A Double Dose of Billionaire - Part 3

I took a notepad from my handbag. I wished I had brought one of her cookbooks with me, but I left them all in my apartment. A piece of paper would have to make do. It'd be the most precious piece of paper I'd ever have.

She took the pen I offered. "To the loveliest fan I've met yet, Scarlet," she said as she wrote.

I carefully accepted my notepad back from Juliana, treating the two-dollar booklet as if it were made of gold. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome. Have a lovely evening."

"You've made it the best evening of my life."

Her husband came along and she wrapped her arms over his. Leonard Appleton—the man who made Juliana's success possible by tending to the family while she was out striving, a man who I also deeply respected.

The elderly couple bade their goodbyes and sauntered to the other corner of the ballroom to socialize with other wealthy folks.

Ryan stared at me, amused.

I squinted. "Don't judge me."

"I'm not judging." He spoke with a sarcastic and patronizing tone.

"You totally are. I was behaving like an awestruck blubbering idiot." I knew it, but I didn't control myself well enough.

He pointed at my chest. "I never mentioned anything of the like. You said it yourself."

"Bastard," I cursed, grinning.

Riley walked into our conversation. His spirits seemed to be up today. Smoothing his hair with a hand, he asked, "What's up?"

"Scarlet just met Juliana," Ryan replied.

"How was it?"

"Well, Scarlet said she acted like a blubbering idiot."

"You're supposed to disagree!" I fumed, my inner-self laughing.

Riley responded in his cool-as-a-cucumber manner as he usually did. "I'm sure she was great." A warm glow seeped into his eyes.

He always knew what to say.

"So how are the directors of TTA international reacting to the event?" I asked, trying to redirect the conversation to something unrelated to my moment of weakness.

Riley shrugged. "Nothing out of the ordinary. It's just a formality, anyway." But then he beamed at me. "You planned it very professionally, though. Thank you."

His charming smile nearly took my breath away. It should have been a crime for a man to look as good as he did.

"You're welcome," I said.

We chatted idly as time passed along. They made teasing jokes at me, while I tried to keep my expression stern. I acted like I hated being teased, but it was actually quite fun.

Then, Ryan visibly tensed.

Before I could ask him what was wrong, I got my answer. Mrs. Crawford was ambling toward us, the same man who I met at the twins' mansion following behind. She painted her lipstick extra red today. Just looking at her tempted me to smear her lipstick across her face before I slapped that smug grin away.

She flashed me a dismissive glance before turning to her sons. "How are my sweethearts doing? I'm sure you're not wasting too much time fooling around with unworthy playmates, are you, my darlings?"

How much I wanted to dig my manicure into her throat. "I'm certain their silver-spooned mother wouldn't let them hang around with such unworthy commoners," I cut in, distasteful sarcasm lacing my words.

Her jaw hardened, the same way the twins' bodies stiffened.

"Scarlet is more than worthy, Mom," Ryan said, pulling me closer with his arm. "And I don't appreciate you insulting my future wife, whether you put it mildly or not."

My cheeks turned pink at his blatant proclamation. I knew we were going to settle down together, since we decided we'd raise our baby in a joint effort, but they never mentioned marriage. How would that work out anyway, with two of them and one of me? The law wouldn’t accept it.

Mrs. Crawford parted her lips as she heard son’s rude, but truthful, accusation. "I never made any insults."

Riley sighed heavily. "We asked you to leave her alone. We're not leaving Scarlet, so you've just got to accept it."

She sneered, "I spend my years raising the both of you up, toiling away, giving up so many things. And this is how you treat me?"

"We didn't treat you badly. We only dated who we’ve wanted to."

"You dated women whom I don't like. What do you think your father will say about this?"

A gray-haired, regal-looking man joined our conversation. He had the same green eyes as the twins. With a concerned expression, he bent down and grabbed Mrs. Crawford's hand with his own. "Someone mentioned me?"

My mouth went dry as realization dawned onto me. He was the twins' father—Richard Crawford, the self-made billionaire who controlled most of the property market.

"Hi Dad," the twins said at the same time. They visibly loosened up after their father appeared.