Free The Millionaire's Arranged Marriage by Tina Martin

breakfast this morning, but I heard som e of your conversation with her,” he says.
    “It’s okay. I didn’t go in depth with you before about the things Dilvan had done to me because I was ashamed, and I didn’t know whether or not I could trust you.”
    “You still feel that way?”
    “Ashamed, or not knowing if I can trust you?”
    “Both.”
    “ I feel like I can trust you now, and yes, I do feel embarrassed by the way I was treated by Dilvan. Has he always been this mean?”
    “Nah...he used to be cool back in the day. I didn’t hang around him as much, only because of our age difference, but I’m good friends with his oldest brother, Heshan. I think, when Dilvan turned eighteen, he sorta lost it...I don’t know if he got with the wrong crowd or what...he’s always had a sense of entitlement...he knew his family had money and it went straight to his head. Then, instead of joining the family business as his brothers had done, he decided to become a model, which suits him because he’s vain...always been obsessed with his appearance.”
    “Yeah. I guess that’s why he didn’t like me so much.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “He said I ugly.”
    “Do you believe that?”
    “That’s all I’ve heard for the last six months.”
    “But do you believe it?”
    I shrug . “I don’t know.” I say that because I really don’t know. When a person is told the same thing over and over again, even if they didn’t believe it before, eventually they start to feel like there’s some truth to it. And that’s the way I feel right now.
    “I’m going to tell you what I think, and I’m telling you this, not so that you feel go od about yourself because self-acceptance and esteem comes from within. I’m telling you this because it’s my opinion. I think you are beautiful, Gabrielle.”
    That brings a smile to my face. “Thanks.”
    “You’re welcome,” he responds, finishing his water and not taking his eyes off of me. “So I figured I can make us dessert at home.”
    “Really?”
    “Yeah. I’m a pastry chef...well, I know how to cook other things too, but I specialize in desserts.”
    “Really?” I ask again, sounding like a broken record.
    “Yes,” he says grinning. “ Really.”
    “ And I thought you were Padma’s handyman...”
    “No...you thought I was her clean-up guy,” he says then laughs.
    I laugh to.
    “ Nah, I’m not her handyman. I help her out every now and then, but I’m a chef by profession. I cook all of the desserts for Padma’s Food House . Has she ever taken you there?”
    “Yeah, once, but I didn’t eat. I was a volunteer waitress one weekend when Dilvan was away for a shoot, because otherwise, he wouldn’t let me go.”
    “Well, you’re in for a treat. I’m going to make a dessert especially for you.”
    “ Mmm...I can’t wait.”
     

 
     
     
    CHAPTER 13
     
    Dilvan
     
    - - -
     
    Dilvan sat out on the front deck at his house, staring off into the darkness, listening as ocean waves crashed together. He hadn’t eaten any of the spread that Beatrice laid out because his appetite was just like his wife – gone.
    What have I done?
    He asked himself that same question over and over but didn’t answer it because what he had done, in hindsight, was too painful to think about.
    Beatrice interrupted his thoughts when she came strolling out onto the deck. “Is there any thang I can do before you turn in?” she asked.
    “No. Thanks, Beatrice.”
    “If you don’t mind my nose in your business, Suh, I didn’t ‘spect you home ‘til Sunday night.”
    “Yeah...had to come home early.”
    “Well, I hope er’thang is okay.” Beatrice turned to walk away.
    “Beatrice,” he called out, then turned to look at her.
    She was instantly appalled by his bloodshot eyes and the overall look of despair on his face.
    “U m...” he said, trying to find the right words to express what he was feeling. “I messed up, Beatrice. I messed up.”
    Beatrice strolled over