Page 38 of Beautiful Revenge

I smile. “Fine, thank?—”

She interrupts me. “We spoke on the phone. My name is Felicity Fahnestock.”

“Oh, yes. It’s so nice to meet you in person.”

“I’ve seen you. You looked amazing at the rehearsal dinner. I’m sure you were equally beautiful before, you know...” She leans forward and lowers her voice, as if anyone who cares to keep tabs on me doesn’t know by now. “You canceled the big event.”

“Well, thank you. It was a lovely dress. It just wasn’t meant to be.”

“Exactly,” she stresses the word with her tone and her expression. “When a woman knows, she knows. Everyone respects your wishes, but the staff is curious about the magazine article.”

“Yes, I heard about the bet. As soon as I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”

“That’s so kind.” She looks around me where a guest is waiting and clears her throat. “Your car arrived. Mr. Donnelly has the keys and paperwork.”

“That’s why I’m here.” It’s my turn to lower my voice. “Would there be any chance that you could just grab thosefor me? I don’t want to bother him, and I’m sort of in a hurry.”

She shakes her head in quick succession. “No can do. Mr. Donnelly requested to speak to you. He wants to make sure he gives them to you. And I need to stay here at the desk.”

“Ms. Madison.”

I turn to the side when I hear my name in a low timbre.

There he is, standing in the doorway that’s probably ten feet tall. The door is dark-aged, heavy wood and reminds me of something I saw in an English countryside castle. Devon looks equally comfortable and cocky as he stands there leaning a shoulder on the antique frame with his arms crossed. He’s ditched the tie and jacket today—going casual with linen trousers and a button down that’s rolled at his forearms.

It's the most relaxed I’ve seen him. His hair is even mussed just enough to upgrade his rugged handsome looks to another level of hot.

“How long have you been standing there?” I demand.

“Long enough to know you tried to run away from Winslet without speaking to me,” he says.

“See,” Felicity utters under her breath. “I told you.”

I turn to her. “You must be an angel sent straight from heaven to work for him. I wish you all the luck.”

Her eyes widen as her gaze darts between me and her boss.

“She is.” Devon agrees with my backhanded comment and holds a hand out low for me to enter his private office. “Let’s have that chat.”

The man is insufferable when it comes to hischats. “Fine. The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can be on my way.”

Felicity gasps more dramatically than necessary. “What? Mr. Donnelly said you were staying for a few weeks. What am I going to tell the staff? They’re excited to have you here after Blake told everyone that you’re not the spoiled rotten woman everyone thought you’d be. And, just for the record, I never thought you acted that way. Not that we’ve hosted many brides yet. And I worked at Winslet Mortuary before this. We didn’t have a lot of brides there either—actually, not one that I can think of, thank goodness. But you were not a bridezilla.Not that anyone would be a bridezilla at the mortuary. They’d be dead. Still, nicely done, you.”

When you’re an heiress to billions, I’m used to people thinking all kinds of things about me.Spoiled rottenis the least of the offenses I’ve been accused of over the years. I certainly wasn’t abridezillasince I simply showed up. I had no choice as Janie insisted on planning the whole thing.

“Maybe you should take care of the guests while I speak to Harlow, Felicity.” Devon’s suggestion has the punch of a marshmallow. As brash as he is, I have to give him credit. The way someone treats their employees speaks mountains about them.

Felicity leans over the counter. “Sorry. Maybe we can catch up later. I don’t know any celebrities.”

I don’t have a chance to correct her that I’m hardly a celebrity. She begins to help the next guest book a hiking and nature tour.

I need to get this done, get my keys, and figure out where the hell I’m going to spend the next three weeks.

Devon barely shifts for me to move past him right before the big, heavy door shuts with a thud. When I get a look at his office, I realize how much the rest of the property has been refurbished.

Because this room looks like it hasn’t been touched in over a century. Maybe more.

“Make yourself comfortable.” His words sound like an order rather than an invitation. “We have a lot to discuss.”