The Billionaire's Trust (His Submissive, Part Eleven) Read Online Free

I’m
still getting a steady stream of calls for you.” I eyed the list in
front of me, ranging from board members to prospective clients who
hoped personal appeals would give them an advantage over those who
used their assistants to query for representation.
    Tucked in between calls rom
celebutantes and squirrely investors was a thread dedicated to
Alicia alone. After call one I told her that Jacob was unavailable
and was utterly swamped...and it was a waste of breath. Every call
started out with an apology about Macy and spilled into a list of
other reputable planners and businesses that could make all my
dreams come true. Every call I was quiet instead of telling her it
wasn’t my dreams because the only one that got ME was the
very woman she fired.
    Since she wasn’t actively trying to
end me and Jacob, I didn’t want to rock the boat but that left me
fielding calls from a woman that had a new project: turning my
wedding into an event talked about for years to come. I didn’t have
the guts to tell her I didn’t need a legion of planners, florists,
and staff to make my day special. The only thing I needed was
Jacob.
    But I hadn’t talked to him either.
As much crap as I gave Megan, her words got through. We needed to
talk about what he wanted. What I wanted.
    Well at the moment, I need something
to distract me from being so horny that I’m actually entertaining
the idea of phone sex.
    “You’re really quiet,” he observed,
his deep voice taking on the concerned edge that made me want to
spill my heart and soul to him.
    But I drug my feet, fidgeting in my
chair and suddenly not feeling chatty at all. He’d barely blinked
at lunch after his mother said she was trying. That she wanted this
to be their fresh start. if I told him a huge, lavish thing was
pretty much my nightmare, I knew he’d hear me and tell his mom to
back off and I didn’t want to cause any friction between them. And
the important thing was Jacob, right? Loads of brides hand over the
guest list to their parents and focus on things like the dress and
the cake and the bridesmaids.
    Either way, I needed to say
something if I didn’t want him to know how stressed I really was
about this whole thing.
    “I’m just thinking about wedding
stuff.”
    “So my mother’s been harassing you,
then?”
    Ding ding ding . “She’s
just...” Too much? Completely nuts? “Really excited.” I
opened my mouth, the truth lingering on my tongue. I could even
give him the watered down version. ‘It sounds nice, but I think we
should consider doing something smaller.’ or ‘What do you think
about doing something a little more low-key?’.
    “You know, I’m at the point where
I’m just gonna let her have at it.” Just when I was ready to hurl
the phone across the room he finished with, “As long as I get to
call you my wife at the end of all of this, the how’s aren’t
important. We’re important.”
    Great. He was simultaneously uber
sweet and contradictory without meaning to be. I’d never get tired
of hearing his excitement about making me his wife, but the reason
I was gritting my teeth and gripping my phone tight was because I
felt like we wouldn’t be represented in the ceremony. All the right
people behind the scenes, all the right names on the guest list. A
ceremony worthy of the Whitmore name. It was so far removed from
the essence of me and Jacob that you could just copy and paste
another society couple into our places and none would be the
wiser.
    It's not like it would suck. Nothing
less than fantastic would get that woman's stamp of approval. And
even though Jacob would rather chop off his arm than admit it, I
knew there were pieces of him that wanted a connection to his
mother. To try and grow and move past the things that happened in
hopes that the future was their chance to get it right.
    I released my choke hold on my lip,
tucking away the tiny voice that whispered ‘What about me?’ and
listened instead to how much I missed