Divorcing The Billionaire On Valentine's Day

29. Grayson

GRAYSON

I walked into the office in a sour mood and the bright smile on Alicia’s face when I walked through the door did nothing to help either.

“Good morning Mr Archer.” She chirped.

One look, that was all it took to remind her where exactly she was. At work and not at a park or some tea party. Misery loves company and I wanted her to feel just as shitty as I did, was that too much to ask?!

Still with a smile on her face, she tucked her schedule in her hand and followed me into my office, a mug of coffee in one hand and paperwork in the other, just like always, the only difference was that damn smile on her face.

My left eye twitched as I narrowed my gaze on her smile. She normally had just a polite smile on or maybe she actually did smile that much usually and I just noticed because I was in a ‘strangling the next i***t I meet’ kind of mood.

I pried the mug from her limber fingers. Warm happiness flowed through me the moment the cup touched my lips. Just what I needed to get me through the day. She always knew what I wanted, when I wanted it and how I wanted everything, it was one of the reasons I kept her after discarding at least a dozen applicants in the same month. The other being she actually had a functioning organ between her eyes.

Agitation passed away slowly the more I drank from the mug. Alicia just stood there as always, despite how weird it seemed, she always just stood and watched me drink. As if on an invisible clock in her head, at exactly eight fifteen, she pulled the writing pad from her underarm and handed me my schedule for the day.

“Thank you Alicia.” I offered as I skimmed through it. A bunch of meetings that didn’t exactly matter to me. I stopped my finger trail when I saw it. Maybe all hope wasn’t lost yet. I’d totally forgotten it was an annual thing. Talk about perfect timing. I settled the mug on the table.

She dumped the paperwork a little to the right of the mug, “The annual fundraising gala is today?” I asked still to be certain. It always held in May but the dates were usually scattered along the month. Last year it was the second of may, the year before that it had been the twenty fifth and I guess this year was my lucky number, fifteenth. The reason? I had no idea but if I were to guess it was to keep uninvited guests from crashing the party.

It was a gala hosted by Zachary Van Doren afterall, only the one percent of the one percent ever got an invite. “Yes sir. Starts at 7 this evening.” Her head bobbed with excitement like she was invited. Well technically she was. I always got an invite which covered myself and my plus one and wherever I went, my assistant went, it went without saying really.

“Would the blacks be in attendance?” Her lips stretched in a wider smile.

“Yes sir, they’re number 10 on the invite list.” I wasn’t even going to ask how she got access to that list. It was kept under wraps and even the invited guests themselves never got access to it, they just showed up and saw who else was invited. But I wasn’t complaining, as long as she was using her reach for me, no problem.

“Alright then.” I leaned back. My chest lighter. I hadn’t won yet, but all I needed was that physical meeting with Carl. He knew it and I knew it. It was why he had been taking extra care to avoid it. Skipping country club days, using his assistant as a barrier, his direct call cell going to voicemail all the time, if reeked of avoidance, but he wouldn’t miss a Zachary gala, he wasn’t insane yet, plus if there was one thing Carl loved, it was rubbing shoulders with ‘his kind’. His words, not mine.

I’d been too busy smirking at the invite that I almost missed Alicia who still stood by the door, her hands laced together before her.

“Anything else?” I c****d a brow at her.

She opened her mouth to speak but reconsidered. One look at my face as she spat it out. “Sir, what colors would we be going for today. I’m thinking of stopping by a boutique close-by during my lunch break to grab a dress.”

Ah. Yes. I almost forgot. “There would be no need for that, Alicia.” I leaned back in my seat, the knots that had plagued my joints all morning, gone.

“Oh you would prefer to get the dress?” She arched a brow at me, the surprise on her face clear. “In that case, I’m a size six, I already have a pair of black pumps so there would be no need to get any shoes.” She ratted off like she was ticking a mental checklist.

“No Alicia. I won’t be getting a dress. At least not for you anyways.” I said slowly so there was no room for misinterpretation, I would really hate to have to repeat myself. “I would be taking my wife to this one.” Surprise. She wore it like a rainbow of many colors. Then shock. Her cheeks reddened, in embarrassment? Anger? I couldn’t be sure, but whatever it was, it was gone in a millisecond and her usual neutral face was back, dotted neatly with a polite smile.

“Understood sir.” She nodded, the action rigid and strangely edgy. “Would that be all?” She gritted like she was being forced to speak.

I had heard of women getting mood swings but I never thought she would be one of those. Either way, it wasn’t a problem I had to deal with.

“Not quite. Kindly send a dinner dress, you know my preferences and a pair of jada Dubai passion diamond stilettos to my home address, address it to Adeline.” I tossed one of the invites to her, she fumbled the catch. She was definitely having an off day. Maybe she needed one. “Add the invite to the package. You can do that by four in the evening and take the rest of the day off.” Alicia was one of the few staff efficient enough to be kept longer, I would hate for her to crash right before my eyes. “Preferably in red.” I quickly added. Red with glitters. Just like the dress she wore that day.

Alicia nodded her head, the action practiced and almost robotic. She turned to leave when I remembered who I was sending a delivery to, she would rather bite her finger off than listen to a word I say without arguing, or perhaps bite mine. I tore a page from my small emergency jotter and wrote an ‘explanatory’ note on it. I even threw in a few corny lines and everything to make it disgustingly cheesy for her benefit, or to make her cringed out enough to accept, either one works.

“Add this.” Alicia took the paper from my fingers, eyeing it like it was a pesky beast she wanted to decapitate. “Make sure she gets it.”

“Alright sir.” She nodded and left without another word.

I crossed my legs at the ankle over the table, suddenly lighter than before, partly because the gala was the solution, and mostly because I could finally start stacking my cards, moving chess pieces on the board, whatever. I could finally start worming my way into her heart, make her willing to be tied to me, the moment she did, she would be at my mercy and I would finally teach her a lesson she should have been taught long ago. Never make a powerful man beg.