Page 44 of Just The Way You Aren’t (Last Billionaire Standing #1)

WILLOW

" N o, Rufus, that is not your new bed." I scoop the cat out of my weekender bag for the third time while simultaneously lunging across the bed to grab my bra from Tiny's mouth. "And you—give that back!"

Tiny dances away with his prize, tail wagging as if we're playing the world's most entertaining game of keep-away.

I'm already dressed in my yellow sundress with tiny white daisies—the nicest thing in my closet that isn't a boho skirt or jeans and a T-shirt—but I'd really like to pack my good bra for the weekend.

"You're not making this easy," I tell Tiny, who responds by wagging harder as I advance on him. Meanwhile, Mingo has decided my hairbrush is the perfect toy, batting it across the dresser and knocking over my perfume bottle in the process.

My phone buzzes with a text. Abby: Outside your door. My hands are full. Let me in!

I abandon both cat and bra retrieval efforts and hurry to the door, stepping carefully around Spike, who has positioned himself directly in my path with the uncanny ability unique to small dogs.

When I open the door, Abby stands there balancing a cardboard tray with two large coffees and a paper bag that smells gloriously of fresh bagels.

"You're a lifesaver," I tell her, taking the coffee tray so she can enter.

"I figured you'd be too busy wrangling your zoo to eat breakfast." Abby glances at the flowers on my kitchen table. "Those still look amazing. Billionaires must shop at better florists than the rest of us mere mortals."

The arrangement still dominates my small kitchen table—an explosion of sunflowers, gerbera daisies, and bird of paradise blooms in a heavy crystal vase. Damien had sent them to the Silver Hearts office earlier this week, a surprise that made me smile every time I looked at them.

"Right? They're beautiful." I set the coffee down beside the flowers. "I've never gotten anything like them before."

"I'm guessing they cost more than my monthly coffee budget," Abby says dryly, unpacking the bagels. She hands me one slathered in cream cheese. "Here. Eat. You'll need your strength for wrangling your prince charming through a weekend with your family."

I take a bite of bagel, chewing thoughtfully. "Do you think it's too much? Bringing him to meet everyone so soon?"

"Honey, he's the one who offered to come," Abby reminds me, sipping her coffee. "Besides, after that fundraiser, anyone with eyes can see you two are crazy about each other."

A rush of warmth spreads through me. It's still surreal sometimes—being with Damien, seeing the tender side of him that exists beneath all that corporate intensity.

"I just hope my family doesn't scare him off." I take another bite of bagel. "My brother Cole will definitely give him the third degree, and my nieces and nephews are going to be everywhere."

"Please. The man runs a billion-dollar company. I think he can handle a few nosy siblings and some kids hopped up on birthday cake." Abby pauses, eyeing me with suspicion. "Is that a new dress?"

"Maybe." I feel my cheeks warm. "And I might have bought new underwear too."

"Willow Harper!" Abby's eyes widen in mock scandal. "Planning to seduce your billionaire in your parents' house?"

"No! I just..." I trail off, embarrassed. "I want to look nice for him."

Abby's expression softens. "He'd think you look beautiful in sweatpants and one of those ratty Silver Hearts t-shirts you insist on keeping."

I'm saved from responding when Spike attempts to steal my bagel, leading to a minor scuffle that ends with him receiving a small piece as a consolation prize. I glance at the clock—9:15. Damien would be here in forty-five minutes.

"I need to finish packing," I say, returning to my bedroom with Abby trailing behind.

"So, what's the sleeping arrangement at your parents' place?" she asks, perching on the edge of my bed.

I pull out my toiletry bag. "The guest room. It's tiny but has a double bed." I toss my toothbrush in, then pause. "Oh god, what if the springs squeak? The walls are paper-thin..."

"So you'll just have to be very, very quiet," Abby teases, then laughs at my horrified expression. "Relax! I'm kidding. Mostly."

"You're the worst," I tell her, but I'm laughing too as I add my hairbrush to the bag.

"I still can't believe I'm pet-sitting again. You totally owe me." Abby reaches down to scratch behind Tiny's ears. "What did you tell your family about him?"

"Just that I'm bringing someone special." I pause, considering. "Which feels true, you know? He is special."

"Look at you, all starry-eyed over the Ice King of Manhattan." Abby's tone is teasing, but her smile is genuine. "I've got to admit, I didn't see this coming when he first showed up at Silver Hearts."

"Me neither." I hold up two different pairs of sandals, silently asking her opinion. She points to the nicer ones, and I nod in agreement. "But he's different now. Or maybe he was always different and I just didn't see it."

"Either way, I'm happy for you." Abby takes a sip of her coffee. "Even if I am sacrificing my Saturday night to babysit your menagerie."

"I brought you coffee and arranged for pizza delivery money to be left on the counter. Plus, I stocked the fridge with that fancy kombucha you like." I toss the sandals into my bag, then frown when I realize Mingo is still curled up on my neatly folded clothes, now completely rumpled.

"Mingo, you monster," I sigh, shooing her out of the bag. As I begin refolding my clothes, my phone rings on the nightstand. The screen displays Damien's name, and my heart does a little skip.

"Oooh, it's lover boy," Abby teases. "I'll give you some privacy." She retreats to the living room, closing the bedroom door behind her.

I take a quick glance in the mirror, a habit I've developed since Damien and I started doing video calls. My hair is down in loose waves, and the minimal makeup I've applied looks fresh. Satisfied, I answer with a smile in my voice.

"Hey you. Are you outside already? "

There's a brief pause on the other end. "Willow." Just the way he says my name—heavy, serious—tells me something's wrong.

My smile fades. "What is it?"

I hear him exhale slowly. "I'm not going to be able to make the trip today."

The words hit me like a physical blow, but I keep my voice steady. "Oh. Okay. What happened?"

"It's Guardian Productions." He sounds frustrated, and I can picture him pacing in his office, running a hand through his hair the way he does when he's stressed.

"A competitor has made an eleventh-hour offer to undercut our deal.

Steven just called—his siblings are pushing to consider it.

I need to fly to Florida immediately to salvage this. "

"I see." I sit on the edge of my bed, absentmindedly stroking Rufus who's wandered over to me, sensing my mood shift.

"I'm sorry, Willow. I know how important this weekend is to you." The genuine regret in his voice helps soothe some of the sting. "I wanted to meet your family. I still do."

"It's okay," I say automatically. "Business emergencies happen."

"This couldn't come at a worse time." I hear papers shuffling in the background. "I'm heading to the airport now. The board feels I need to show Langley's commitment by being there in person."

Of course they do. I swallow against the disappointment rising in my throat. "I understand."

"I can send Heinrich to drive you up," he offers. "He knows the area well."

"No, that's not necessary. I make the drive all the time." The last thing I want is to spend three hours in a car with Damien's driver, my disappointment on full display to a virtual stranger. "I'll be fine."

There's another pause. "I'll make this up to you, I promise."

"I know you will." I force brightness into my voice, not wanting him to hear how deflated I feel. "Go save your deal. My family will still be there another time."

"Thank you for understanding." His relief is palpable. "Call me when you get there safely?"

"Of course."

"Willow, I—" He stops himself, then continues more professionally. "I'll call you tonight if I can."

After we hang up, I sit motionless on my bed, phone still in hand. Rufus butts his head against my arm, demanding attention, and I absently stroke his fur.

A soft knock sounds at my door. "Willow? Everything okay?" Abby asks.

"He's not coming," I say as she enters. "Guardian Productions emergency."

Her face falls. "Oh no. I'm so sorry."

"It's fine." I stand, forcing myself to move. "These things happen."

"Honey," Abby says gently, "it's okay to be disappointed."

"I'm not—" But the sympathetic look on her face breaks through my brave facade. "Okay, I am. I really wanted him to meet everyone."

"I know." She gives me a quick hug. "But there will be other chances."

"Will there, though?" The question slips out before I can stop it. "What if this is just the beginning? What if every time we make plans, something 'more important' comes up?"

Abby sits beside me. "That's the reality of dating someone like him, isn't it? His world has different demands than ours. "

I nod, absently petting Rufus who's purring loudly against my leg. "I knew that going in. I just didn't expect to feel this..." I search for the right word. "Replaceable."

"You are not replaceable," Abby says firmly. "From what you've told me, the man is crazy about you. This is business, not personal."

"But that's just it. His business will always come first. Always." I glance at my half-packed bag; at the sundress I'd carefully selected just for him. "Maybe I'm being naive thinking we can make this work."

"Or maybe you're catastrophizing after one canceled plan." Abby bumps my shoulder with hers. "Give him a chance to make it up to you before you write the whole relationship off."

She's right, of course. This is just one disappointment, not a pattern. Not yet, anyway.

"You're still going to your family's, right?" Abby asks.

"Of course. My niece would never forgive me if I don’t show up." I resume my packing with less enthusiasm but determined practicality.

"Want me to ride up with you? I could take the bus back tomorrow."

I smile gratefully at the offer, but shake my head. "No, you've already agreed to pet-sit. Besides, the solo drive will give me time to think."

Thirty minutes later, my bag is packed, the pets have been given extra attention to assuage my guilt at leaving them, and I'm ready to go. As Abby walks me to the door, I glance back at the flowers on my kitchen table.

"Keep an eye on the floral assassination squad over there," I say, nodding toward my pets. "Tiny will eat anything, and Mingo thinks flower arrangements are just fancy cat toys."

"I'll defend the bouquet with my life," she promises, striking a mock bodyguard pose. "Or at least with a spray bottle.”

I force a smile. "Thanks, Abby."

I head down to my car, trying not to feel as though the rug has just been pulled out from under my feet.

I had been looking forward to this visit with my family for weeks, long before Damien was in the picture.

I’m still looking forward to seeing everyone, with or without him.

Except making the trip with him felt like a turning point for us, for our relationship.

It still is a turning point. He just went a different way. Not that I blame him; his business places important demands on his time. It’s not like I don’t know that or respect it. I do. I’m just… disappointed. And yeah, I’m hurt.

The weekend stretches before me—still filled with family and celebration, but without the man I'd been so excited to introduce to my world.

I get into my car and pull out onto the street. Then I turn on some music to drown out the quiet voice in my head, wondering if this is what my future with Damien will always be like: beautiful flowers, heartfelt apologies, and empty spaces where he should be.