Page 5 of The Billionaire's Promise

Okay, maybe I was judging. Just a little. It was only that it didn’t seem to be making either of them happy in the long run. Or maybe I was just assuming that a relationship would make them happy just because being in one made me happy.

But does it? Does it really make you happy?a tiny voice in my head whispered. I shut it off.

Iwashappy.

I was.

Today, more than any other day, I was blissfully happy. And anyone who said otherwise could shut the hell up.

The shower turned off. Now that Vance was awake, my actual workday could start. I poured myself a mug of coffee and headed to my office, sending a quick glance at Scout. Passed out on his side, his back foot twitching, my silly little dog loved to sleep. I could relate.

I let myself into my office, a large room on the far side of the loft, opposite Vance’s bedroom. It was actually Vance’s office as well as mine, but he hated sitting at a desk. He did most of his work on his laptop, usually on the couch or down in his studio. His desk and mine were a matching set, custom built from cedar in modern, spare lines that fit the look of the loft.

Vance’s had a blotter, pen holder, and an in-box, all neatly arranged and undisturbed. Mine was covered in stacks of papers, notebooks, pens, sticky notes—anything and everything I might need in the course of a day. I was efficient and effective, but I wasn’t particularly neat. Not at my desk.

I flipped on my monitor and started on my email while I waited for Vance. He appeared in the door a few minutes later, fully clothed, his wet hair pulled back into a low ponytail, drinking his smoothie. His eyes were bloodshot with circles beneath. Not as bad as Amy’s, but the sight of them bothered me.

“You drink too much,” I said in greeting. He grunted at me. “It’s not good for you,” I muttered.

“No shit,” he said.

“Maybe switch to beer,” I suggested, knowing I was wasting my time.

“No thanks. Takes too long to get drunk on beer.”

“You could try not getting drunk at all,” I said tartly. Vance let out a bark of laughter and set the empty smoothie cup down.

“None of your business,” he said, perching on the corner of my desk and looking over my shoulder. “Nagging isn’t in your job description.”

I laughed. “Naggingismy job description.”

“Fine, then you can only nag me about stuff I do during work hours.”

“Whatever. Drink yourself to death if you want,” I said, pushing back my chair and taking a sip of coffee. His eyes narrowed on mine in suspicion.

“Why are you so cheerful this morning?” he demanded. I took another sip of coffee and smiled, knowing the non-answer would annoy him.

“None of your business,” I said.

“Come on, Magnolia, tell me,” he cajoled. Vance was the only person who called me Magnolia. Before Vance, only my Grandmother had used my first name. Even my parents, as formal as they were, called me Maggie when they bothered to speak to me. But Vance insisted he liked my full name and wouldn’t use anything else. I didn’t mind. I liked my name too.

“I don’t know,” I said, enjoying having the upper hand for a minute and oddly reluctant to share my big news.

“Tell me, or I put The Dead on repeat.” It was a potent threat. By the time I was thirteen, I’d heard the Grateful Dead’sSugar Magnoliamore times than I could count. I loathed it. Not the first fifty times I heard it. At first, I liked the song, but by now, the opening bars were enough to make my teeth grind.

“Fine, if you’re going to whine about it. Brayden and I are getting married. Happy?”

Vance’s face went utterly blank. Devoid of emotion, his eyes flicked to my left hand, then to my face. I curled my naked hand into a ball and dropped it into my lap, out of sight.

In a flat voice, Vance said, “Where’s the ring?”

“We’re not getting a ring. Not yet. We’re waiting until he finishes his residency.”

“Because he’s spending all that money on rent,” Vance said, sarcasm heavy in his words. He knew very well that Brayden lived with me and I didn’t make him pay rent. “Student loan bills?” I ignored that. Vance also knew Brayden’s family had paid his tuition to medical school.

“If you’re going to be an ass—”

“When’s the date?” Vance interrupted.