New York Billionaires Series

Say Yes to the Boss 25



“Congratulations! You’re a newly-wed!” The sincerity in her voice makes me feel guilty.

“Thank you. It’s been very overwhelming, to tell you the truth.”

Freddie nods. “I can imagine. From what Tristan told me, it all happened rather quickly?”

Translation: give us the details.

So I do, telling them how we dated in secret and reached a point where we needed to make things official. He’d proposed, I’d accepted.

“It was a whirlwind,” I admit. “But sometimes, when you know, you know.”

My gaze lands on Victor as I speak. Standing in between all three of his business partners, his mouth a line, suit jacket still on. Holding himself apart, even here, amongst people he’s known for years.

In the brief time since I agreed to marry him, I’ve seen glimpses of someone else. Someone who is capable of dry, teasing humor and sly comments, who answers questions, often reluctantly, but never dishonestly. Even when he knows what he’s saying might be painful to hear.

“Yes,” I say. “When you know you know.”

Tristan uncorks a bottle of champagne and pours a glass for everyone, hands clasping around the stems of crystal flutes.

“Let’s have a toast to the happy couple,” he says.

Freddie and Summer urge me up and I give a half-embarrassed smile, not fake in the least. I walk across the plush carpet to stand next to Victor. Not letting myself hesitate, I slide my arm beneath his and lean into his side.

Blue eyes meet mine. “A toast,” he says, as if it’s the worst thing in the world.

“It won’t kill you,” I whisper. “Look happy.”

He smiles, a small but true smile that sends a shiver down my spine. His arm comes around my waist. “Bossy.”

Tristan clears his throat and I look up to see them all standing in a circle, glasses raised to us. I sweep my eyes over them all: my former boss, Anthony Winter with his charming girlfriend by his side, the constantly grinning Carter, and Freddie with a golden retriever at her feet.

People I would never have been able to meet just a month ago, who wouldn’t have exchanged more than a sentence or two with me while I was Victor’s assistant. Who had lives and wealths and opportunities unimaginable.

Toasting to our fake union.

“To Mr. and Mrs. St. Clair,” Tristan says.

“To Mr. And Mrs. St. Clair,” the others echo, glasses held high. I keep my smile on my face and lean into Victor. For the first time, I’m grateful for his aloofness, for the relentless strength that keeps my own from flagging.NôvelDrama.Org: text © owner.

Summer’s arms are tight around me. “Promise me,” she says.

I laugh, running a hand over the silk of her dress. My head feels light with champagne and laughter. “I promise!”

“I have absolutely no one I can run with in this city, and if I don’t run with anyone, I don’t run at all.”

“We’ll do it,” I say. “I’ll text you next week with a time and a place.”

“And you’ll guillotine me if I don’t show up.” She lets go of me, a blinding smile on her face.

“I might not be quite so drastic, but yes. Can Ace come too?”

“He might slow us down,” she says.

“How fast do you think we’ll run?”

She laughs again, not stopping as Anthony wraps his arm around her waist. He looks straight at me. “It was very nice to meet you, Cecilia.”

I think of the times I’d patched him through to Tristan. “Likewise. You’re welcome to join our running club if you want.”

Summer puts a hand on his arm. “Anthony doesn’t run.”

He nods. “I don’t. Besides, if I tried, I have a feeling Summer and I would argue the entire way.”

“We wouldn’t,” she protests.

“We would,” he says. “You’ll want to chat while we run, or stop for ice cream, or take a scenic route.”

“You make me sound like a distracted squirrel.”

“Aren’t you, though?”

Their banter and obvious closeness sends a pang through my chest. It sharpens when Anthony presses a kiss to her temple.

“Are you ready?” Victor asks. He has my coat in hand and I take it from him, sliding my arms through the sleeves. The hallway tilts when I flip my hair back.

“Woah,” I murmur.

In a move that mimics Anthony, Victor wraps his arm around my waist. That’s the second time tonight.

“Thanks for having us tonight,” I say to Tristan and Freddie. “For the champagne, for dinner… for everything.”

“It was our pleasure,” Tristan says. “See you around, St. Clair?”

Victor nods and presses the button for the elevator. His arm falls from my waist as soon as the elevator doors close behind us. I take a deep breath. “We did it.”

“Yes, we did.”

“And we survived,” I say.

“Did you think we wouldn’t?”

“I thought it might be a close call. They didn’t seem to question why we’d gotten married, either! At least not to our faces.”

“It’s probably all they’re talking about now.” He frowns, extending an arm to me. “How much did you have to drink?”

“Not a lot. Just what they offered.”

“They offer all the time. You don’t have to accept.”


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