Billionaire's Unlucky Wife

Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

I turned around, forcing a small smile as I looked at Dane as I tried to keep my body from tottering. He looked extremely breathtaking in that two-piece white slim fit suit, wearing a seemingly surprised look on his face at my state.

“I just had a little bit to drink at the office. You know how it gets with work,” I answered.

“A little? Y-you call this a little?” he turned to the receptionist,” Could you kindly get me a sliced lemon really quick and a glass of water?”

The receptionist nodded, summoning a waitress who she whispered something to. Dane took my palms in his, his voice dropping low.

“I know we didn’t leave the morning in good terms and I’m really sorry about that. I shouldn’t have yelled at you at like that. It was uncalled for and I probably should have made a better apology,” his expression softened further,” You are my wife and you’ve always had my back from day one. If you don’t want to be here tonight, I can make an excuse and we’d ditch the Watkins. God knows they can be annoying as hell,”

At this point , I could feel the urge to let tears stream down slowly building me except I had no idea what the tears were for. Were they because his words felt genuine yet deceiving at the same time? Or was it the realization of how much I loved him enough to convince myself this Cynthia person was not someone I needed to worry about? Was I that much in love with him to be this easily swayed by his words of affection?

“No, I can stand them for a few minutes,” I smiled just the waitress came back with water and fresh lemon slices.

“Alright. I have no idea if this is actually going to help but it’s all I can do,” he said,” We’ve kept the Watkin’s waiting long enough. I’ll go ahead to keep them company. Take these and get some air then you can join us. You’ll be good by yourself, right?”

I nodded in response, watching his back as he walked away. f**k! Just how drunk was I to let myself forget why I had been drinking in the first place? The receptionist was kind enough to guide me to the back, a beautifully mowed terrace staring back at me. The cold evening wind bit into my exposed skin but still I didn’t shiver from it. I settled down on the bench, staring into the darkness that covered this area. The lemon did almost subtly nothing to help me but the water did help a little.

I wanted to cry- no, I wanted to storm back in there, cause a ruckus and demand an explanation but I was Chanel and at the end pf the day, I was the kind of woman not to let anything get to me; not even a man. I had my life all planned out and up till yesterday, everything seemed to be working out just fine. I had the ideal job, an ideal lifestyle, an ideal husband and in a few months, I’d probably have a kid or two but now I was struck with a certain sense of insecurity I never possessed before.

“No. Maybe he was really just drunk,” I whispered under my breath.

Rising up and feeling a bit sobered up, I walked back inside, handing the glass to a waiter while mumbling a thank you. Taking a deep breath, I exhaled while pulling up a small smile. The click clacks of my heels felt a little too loud in my ears above the clunking of utensils and chatter of everyone. Just up ahead, I noticed my husband sitting with the Watkins, chatting with fake smiles on their faces. Believe it or not, the Watkins and us weren’t exactly much of buddies but being that they were as rich as we were, happened to be living right next to us and my in-laws and Joe Watkins’ parents were friends, we were forced to act like we actually gave a s**t about each other when we really didn’t.

I stopped, watching my husband and wondering what I was actually doing here tonight. Wasn’t it enough I had to pretend about Cynthia? I sent him a quick text, telling him I was already on my way home. As I drove home, I tried not to overthink and well, as long as he didn’t drink or do anything suspicious, I was good. I had just gotten home, kicked off my shoes when my phone rung. I glanced at it, a sour taste rising in the back of my throat.

“What do you want now? Getting kicked out of the hotel because you ran out of money?” I snapped, sandwiching the phone between my ear and my shoulder.

“How assumptive of you. Can’t I just call because I want to see how my daughter is doing?”

“Like you would give a s**t if something bad was actually to happen to me. Cut to the Chase and tell me what you want,” I proceeded to unzip my dress.

“I’m in a bit of a jam. I think your father cut me off,” Another lie from her.

I blew out a frustrated breath. They were divorced for pits sake and yet still always after each other. Sometimes I wondered if their love really died or were they just too stubborn to acknowledge it. Yet more times than I cared to count I found myself caught up between them.

“How much do you want?” I questioned.

“50 grand,” she answered.

“50K? Are you kidding me? What do you think I run, mum? A money laundering business? I’m only sending you 10k and you better catch the next flight home,” I cut off the all, throwing my phone on the coach.

Was it that hard for the universe to just grant me one moment of pure sanity? My gaze drifted off to the wedding portrait of Dane and I. His eyes had been holding mine in the most lovingly manner. Had he meant every word he’d said in his vow? My phone buzzed and it was a message from the Dane.

Don’t wait up, Beautiful. Joe invited me to this new club in town and no, I’m not going to drink but I think there is a potential investor for my company going to be present. I love you and make sure you take some good rest. I may just wake you up when I get home. Wink emoji.

I felt my hands freeze. Going to a club? But he said he wouldn’t drink, right? There was no need to overreact about it.

Sure. I’ll see you late on then.