The Birthday Deadline (Billionaire Brides) (2 page)

"Who...who are you?" I slowly mumbled, blinking away the tears in my eyes as I stared at the handsome hunk of man in front of me.

For a moment, the broken sunflower was forgotten in the midst of his dreamy green eyes. Black curls hung down his olive toned forehead, ebony suit gathering dirt at the knees as he knelt in the middle of my mess. He was beautiful, like a statue or a painting or something equally fantastical that shouldn't actually exist in real life. Especially not in the middle of my little flower shop.

"Sebastian." He responded politely, "Now, about your friend, here?” He added, lifting up the limp plant once more.

"Oh. Of course!" I murmured, blush beginning to bite at my cheeks.

I cleared my throat, standing and rushing away to the front desk. I brushed dust off the unused surface, searching the drawers. I returned a few minutes later with a bamboo stake, tape, and a brand new pot for the little guy.

As Sebastian watched, I carefully deposited the plant in the new pot, staking it carefully so it stood straight with a newly taped together stem.

"If it's not too badly damaged, that should keep it alive." I said quietly, giving the remaining petals of the plant a gentle brush. It’d lost quite a few of its brilliant petals in the tumble.

“Good.” The man said with a resolute nod.

We stared at each other for a few moments, silence weighing on our shoulders. Who was he?

"So, you know my name, but I don't know yours yet." He said suddenly, watching as I knelt down on the ground and began to sweep up some of the ceramic shards.

I paused, unexpectedly shy. I’d communicated much more with flowers than people, lately. Especially not incredibly beautiful people like Sebastian. His gaze followed me intently, as though he were studying my each and every move. I wasn't use to working with such intense watching.

"Delilah." I finally said, glancing up at him and then away.

He hummed thoughtfully, tapping his chin, "And you work here, Delilah?"

"I own here." I replied with an uncomfortable laugh.

Standing, I dumped out the broken plant pot, delicately setting the mending sunflower back on the shelf where it could receive its light. Again, its large head bopped joyously in the breeze

"You own this place?" Sebastian continued curiously, "How did that come to happen?"

I turned back to face him, frown crossing my lips. I wasn't normally questioned so much by customers. Was he a court server, here to give me my final eviction?

He faltered as I stared at him, clearing his throat, "I used to come by here." He said quickly, "Every now and then, when I was younger. I knew the owners."

"My parents." I replied quietly, "The owners of this place before me were my parents."

"Ah." Sebastian said uncomfortable, now it was his turn to be unnerved by my intense stare, "I don't suppose they still visit then?"

Another frown flitted across my face, brow creasing just slightly. He didn't know yet. I hated having to tell people.

I clenched the handle of the broom, shifting my feet nervously, "I'm afraid they don't." I said quietly, "They passed away several years ago."

Sebastian blinked, lips parting in surprise. His gaze flickered around again, as though for a moment, he didn't believe my words and waited for them to pop out from some corner. I would be lying if I said I didn't still do the same thing every now and then.

"I'm sorry." I finally offered, as realization registered in his eyes.

"No." He said quickly, "I should be the one apologizing. I didn't mean to be so cold. I haven't been in town for some time, I wasn't aware..."

"Did you come here often?" I asked curiously, studying his face.

He was so very familiar, yet I wasn't sure if I where I could place him. Perhaps I had seen him around the shop occasionally, God knows I basically have lived within these pastel walls my entire life. Though he seemed more familiar than that. I'd seen those green eyes somewhere, I was sure.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" I finally added with a frown, tapping my fingernails against the wooden broom handle, "You look so familiar."

Sebastian tilted his head, one of his eyebrows arching just faintly, "I have one of those faces." he finally offered with a shrug.

I nodded slightly, though I wasn't inclined to agree at all. The face on those broad, muscled shoulders was not one easily mixed with any other.

The handsome man slowly began climbing up to his feet. He didn't even bother to brush the dirt from his knees. I wasn't an expert on fine suits, but judging from the way Sebastian's black ensemble clung to his muscled frame in just the right places, I was sure it was tailored, and probably not easily replaced.

"I'm so sorry." I mumbled weakly, pointing at the dirt stains on his clothes.

I frowned, hastily glancing around for a towel. The only ones I had were just as grimy as anything else in the place.

"Can I pay to get it cleaned?" I finally asked, trying not to cringe visually at the thought. I'd have to put it on my already overpaid credit card.

"No need." He shrugged, emerald eyes slowly casting a slow glance around my small place, "This is an old suit anyways. On its way out."

"Is there anything I can do?" I asked fervently, "I'm afraid I don't have much spare cash at the moment, but would you like some free flowers?"

His eyes abruptly shifted back to me, one corner of his full lips twitching, "Ah. Actually, there is something you can do for me." He began slowly, brushing his black locks out of his eyes.

"Of course." I said, beaming at him, "Anything."

"Marry me." He said simply, voice as casual as if he were simply asking about the weather, "Marry me, Delilah."

“What the hell?” I gasped, eyes huge and locked right on the tan faced man, “Say what now?”

“Delilah.” He began, voice slow and monotone, as though he were unsure I could actually speak English, “Will you marry me?”

“You don’t just go around asking that randomly!” I snapped, kicking a leftover piece of the broken ceramic pot, “People will think you’re a complete weirdo!”

“Maybe I am a weirdo.” Sebastian sighed with a frown, voice surprisingly resolute, “Maybe I am.”

“Why did you ask something like that?” I said, moving away from him. I needed space, who knew what was going to come out of the man’s mouth next.

“My name is Sebastian Fox.” He said suddenly, “My father is Cornelius Fox.”

“…Fox?” I said quietly, racking my brain. Again, the familiarity pinged in my brain.

Briefly, all that came to mind were images of cute little auburn animals frolicking about. Then, suddenly, realization struck me squarely on the forehead.

“Oh my god, you’re Sebastian Fox!” I cried, slapping my hands over my face as the broom I was holding crashed to the floor.

Sebastian Fox, handsome billionaire extraordinaire, built his company from the ground up as soon as he'd graduated from high school. A medical firm constantly pushing out the latest and greatest of remedial technology, he'd been completely financed by his father.

I’d seen his face all over billboards and magazines, in fact, I was sure I’d just recently seen him on the morning interview shows.

He was even sexier in person than he was on the TV screen.

“Yes.” He said listlessly, “That would be me.”

“Well, Mr. Fox,” I stammered, “I still don’t understand why you would be proposing to people you don’t even know?” Was it some strange kind of game people wealthy beyond belief liked to play?

He grimaced, holding up a perfectly manicured, tan hand, “Please. Sebastian, not Mr. Fox. Well, I’m sure you’re aware of my company, then?” He said.

I nodded hastily, my eyes still huge as could be. Of course I’d heard the strides in medical care that the Fox Foundation was making. They did conferences constantly, their name was lauded on the news every day with each new miracle they handed out. I almost felt like I should drop my knees and worship him as a medicinal God.

“Then you will understand why I can’t lose it.” He continued gravely, “I can’t let everything that I have just slip through my fingers.”

“What are you talking about?” I pressed in confusion, unable to connect the vague dots, “What does your business have to do with you proposing to random girls?”

He cleared his throat, eyes darting around uncomfortably, “Well.” He began slowly, “When I first approached my father about starting my own company, he was skeptical.”

“You were young.” I said quietly, “Still in your teens, right?”

Sebastian gave a shrug and a nod, “I was young, but intelligent. My father agreed to help finance me.”

“That was kind of him.” I offered.

Before Sebastian set out to start the medical based business, his father, Cornelius, owned a lucrative computer tech chain. He’d also started that from the ground up when he was as young as Sebastian. It didn’t surprise me that the elder Fox billionaire understood his son’s drive for ambition.

“Yes, but it was not without strings attached.” Sebastian sighed, leaning against the window.

The light from the outside shone in, illuminating deep purple streaks in his black hair.

“Strings?” I said quietly, entranced by his beauty. Were men supposed to be this gorgeous?

The billionaire nodded, fiddling with one of his now crinkled sleeves. He obviously didn’t like to speak about himself.

“Yes.” He said quietly, “My father said that starting a business at such an age was admirable, however it was time consuming, life consuming really.”

I nodded in agreement, almost laughing, “You can say that again.” I smirked, jerking my chin towards my shelves, “I barely do anything outside of these walls.”

One corner of Sebastian’s mouth twitched, the closest to a smile he ever seemed to get, “Yes.” He replied, “And so my father told me that I had to be married by thirty, or he would take the company from me. It was all started with his name, after all, and even though I built it up, it was his money.”

“That’s cruel.” I said quietly, frowning, “To hold such a thing over your head.”

Sebastian sighed, glancing sideways out the window, “When I get angry, I think of it as cruel, but my father was simply trying to protect me. He knows the tribulations of having such a demanding career and trying to balance that with a home life. He was hoping I would be quicker at the pickup than he was.”

“Isn’t your thirtieth birthday coming up soon?” I said with a frown, trying to remember what I’d seen on TMZ about a huge bash for him.

The billionaire winced, nodding, “A week from tomorrow.”

For a second, I had to laugh, “That’s my birthday, too!” I said, grinning.

Then, slowly, the grin fell from my lips, “…you waited until one whole week before your deadline to start proposing to people?” I asked incredulously, “I would think you’d have more planning than that!”

Sebastian chuckled mirthlessly, “You would think.” He sighed, “But it was easier to just lie.”

“Lie?” I asked, “To Cornelius?”

The handsome man nodded, turning back to me, “Yes. I told him all sorts of lies about the girl that I proclaimed to love, how I proposed, how many dates we went on.” His face contorted, shame in his eyes, or perhaps that was humiliation.

“And all along…there was no girl?” I whispered with a shake of my head. He could have paid someone else off long ago, in fact I was sure women were constantly throwing themselves at his tailored shoes, but he was still single?

He shook his head, lips pursed into a severe, taut line, “But now there is.” He said hopefully, staring at me intently.

“Sebastian…” I said, frowning, “I can’t do that…I can’t lie to your family. I can’t…marry you!”

Marriage.

The very word twisted in my stomach like a sharp knife, it made me want to puke all over the billionaire’s fancy black shoes. I’d never even thought of myself as the marrying type. I couldn’t give myself to a man who I didn’t know, I couldn’t stand at the altar with someone who only wished me there to ease his burden.

“Your shop is failing.” Sebastian said matter of factly.

He didn’t even bother to point out the dust, the lack of customers during our entire conversation, or the sparseness of my shelves. He didn’t have to point out any of that, because I was already well aware.

“And?” I asked, pushing the end of my ponytail off my shoulder. I could tell where this was going. I wanted to hear the words, yet, at the same time, I dreaded them.

“I will save it.” He said, “I can help your shop find its life again. I have the money, the publicity specialists, I can find you so much business you won’t even know how to keep up with it.”

“Won’t I find myself in the same spot you’re in now?” I asked, “Won’t I owe everything to you?”

“No.” Sebastian responded quickly, “Everything will be in your name, plus, we’ll be married, Delilah. My money will be your money. I will owe you my entire life. I’ll owe you anything and everything, I will give you everything you see, everything you ever desire, even in the slightest.”

I held up my hands, overwhelmed by the offers he was throwing, eyes squeezing shut, “I don’t want all those things.” I insisted, “I don’t want anything except for my shop. That’s all I’ll need.”

“Then you’ll have it.” Sebastian responded.

He walked closer to me, dropping down to both of his knees as he grabbed my hands into his, squeezing my fingers delicately.

“Delilah,” He whispered, “I’ll ask one more time. Will you marry me?”

Though our circumstances were different, our needs were very similar. My florist shop was going under, and fast. These four walls had been my parents dream, and when I'd inherited the shop it became my dream as well. Unfortunately, I lacked the finesse that they had with business, and I'd been unable to keep the small flower shop afloat. Before Sebastian walked through those doors that day, I'd been sure I'd have to close down within a week.

I swallowed, lost in the emerald jewel eyes of the billionaire.

“Yes.” I finally whispered back, “Yes.”