The Wrong Fiancée: A Billionaire Second Chance Romance (Marriage by Contract Book 3)
The Wrong Fiancée: Chapter 16

I was such a fool. Dean showed me a little kindness, and I had, despite myself, started to think I meant something to him.

Stupid, foolish Elika wants things she knows she can’t have.

‘Excuse me, can we get a refill here?’ A voice jolted me back to reality. I turned, offering a polite smile as I poured another Mai Tai for a couple whose names I didn’t know but whose wealth was practically dripping off them. Everyone here wore gold watches and diamond bracelets, casually, like they were everyday accessories, which for them they were.

The setting sun lent a golden glow over the party, and after the speech and wedding announcement, the atmosphere shifted. The luau was about to begin, and tiki torches lined the pathway to the beach, where tables were set up for the evening. The smell of roasted pork filled the air again as chefs prepared to carve the kalua pig, and the bar I was stationed at started to pick up orders for cocktails. The sky was a mix of deep oranges and purples; there was a kind of magic to everything—the firelight dancing across the faces of the guests, the rhythmic pounding of tribal drums beginning in the distance.

I stayed behind the bar, making drinks like an automaton. It was the easiest place to hide my emotions—pouring, shaking, serving.

Dean would be married in a few months. Why did it bother me so much?

I didn’t believe in love at first sight or soulmates, but it was true that I had fallen in love with Dean, and right now, my heart hurt in ways it never had before.

Felicity dragged Dean to the bar, a lightness to her. Hell, if I was marrying Dean Archer, I’d also feel like I was walking on air.

‘One Mai Tai.’ Felicity didn’t even look at me. She turned into her fiancé’s arms, her hand resting on Dean’s chest like she owned him. Which she did!

‘Of course. And you, Mr. Archer?’

‘Just a Scotch, whatever you have.’

‘We have a Johnny Walker Blue, a Macallan 12, and a Lagavulin 16,’ I listed out. ‘If you want something else, I can get it from one of the bars.’

‘The Macallan is fine. Neat.’

‘Yes, sir.’

I grabbed some rum and juice for the cocktail. My fingers worked quickly, mixing the drinks with practiced ease I didn’t have to think about. I poured Dean a finger of Scotch. Felicity ignored me, which I appreciated. Dean didn’t. He looked at me for just a second too long as he took his whiskey.

‘Thanks, Elika.’ His eyes lingered on mine.

‘You’re welcome, sir.’

Felicity tugged him away toward a group of people by the fire pit. I watched as they disappeared into the crowd, her laughter carrying on the breeze.

The night picked up as hula dancers in grass skirts and tribal tattoos moved to the beat of the pounding drums, their movements synchronized, fluid, and hypnotic. The fire dancers came next, their torches spinning through the air, lighting up the dark sky with trails of flame.

Guests clapped and cheered, drinks sloshing in their hands as they swayed to the music.

Dean looked happy with Felicity. He really did. And who was I to question that? Who was I to feel jealous, to wonder if things could have been different? I wasn’t in his world. I had never been. I was just the girl who served drinks, who mixed colorful cocktails, who got caught up in something fleeting, a moment that was never meant to last.

‘Need another drink here,’ someone called from the other end of the bar, pulling me back into the present.

By the time the last guests left, it was nearly two in the morning. I was glad that someone else was going to be responsible for cleaning up because I was exhausted and desperately needed some sleep.

I walked back to my cottage, counting my blessings. This afternoon, I’d been worried I wouldn’t have a job, and now I’d get a raise and two days off every week. I was blessed. I should focus on the positive and not on how Dean looked when he hugged Felicity or how they both looked when they kissed.

I was so lost in thought that I didn’t see Dean sitting on the stairs on my small lanai until I all but stepped on him.

‘What on God’s green earth are you doing here?’ I blurted out.

Dean stood up slowly, his long frame unfurling from where he’d been sitting, and I couldn’t help but notice how tired he looked, even in the moonlight. He ran a hand through his hair, a habit I remembered all too well. The evening had been overwhelming enough; I didn’t need or want this.

‘I couldn’t sleep,’ he said quietly, his voice calm but with a strain underneath it. ‘I didn’t know where else to go.’

I crossed my arms, feeling elated that he had come to me and also deflated that he had no right to come to me. ‘Felicity, isn’t enough company for you tonight?’

He flinched just slightly, and it was enough to soften my edge. I let out a slow breath, trying to reset my thoughts. I shouldn’t care why he was here. This wasn’t my problem anymore.

I stepped around him to get to my door. ‘I don’t know what this is, but it’s late. You should go back to your fiancée. Back to your life.’

I didn’t wait for him to respond as I pushed my front door open, but I wasn’t fast enough to escape his words. ‘I don’t know what my life is anymore.’

I paused, my hand resting on the doorknob. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to laugh or scream. Was this some kind of apology? Or was it Dean thinking I’d spread my legs for him?

Humiliation filled me at the thought he saw me as easy and available. A whore?

I turned back to him, leaning against the doorframe. ‘I can’t help you figure out what your life is. I barely know what mine is. Also, you are none of my business.’

He took a step closer, his face barely illuminated by the soft glow of the lanai light. ‘If that’s the case, then why do I keep thinking about you?’

A thrill ran up my spine. But this man belonged to someone else, and I didn’t play those kinds of games. I was a decent-looking woman in the hotel business—I had more than enough sleazy married and engaged men make passes at me. That Dean was doing the same hurt in a visceral way.

‘That sounds like a you problem.’ I walked into the cottage, and he followed, closing the door behind him. But it wasn’t just his problem. I felt it, too, the connection—not just from the past but in the present. There was something between us that tugged at me just as it did him.

The past bubbled up between us, a secret neither of us was brave enough to speak aloud. The unfinished parts of us. The present. I clenched my jaw, forcing down the flicker of emotion rising in my chest.

‘You shouldn’t be here, Dean.’ I knew I sounded weak and frail.

The truth was that I wanted him here. Oh God, but I did. I remembered how cherished he’d made me feel that short time we were together. No one had wanted to take care of me before or since Dean. How hungry was I for affection that his small gestures of making sure I was fed made me fall in love with him? It was embarrassing to know I was so pathetic, like a wounded bird who was thrilled when someone gave me a stroke on the wing instead of a kick to my ribs. It had meant more to me than him. All my relationships were like that. My sister meant more to me than I did to her, same with my father—the freaking world.

‘You should go,’ my voice shook as I spoke. My back was turned to him. I was still holding onto my backpack as I stood in the dark, moonlight spilling in through the blinds. I dropped the bag on the old sofa and put my palms on the backrest, leaning, finding some support.

He’d kissed Felicity on that dance floor. He’d danced with her. Held her close. They’d laughed together and looked so happy.

Then why is he here now? Maybe he’s here because he feels something for me. Maybe…stop it, Elika. He’s engaged. He left you a thousand dollars like you were a whore. He told his friend you gave good head and were too uneducated, poor, and stupid to be suitable for him. Remember that. Keep remembering his words.

He exhaled, frustration and something deeper lacing the sound. ‘I know I shouldn’t be here. Believe me, I know.’

I felt a lump forming in my throat, but I swallowed it down, determined to stay in control. I couldn’t let myself get swept up in this. Not again.

‘She’s well suited for you. She has a PhD from an Ivy League school. She has all that polish. What did you say? Intellectual equal? Yeah, she’s that. I’m just a maid—I can talk to you about the best way to clean a toilet or how best to remove a stain from a carpet. Trust me,’ I turned around to face him, pulling my courage and strength around me because I was not going to be the other woman in this story; I deserved better. ‘You and I have nothing between us, no common ground, nothing. I’m sure you’ve fucked a lot of women since me—you definitely had before me—we’ve both moved on. It’s inappropriate for you to come here, knowing that I’m working for the resort you’re a guest at.’

Dean’s eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. ‘You think I’m trying to take advantage of you?’ His voice was rough now, raw, the calm exterior slipping. ‘I made a mistake. More than one, probably. But I’m not here to fuck you. As you keep pointing out, I have a fiancée. I’m not looking for extras.’

There it was, the anger, the entitlement. He was in my cottage, and he was behaving like I was throwing myself at him.

‘Good, because I’m not an extra; I’m the freaking main course,’ I said with more conviction than I felt. ‘You think I’m not good enough for you? Dean Archer, you are not good enough for me. I want to be with a man who sees people, not just their surface. The woman you’re engaged to may have all the qualifications you want but none of the qualities required to be a good and decent person.’

‘I’m not going to discuss Felicity with you.’ he snapped.

I closed my eyes for a second, gathering my thoughts. This was too much.

‘I don’t want you to discuss anything with me,’ I retorted, my eyes boring into his. ‘Now get out before I tell Mr. Giordano that you are harassing me by coming to my home.’

He took a step back. ‘You’re right. I should not be here.’

‘Well, look at that, I’m right about something.’ I folded my arms, feeling more confident about my stance.

He took a deep breath and tucked his hands in his pockets. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t come here to argue. I actually came…I came to tell you that the Thatchers will behave themselves. Dante has already talked to Sam and⁠—’

‘I know that already. You didn’t have to come to tell me that.’

He was changing his tune. When I got here, he said he didn’t know why he was here, just that he couldn’t sleep, and now he was doing me a favor. Well, he could go fuck himself.

‘I know,’ he said, his voice cracking, and it was the way he said it—so quietly, so broken—that made me look at him again.

I didn’t know what to say. There were a million reasons why this was wrong, why this could never work. And yet, standing there, looking at him, all of those reasons felt like they were slipping away, like sand between my fingers.

‘You need to leave,’ I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper, but I wasn’t sure if I meant it.

Dean didn’t move at first. He just stood there, searching my face like he was trying to find an answer I wasn’t ready to give him. Then, slowly, he nodded, his expression tightening as if he’d made some kind of decision.

‘Yeah,’ he murmured. ‘You’re right.’

I turned my back to him as I heard his footsteps taking him away from me. My heart hammered in my chest, and I watched him through the lanai window, disappearing into the darkness beyond the reach of the moonlight.

I stood still for a moment longer, staring after him, my mind spinning with a thousand thoughts, a thousand emotions.

Dean Archer had no place in my life anymore. I had told myself that a hundred times. But if that was true, then why did I feel like something important had just walked away from me?