{"product_id":"the-ultimate-billionaire-romance","title":"The Ultimate Billionaire Romance","description":"\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eI've had a secret crush on a billionaire for two years, but tonight I'm at his sister's wedding pretending to be his girlfriend.\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eThe party continues around me—laughing, dancing, celebrating—while I try to look normal. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eI find my way back to where I left Deanne.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eShe's been looking for me, apparently, because she appears at my elbow within seconds, already leaning. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eHer earlier energy has burned down to embers.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eI sit. She curls against me without asking. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eFirst her head on my shoulder, then her whole weight settling against my side as the minutes pass. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eBy the time the cake is cut, she's asleep, her head on my chest, one hand still loosely holding a blue crayon. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eThe napkin drawings are spread around us like fallen leaves—the piano, my hands, Reid in the doorway, the three of us together.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eI sit very still, afraid to move and wake her. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eHer weight against me feels both foreign and familiar—I'm not a mother, but holding Deanne feels like something I've always known how to do. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eHer braids tickle my chin, and I can smell the peach shampoo Reid buys because she picked it out herself.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eI try to file this feeling away, as I do with everything else, into neat categories in my mind where emotions go to be processed later. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eBut this one won't fit anywhere. It's too big, too much. It spills over the edges of whatever box I try to put it in.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eI think about Tuesday afternoons in Reid's music room. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eThe blue mug that's become mine without either of us discussing it. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eDeanne's crayon drawings were left on the piano bench. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eThe way Reid appears in the doorway barefoot, already halfway back to being himself.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eI can't move without waking Deanne, so I sit and feel everything I've been trying not to feel for months. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eI don't manage it this time. I don't file it away. I just let it wash over me like a wave I'm too tired to swim against.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eI'm still sitting there, Deanne's weight warm against my chest, when the music between songs stops.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eOne of those brief silences that seems louder than the noise before it.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eIn that pause, the main door opens.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eShe walks in like someone who knows exactly where she belongs.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eI don't know who she is. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eBut I watch her scan the space with calm, specific focus—past the dancing couples, past the cake table, past the older relatives with champagne flutes—until she finds Reid.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eAnd I watch Reid find her.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eIt's a small thing. Just a shift in his posture, a tightening along his jaw. The kind of thing most people would miss. I don't miss it.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eShe starts toward him.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eReid crosses the room first. Not rushing, not hesitating. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eMoving with the same deliberate control he brings to everything. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eHis hand finds the small of my back—warm, present, different from the logistics touches earlier in the evening.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eHis jaw is tight. He leans slightly toward me, \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003e“She’s going to ask if we’re really together,” he growls, low enough that only I can hear. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003e“Do you want me to lie, or finally tell the truth?”\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Author Landa Rose","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":51792058384524,"sku":"GBPBHR","price":23.95,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0747\/8804\/4940\/files\/Pen_Name_-_Series_Name_-_Main_Product_Image_3.png?v=1785708655","url":"https:\/\/www.authorgraciebell.com\/products\/the-ultimate-billionaire-romance","provider":"Author Gracie Bell","version":"1.0","type":"link"}