The Secret Wife of a Billionaire 282
The Billionaire’s Sudden Bride
Chapter 282
Summer’s POV
I sprawled across our Manhattan apartment’s couch, mindlessly flipping through TV channels. Nothing caught my interest–not the reality shows, the news, or even those home renovation programs Isually loved. The remote clicked rhythmically as I cycled through the options for the third time,
Brandon was in the kitchen, the soft sounds of chopping creating a homey soundtrack to my boredom. The mouthwatering aroma wafted through our apartment, but even that couldn’t hold my attention.
God, I was so bored.
I tossed the remote aside and padded over to the kitchen doorway, aning against the frame, I watched Brandon work his magic. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing his forearms as he expertly handled a chef’s knife.
“Brandon, are you absolutely sure you don’t need my help?” I asked, playfully gripping the doorframe.
He glanced up, the corner of his mouth quirking upward. “I’m sure.”
“I could keep you company then,” I offered. “We could chat while you cook.”
Brandon’s knowing gaze met mine. “I don’t think you’re actually interested in talking. You’re just bored and need someone to entertain you.”
Busted. I bit my lip to hold back a laugh.
Brandon set down his knife and wiped his hands on a nearby towel. Come here,” he beckoned.
I practically skipped over to him. “Yes, sir! What are your orders? I’m at your service!” I gave him a mock salute.
He almost reached for my head but stopped, noticing the oil on his fingers. “Stop being silly. If you’re that bored, you can help me by sorting these vegetables.”
He handed me a basket of fresh produce. As I started working, I couldn’t help stealing glances at him. The way his brow furrowed in
concentration was hypnotic.
Brandon caught me staring and shook his head. “If you keep looking at me like that, we might not get dinner at all tonight,
I felt heat rise to my cheeks but was saved by the shrill sound of our doorbell.
“Who could that be?” I wondered aloud, setting the basket down.
I peered through the peephole and did a double–take. What the hell?
I opened the door to find Dr. Sean Sullivan leaning against our doorframe, holding a fancy fruit basket.
“Hey there! Long time no see!” he greeted me with that megawatt smile.
“Dr. Sean! What a prise,” I replied, a polite smile plastered on my face. “Please, come in.”
I glanced at his feet as he entered. “Don’t bother with taking off your shoes. Just come on in.”
Dr. Sean sauntered into our living room, placing the fruit basket on our coffee table before looking around the apartment.
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Chapter 282
“Not bad, not bad at all. It’s been what, six months since I was last re? Didn’t expect it to look so… different!”
I noticed he was dressed surprisingly light for the chilly weather–just the suit and shirt, no overcoat. I grabbed a glass of warm water and handed it to him.
“Here, warm yourself up a bit. You must be freezing.”
“Thanks.” He accepted the glass, then looked around with furrowed brows. “Wait, Brandon didn’t tell you I was coming over today?”
I shook my head.
“That jerk!” Dr. Sean exclaimed, wandering further into the apartment. He’s the one who told me to come up in the first place. Where is he anyway?”
Dr. Sean poked his head into various doorways until he found the kitchen, then suddenly froze. I peeked around him to see Brandon standing there, knife in hand, with a deadly expression.
“Hey, buddy,” Dr. Sean laughed nervously. “Um, maybe don’t hold that knife while giving me that look? It’s seriously terrifying.”
“Man, never thought I’d see this day,” Dr. Sean continued. “Back in the day, I always thought you’d be the cold–blooded one out of all of us. Probably the only one of the ‘Four Kings of Wall Street‘ who’d end up alone. But look at you now… completely domesticated!”
Brandon raised an eyebrow, and Dr. Sean visibly tensed.
“Just kidding! Just a joke!” he backpedaled quickly. “Technically speaking, Ethan’s the one most likely to end up alone forever!”
“Get out,” Brandon muttered, the hint of a smile betraying his feigned annoyance.
I returned to the living room, settling on the floor next to the garbage can with the basket of vegetables. I started sorting through them, removing any bad spots.
Dr. Sean wandered back in, towering over me as I worked.
“Summer,” he said with a dramatic sigh, “Brandon is so inconsiderate How could he make a delicate flower like you do such menial
labor?”
I looked up at him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, this kind of rough work should be done by a man!” He turned toward the kitchen. “Right, Brandon?”
I bit back a smile, seeing the perfect opportunity. “You know what, Dr. Sean? I think you’re absolutely right.”
He beamed at me. “See? I knew you’d agree! Brandon just doesn’t understand how to properly treat a lady.”
Without hesitation, I handed him the vegetable basket and stood up. Here you go then! Since this is man’s work, I’ll leave it to you.
I’m going to watch some TV.”
Dr. Sean’s face fell comically. “Wait, what?”
I cocked my head inocently. “But aren’t you a man, Dr. Sean?”
“Well, yes, but he stammered, looking down at the basket like it contained live snakes.
“You know, Summer,” he sighed, “you used to be so sweet and innocent. How did you turn so… Brandon–like?”
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I smoothed my shirt and smiled sweetly. “In our home, guests follow the host’s rules. Don’t you think that’s fair?
Dr. Sean’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.
Brandon emerged from the kitchen, and Dr. Sean immediately appealed to him. “Bro, look what your wife is making me do!”
Brandon crossed his arms. “What about my wife?”
“She’s forcing me to sort vegetables!*
“Don’t like it? There’s the door, Brandon replied coolly.
Defeated, Dr. Sean perched on a small stool and began sorting vegetables, occasionally shooting me betrayed looks over his designer glasses.
Dinner was surprisingly pleasant. Dr. Sean attacked his food like he hadn’t eaten in days, though he still maintained elegant table manners while shoveling food at remarkable speed.
Brandon and I had already finished and were watching Dr. Sean continue to enthusiastically devour everything in sight.
“Dr. Sean, slow down. Nobody’s going to steal your food,” I cautioned pouring him a glass of water as he finally appeared to be winding down.
He gulped it down gratefully before returning to the last bits on his plate.
“Seriously, when was the last time you ate?” I asked, genuinely curious. “You’re acting like this is your first meal after hibernation.”
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