that you have to please them however they see fit. And then when you’re done and you come home to me, it’s just unfortunate that there’s nothing left of you.”

 

“Edward, where is this coming from?”

 

“Me!” he roared. Then, as if he remembered that there was a child in the other room, he clamped his jaw shut and stepped closer. “You’re distracted. I don’t see how you can love me and then go out and pretend to love everyone else.”

 

I shook my head. “It’s not like that.” I felt like the defendant on the stand for the umpteenth time that week.

 

“Oh really? What’s it like then,” he said, taunting me; hurting me with his words.

 

“Like a glorified waitressing job. You smile at them. You laugh at their bad jokes. You get a big tip,” I hissed.

 

“I just don’t understand why you feel you have to do this.”

 

This was starting to feel like a conversation I had already had multiple times. “What else am I supposed to do?”

 

“We’re getting married!” he hissed, his hands flying up in exasperation. “Do anything else. Do nothing. I can pay for us. I can pay for your university or whatever. I just can’t do this anymore.”

 

I gulped. There it was. Did I expect him to learn this about me and not want me to stop? Did I expect him to just go along with it like an unwilling witness? “What happens if we don’t make it? What happens to me? I can’t put my education, my future, in your hands just because you have money.”

 

“Fine. Then do it because you love me.”

 

“I do not respond kindly to ultimatums.”

 

“This is not an ultimatum. This is me telling you to trust me. Why is that so fucking hard?”

 

I sucked in another breath, my lips folding into a frown and my brows furrowing. Why was it so hard? “And you’re saying this as you accuse me of having sex with everyone but you…?”

 

“You are having sex with everyone but me!”

 

“Are you calling me a whore?”

 

Edward shook his head. “I just want you to trust me. I want you to have a future. I want you to be happy. Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

 

As I stood there, searching the deepest, darkest recesses of my mind for the answer to that question, the scent of chicken seeped into my nostrils. It smelled almost burnt. I crossed my arms and faced Edward. “I have to go check on the food.” Then I left, knowing good and well that I had aggressively avoided his question… because I didn’t know how to answer it.


Chapter 17 - Edward

I woke up seriously wondering if I had destroyed my relationship with Nisha. There was nothing special about this day, or the night before. I just had been waking up to that effect every single day since she came to spend the night. I was furious with her and with myself for everything we had gone through. And yet, as I peeled myself off of my bed and made my way into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, I could feel my body missing her, aching to see her. I wanted to just sit down and talk to her, to explain to her all of my wishes and dreams for us. I needed her to understand that I loved her and thus, everything that I ever did, I did because I loved her. I needed her to know that I would never judge her.

 

But I already had.

 

Nisha was sharp, the sharpest woman I had ever met. She could smell me judging her from a mile away. I didn’t understand her job and, what’s more, I didn’t understand her either. I asked her to trust me and yet I made it so obvious that I couldn’t understand her.

 

And yet I barely trusted her.

 

As I made my way to my living room with a full mug of coffee at hand, I was starting to feel more and more like my relationship with her was hanging on a thread. Not a good thing to think about the woman I meant to marry.

 

I clicked the telly on and sat down.

***

Nisha

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