[Formerly titled Billion's Bride]
[STATUS - EDITING]
"I want a church wedding."
"You want a church wedding?" He seethed. "Are you also open to consummating this holy matrimony?" Her eyes shot up to meet his. Her heartbeat could be heard in the quiet...
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"That will be all for today. Thanks for coming, ladies and gentlemen."
Emery gathered the notepad containing her business minutes after Dean concluded their last meeting, and followed the board of directors out of the conference room.
It's been a hectic day. Dealing with her moody boss coupled with a nerve provoking visit to the HR's office, just to cease the office obloquy.
Not to talk of the man who was still avoiding her like teenage pregnancy, her day was just the perfect definition of duress.
"Mr. Clifford," a man in security uniform waltzed by Emery and rushed over to Dean. "We have a problem, sir."
"That is why you're here as my head of security, Lucas. Deal with it," Dean snapped, and made to walk out on the man.
"I tried my outermost best, sir but he insisted on seeing you and since you were in a meeting, I let him in," the guard jumbled, gulping when Dean sent a glare his way.
"Who?" Dean questioned though he had a faint idea of who would dare to cause a stir in his firm.
"Mr. Dekker. He is waiting for you in your office, sir," the man said.
Emery skidded to a stop after the response. Billis here?
Dean didn't even wait a minute after the guard's words and stormed towards his office.
Out of curiosity, Emery snuck after her boss. She wasn't necessarily going to snoop. After all, she had to send the files from their meeting to his office.
· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·
Billion stood by the office window, his hands deep inside his denim pockets as he watched the ever-busy streets in boredom.
"What are you doing in my office?" Dean asked from the doorway.
"A minute longer in this godforsaken place, and I would have ended your meeting for you." Billion backed away from the window and stumbled over to the work desk.
The remark threw Dean off guard but that wasn't what troubled him. It was the haunted look in his friend's once lively eyes.
His calculative steps and disheveled look also made it obvious he was drunk hence Dean did not take his words to heart.
"What do you want?"
"The truth," Billion said simply.
"What are you talking about? Look, I don't have time for your games today…"
"How I wish this was some sick twisted game, Clifford," Billion seethed. "Why don't you sit, you must be tired carrying such burden of guilt, old friend."
