The Marriage Mistake_A Billionaire Hangover Romance

by Natalie Knight

  “I do enjoy all this.” I wave my arms around in an all-encompassing gesture. “But I’m a little overwhelmed. I’m used to simpler things. Do you think we can do something a bit simpler?”

  Instead of exploding in an angry tirade, Daniel smiles and nods eagerly, like it’s the best suggestion he’s ever heard.

  “Of course. Tomorrow. I promise, tomorrow we’ll do something normal.”

  I smile, relieved and excited at the same time. I can’t wait to see what Daniel’s idea of normal is.

  Daniel

  Okay, so I need to wrap my head around this concept of doing something simple. I’ve gone out of my way to show this girl how the rich and famous lead their lives and she asks for this.

  I scratch my head.

  But, of course, I agreed to her request. I mean, what else could I do? I want to spoil this girl and make each and every one of her dreams come true.

  Her wish should be my command.

  It’s easy for me. I’ve got the backing. She wants to look at the beach? No problem. I whisk her away to one of my resorts and make sure she gets a view of the beach—her own private beach.

  If she wants a ride on a helicopter, no worries. I can arrange anything money can buy.

  Diamonds, sapphires, and emeralds are easy to purchase. Vacations to any destination can be arranged, as can any mode of transportation―from expensive sports cars to a horse-drawn carriage, if that’s what her heart desires.

  Of course, a trip around the world or a visit to a five-star restaurant would all be a piece of cake.

  And boy, have I dated some girls with demands. Actually, demands is probably the wrong word. More like expectations.

  Let me be the first to tell you, women have fucking high expectations of men, particularly men with money.

  About three girlfriends ago, I was asked if I could arrange a meet-and-greet with some famous singer I had never even heard of.

  When Rose asked me earlier today for a favor, I was expecting a list of requests from meeting Hollywood superstars to buying her a diamond ring and a fucking Ferrari.

  But Rose asked for nothing like that. She wants simple.

  I can’t fucking believe I’m thinking this, but Rose is definitely the marrying kind. The kind who takes joy in the simple, everyday things in life. The kind who wants a baby.

  A family.

  And I’m even more shocked to admit that I’m on the same fucking page.

  I watch her as she’s curled up into a little ball, fast asleep. Her chest is rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

  She looks peaceful and happy. Maybe she’s dreaming about tomorrow already. If only I had a clue what a simple day really means.

  I don’t want to ask her. I don’t want her to think I’m a complete idiot who doesn’t know how to treat a woman on a date. We’re supposed to be getting to know each other.

  I sigh.

  I guess hiring a private yacht with a personal crew and chef to take us sailing wouldn’t be classified as simple. It’s just a guess, but I think I’m fucking dead right about that one.

  What about hiring a private guide to take us on a luxury cruiser—no, I’m pretty sure Rose would not call that simple.

  My head hurts from all the thinking I’m doing.

  Rose mumbles something in her sleep. I can’t make out specific words, but I imagine she’s saying my name and showering me with compliments.

  I’m surprised at myself. I find it interesting that I will go to great lengths to impress this girl. I mean, this is turning into hard fucking work.

  And I’m completely game for it.

  And I’m impressed Rose is asking me to tone things down. Human nature and my own experience dictate that people want more.

  Once the carrot of luxury and what money can do for you is dangled in front of someone’s nose, their appetite is piqued, and they can’t get enough of what they once only dreamed of.

  Clueless as to what ‘simple’ thing we can do tomorrow, I do the only thing anyone would do in my situation. I consult Dr. Google. Sure enough, after I type in simple things to do on a date, it takes less than two seconds for three hundred and fifteen billion results to appear.

  I scroll through the results, scanning the headlines.

  Fifty Fun Things to Do on a Budget

  One Hundred and One Ideas to Do With Your Date if you Have no Money

  Twenty-five Ways to Impress Your Date on a Shoestring Budget

  I cringe at each and every one of those headlines. I don’t want to read about things to do with Rose on a budget. There’s no budget to stick to. My budget is, well, it’s whatever I fucking want it to be.

  But her words buzz around my head like bees in a bottle looking for the way out.

  After taking a deep breath, I open one of the promoted websites.

  The picture of a couple strolling along the beach, hand-in-hand, catches my eye. They look like they’re walking into the sunset.

  I scroll through the list of cheap things to do. The suggestions range from walking hand-in-hand to browsing a second-hand bookstore or visiting an art gallery.

  I can’t see how any of those things will appeal to Rose. They’re too simple.

  With a sigh, I click onto another site.

  Surprise, surprise. It’s another suggestion for walking along the beach holding hands, going on a picnic. Visiting local bric-a-brac shops, making a fire outside and toasting marshmallows, and visiting a park to feed the ducks. Fucking seriously?

  I frown. Were these people for real? Who writes this shit? I want to spoil Rose and impress her, not bore her to tears.

  The longer I search on the world-wide-web, the more confused I get. One thing’s for sure—the most common piece of advice is that walking hand-in-hand on the beach thing―or anywhere for that matter, as long as it’s fucking hand-in-hand.

  I’m not convinced, but I vow to give it a go tomorrow. I promised we’d do something simple, and I never renege on a promise.

  The next morning, I’m prepared to put my research to the test. There’s something else I found out about Rose when I did some online research on her after we first met.

  “Morning, my beautiful Rose,” I greet her, holding a breakfast tray.

  Rose yawns, stretches, and blinks a few times. Her nose wrinkles a little as she sniffs the air.

  “Mmmm,” she begins, “what do I smell?”

  “I’m glad you asked.” I put the tray down to show her what I prepared. “Black coffee, toast, and sausage.”

  I want to say, I hope this is simple enough for you, but I bite my tongue just in time.

  Instead, I say, “I kind of did a little research on you and saw you like sausage.” I hesitate when I feel those large cinnamon eyes on me. “I…um…I assume you like this kind of sausage,” I point to the cooked sausage on the plate, “and not this one.” I point to my groin.

  Rose bursts out laughing. It’s a belly laugh, the kind that has her doubled over, holding her abdomen.

  Hearing her laugh makes me feel good, makes me feel like I’ve achieved something.

  There are tears streaming down her face, and she wipes them away.

  “Oh, Daniel.” She’s trying to catch her breath. “What can I say?” She grins, and it’s a wicked one, like a drink that I want to fucking drown in. “I like them both. But I like the sausage to eat, and yours…well, you know where I like yours.”

  A glow sparks in me and quickly grows into a flame.

  We eat breakfast in bed and laugh and joke about all sorts of things.

  “So, what are we going to do today?” When she’s finished eating, she curls up, cradling her cup of coffee and staring at me expectantly.

  For a few seconds, I’m so mesmerized by her that I forget what she asked.

  “Um, yes. Today. I thought we’d do something simple before we head home in the late afternoon.” I can’t understand why I’m suddenly acting like a fucking teenage boy who has never talked to a girl before.

 
“Sounds good.” Rose leans forward and gives me a little kiss on the nose. “I’ll go and freshen up.”

  It’s a slow start to the day, which suits me. I’m still a little uncomfortable with this simple day concept.

  When Rose is finally ready to leave the room, we head outside. She looks at me expectantly.

  I lace our fingers together, and I see her steal a glance at me.

  With a deep breath, I take a step toward the beach.

  “I thought we’d simply go for a walk today. Look at the water, collect some shells and,” I hesitate, “you never know, build a sand castle.”

  With a confidence I don’t feel, I start to walk. To my surprise, she falls in step with me and grips my hand a little tighter.

  As we stroll along the edge of the water, me holding Rose’s hand, I catch her looking at me in wonder from time to time, and it makes me feel like a million fucking dollars.

  Looks like this simple thing isn’t so hard after all. And as we walk on the edge of the water, the waves lapping at our feet, I think it’s actually not a bad way to spend a date.

  I feel very proud of myself, like I really achieved something today. I have this insatiable desire to prove to Rose that I can be anything she wants me to be.

  I don’t understand it. I’ve never felt like this about any woman before, and I’m suddenly really fucking glad I went into that tea shop…

  Rose

  Some weeks go faster than others, and this week slots somewhere in the not-quite-fast-enough lane.

  It’s a little bit difficult to concentrate on my work. My mind is on other things, and every time the phone buzzes to let me know there’s a text message, I feel the need to look at it right away.

  I devour each and every one of Daniel’s little messages.

  When I read his latest text, I’m giddy with excitement. I feel like a little girl about to eat her first candy.

  It’s silly, really. Why should I be this thrilled he’s asking me on another date? I mean, we all know this isn’t going to be love, but a business arrangement. But I can’t help my feelings.

  It’s nice to know he’s still interested after last weekend.

  So…I was just thinking…are you free this weekend?

  I chew my bottom lip and stare at my computer screen. It’s blank, reminding me I’ve done almost no work today.

  Should I just reply with an Of course I’m free or does that make me look desperate? I don’t want to look as desperate as I feel.

  I could write back something a bit more cryptic maybe, string him along a little. Although I don’t know how good it is to play this game of I’m busy, I need to check my schedule.

  Jesus, life can be really hard sometimes. Where’s the user manual?

  I mean, when you go and buy any kind of appliance, it always come with a manual. And any furniture you purchase has instructions on how to put things together. Although some of those instructions are not exactly clear either.

  Briefly, I ponder what the manual of life would look like.

  Chapter 1: How to Survive Being a Baby

  No. I shake my head. You couldn’t start the manual to life at babyhood. I mean, babies can’t read. All a baby can do is eat and scream and sleep.

  And I’m desperate to have one.

  Maybe chapter one starts with how to survive turning eighteen. Yes, that would be a good starting point.

  It could be given to you on your eighteenth birthday. Would it matter that you’d already committed a whole lot of mistakes by then?

  The second chapter would be about dating etiquette. And if everyone read the book, they would know what to do.

  Of course, I’m not really dating Daniel. It’s not like we met on an online dating service or at a club and wanted to get to know each other.

  Quite the opposite. I don’t think he’s really looking for a relationship, and deep down, I’m not either.

  But as we both are acutely aware, the biological clock is ticking—more for me than for Daniel. I mean, men can have babies at any old age.

  I’m pretty sure I read about a guy who was something like eighty and had fathered triplets. Crazy, I know.

  My eyes go back to the text.

  What did you have in mind?

  I re-read the message and then delete it. No, it’s too…I don’t know, too something.

  Where will you take me to this time?

  I squint. It reads a little better.

  I sigh.

  Should I Google my response? Would I find the answer?

  Without further thought or hesitation, I decide to press send. I’ve agonized over this little text for long enough. And it’s not like I’m trying to come off any certain way because we’re going to be together in any real sense of the word, right?

  This is just a getting-to-know-you experiment to make sure we want to take this baby bargain all the way.

  Instantly, his reply comes back.

  It’s a surprise xx

  There are multiple emoji faces accompanying his words.

  I chuckle. He’s speaking my language now.

  In that case, I’ll check my schedule.

  Of course, I don’t actually have to check my schedule. I mean, I’ve got nothing planned. It’s not like I’ve got admirers beating down my door or engagements for the next six months.

  On the contrary, my calendar looks rather sad and sorry with no special plans marked on it.

  As I’m about to let Daniel know I’ve checked and I’m free, another message comes in.

  What? So soon already?

  When I open it, I realize it’s from Jenna.

  Hey, babe, don’t forget Jayden’s big birthday party this weekend xox.

  Damn. I nearly had forgotten. Well, truth be told, if she hadn’t just sent me a reminder, I would have agreed to go away with Daniel.

  So much for those plans. I’ve got to go the family event.

  Back to Daniel’s message thread.

  I would really love to see you this weekend, but sorry—no can do. I’ve got something planned already.

  No sooner have I pressed send than the little device rings.

  I look around. No one’s looking in my direction.

  “Hello?” I keep my voice down so as not draw any attention to myself.

  “I can’t believe you’re not free this weekend.” Daniel’s voice is not his usual bright one. In fact, it’s a little flat.

  I feel flattered and about as disappointed as Daniel sounds. But there’s nothing I’m able to do about it. Family comes first.

  What’s more, my life wouldn’t be worth living if I don’t go to Jayden’s birthday. Not only would my parents give me a really hard time, I don’t think Jenna would ever speak to me again. The rest of my family would be no better.

  Best to just accept my fate for this weekend. Hopefully, there will be other ones to spend with Daniel.

  “What’s so important you can’t come away with me?” Daniel asks. “You’re not going out with someone else, are you?”

  I shake my head until I remember I’m on the phone.

  “No,” I quickly reassure Daniel. I can’t believe he would even think that of me. Does he think I’m fucking shopping around for baby juice or something? “Of course not.”

  “What is it, then? You going to the hairdresser? Girls’ night out? What?”

  Wow, I can’t believe he’s so upset. It makes me smile, in spite of myself.

  “It’s my cousin Jenna. It’s her son, Jayden’s, birthday party. The whole family will be there. I’m expected to go. I’m really sorry.”

  And I mean it. I am sorry I won’t get to see him this weekend. Whatever his surprise is, I’m sure I would have loved it.

  Now he’s silent.

  “You still there?” I ask, wondering if he just hung up on me.

  “You know,” I hear him say slowly, and I stop daydreaming. I was wrong. He hasn’t hung up on me. “It’s such a shame we won’t see each other. I was really looking forward to spend
ing more time with you. I totally respect that family comes first, though.” He pauses. “But you know I’m free this weekend…”

  Is that some bait he’s throwing out? Should I take it?

  Is he seriously suggesting I ask him to come to a family gathering, like meet my mom and dad?

  Oh, my god. Now things are moving really fast. His statement can mean only one thing, right?

  But if I bring him, then what? My thoughts tumble over each other. In my mind, I can already see my cousins drooling over him, my mother planning the wedding, and Dad kidnapping him to check him out properly.

  I mean, the minute anyone other than Jenna gets wind of me allegedly dating, there’ll be cartwheels, champagne corks popping, and talk of the dreaded W and B words.

  Is Daniel really ready to meet my family? I mean, we’ve not even agreed if this is going to work and how it’s going to work.

  What if, after meeting my family, he decides not to go ahead?

  It’s a silly thought, but I can’t shake it. I mean, of course I love my family, I really do. But that doesn’t mean others will feel the same way.

  The way Dad can sometimes go on and on about a game.

  And Mom, well, she’s just Mom, and she’ll offer him all kinds of food. And if he says no, she’ll try something else because, you know if you’re not eating, there must be something wrong. The choices as far as she’s concerned are either you’re sick or you don’t like her food.

  Stop it, Rose. I need to stop this train of thought and make a damn decision already.

  “Well…” I start and stop again. Wait and think about this, my inner voice screams, but I ignore it. “If you think you’re up for it, why don’t you come?”

  There, I’ve said it. I hold my breath as I wait for his response.

  He’ll probably say no anyway. I mean, anyone in their right mind wouldn’t come to a family gathering when he barely knows the girl.

  It’s not like we’re actually dating. And this kind of thing implies very much that we are.

  What if this scares him off? What if he wasn’t implying that he wanted me to invite him?

  The seconds tick by. My ear is pressed hard against my phone as I try to hear what he’s going to say.