Billionaire's Accidental Wife

Chapter 20

Chapter 20 Later that evening, fireworks burst overhead, eager laughter swirled around Chelsea, and

an attentive waiter pressed a margarita with freshly crushed mint into her hand. After dinner earlier, she

managed to call Jane and Catherine, and they decided to have a girls’ night out, which involved Shawn

Richmond driving the car and giving them VIP passes through the most expensive, new, and well-

known pub in the city. It had been a wonderful reunion, and the three of them ended up sobbing and

hugging and eventually ruining their make-up.

Ah, this was life. After almost another drink, Jane was almost wasted and Catherine called her younger

child on the phone, singing a lullaby. God knows what sort of Peppa Pig song it was. She shook her

head and smiled at the embarrassed mom. It had been a couple of years, yet Chelsea saw how the

couple still looked at each other’s eyes like they were the only ones in the room.

“This is life, right?” Jane grumbled to Chelsea with a grin. She looked beautiful in a knee length dress

of shimmery silver gems, while Catherine wore the same sparkling mini-dress accentuated by

moonstone clasps at the shoulders and a simple belt that brought out the deep brown of her eyes.

“Chelsea, would you believe Shawn wanted to have this fundraiser in a stuffy old ballroom? On a

beautiful clear night like tonight?” “It’s a good thing he has Cathy to talk him out of it,” she said with a

playful dig at Shawn’s tuxedoed ribs. “I would not have wanted to miss this.”

“I second the motion,” Shawn said, raising his glass as if for a toast while Catherine was still busy

talking to her kid on the phone.

Chelsea was excited to see them, and they had already arranged for some time this week to visit the

couple’s mansion. Earlier, Catherine asked about her and Dave, but she just gave her a cold shoulder.

For now, there was nothing to talk about just yet; for now, she wanted to forget the beautiful bastard.

However, tonight’s dance, banquet, and general-purpose give-us-your-money event were to raise funds

for Richmond’s latest favourite charity, a group that bussed children in homeless shelters to the library

every day, and watched over them while their parents were out working or looking for jobs. This time,

two years ago, the only charity Shawn had been interested in was the society for the relief of young

naked bimbos, but Catherine had made him a changed man. These days he actually sought out

opportunities to do good without the help of his late grandfather, now on his own without any prompting,

and when he encountered a cause that didn’t have a fundraiser-or even one that did but didn’t seem

big enough or glamorous enough to raise the necessary awareness or funds-he made one. “So, how

much are we getting so far?” Chelsea asked Shawn.

He pulled up some numbers on his phone. “Oh, about nine hundred thousand,” he said off handedly.

“But I think we can get up to a million by the end of the night, maybe even to five. Thanks for donating

those beautiful pots to the auction table, by the way.”

“Well, I just hope you guys aren’t counting on me for that last two million,” she joked, trying

to cover up her blush. Anything close to a compliment about her work tended to do that and being

asked to donate an item for a high-end auction definitely counted as a compliment. “I mean, I’m good,

but I’m not that good on the fringes or anything.” She said and thought about how she missed going

like this, but with a guilty feeling that those children in Kenya were the ones who taught her pottery, and

it was just a mere coincidence that what she made was left untouched by her sister. “Every little bit

helps,” Jane added. “And don’t underestimate yourself, Chelsea. I’m pretty sure I saw the famous Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

singer giving them the eye at the auction table earlier.” “Woah, the hot Michael Libson?! He is here?!”

She squealed, travelling up the scale in about three seconds. Shawn rolled his eyes fondly. “I’ll leave

you three ladies to the fangirling. I’ve got to circulate, press the flesh.” Catherine made a mock-warning

face. “Press the flesh, huh?” Shawn kissed her cheek. “Only of the oldest, ugliest, and most wealthy

couples in London, dear, I assure you.” Catherine gave his butt a little swat. “Well, alright. As long as

they don’t press back” They gave each other a lingering kiss on the lips before Shawn headed out, and

Chelsea looked steadfastly away, trying not to feel the jealousy warming up inside Chelsea. She wants

that sort of relationship.

It was easier with Shawn and Catherine than it had been with Jane and her lawyer husband, who had a

puny dick, probably because she knew and laughed at it. But it was still hard to see that affection and

to know that it was going to be a while before Chelsea had that level of ease and comfort and love with

another person again.

Catherine turned around just quickly enough to catch the chink in Chelsea’s armour, and her eyes went

wide with sympathy. She patted her arm and lowered her voice. “How are you, really? Is Dave still

being an ass?”

“Calling that douchebag an ass is an insult to both donkeys and human anatomy,” she snapped. Jane

was laughing while she was boiling. “I can’t believe what I saw in that guy! No hard feelings mean,

Catherine, he is your brother, but he is nothing like you. I want to find a time machine and travel back in

time and slap myself in the face the second I said yes to a date with him, and then slap him, and then

slap him again, and then maybe push him in front of some oncoming traffic!” Her drunk volume had

reached the point where people around them were pricking up their ears, so she took a deep breath

and continued, slightly more quietly: “Or maybe just leave an anonymous tip to his comrade to kick the

hell out of him out of that treasure hunting business. How could he choose them over me?”

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