The Billionaire Swap novel · Chapter 3 of 16

Chapter 3: Delivery Boy

At the Hatchers' family dinner Stuart is seated with the staff and tipped twenty dollars, and Victor offers him a job as doorman of his own tower.

I went back to bed without my water.

I lay there and looked at the ceiling for a while.

My husband was not as finished as he looked.

That was interesting.

It was also his business.

If he wanted to tell me, he would.

In the morning he was already dressed in a red QuickDrop jacket, making toast.

He put a plate in front of me and watched my face.

"Sleep okay?"

"Great," I said. "Your bed's better than mine was."

He looked relieved.

I didn't ask about the phone call.

I didn't ask about the auction.

I ate my toast and went to work.

We fell into a rhythm fast.

He left at seven with his van keys.

I took the Green Line to Lakeshore Mutual and filed claims until five.

He came home after dark smelling like cardboard and rain.

I cooked on the nights he was late.

He cooked on the nights I was.

After dinner he opened an old laptop at the little table and typed until midnight.

I read on the sofa beside him.

Sometimes I fell asleep there, and woke up in the bed with the blanket pulled up to my chin.

He never said a word about carrying me.

Three weeks in, Mom called.

"Meredith's hosting her first family dinner at the Hatcher house on Saturday. You're both coming."

"Okay."

"Wear something decent. And Abigail."

She lowered her voice.

"Make sure your husband doesn't embarrass us. The Hatchers are very particular."

I told Stuart that night.

He was quiet for a second.

"I have a shift until six."

"Then come after."

"I'll be in the jacket."

"It's a nice jacket," I said. "It's very red."

He laughed, but his eyes stayed on the laptop.

The Hatcher house was on the lake in Winnetka.

It had a gate, a fountain, and a man whose only job was opening the front door.

I got there first, on the train, in my one blue dress.

Meredith met me in the hall in cream silk, with Grandma's bangle on her wrist.

She kissed the air next to my cheek.

"Where's the delivery boy?"

"Working."

"Oh, that's so sad," she said, and smiled.

Mom and Dad were already in the dining room, on either side of Victor Hatcher.

He was a heavy man with silver hair combed straight back and an unlit cigar in his fingers.

Mom was laughing at everything he said.

Toby was on his phone.

Nobody had saved me a seat, so I took the one at the very end, by the kitchen door.

At six forty, the doorbell rang.

The butler came in with a face like he'd smelled milk.

"A delivery person, sir. He says he's family."

Stuart stepped in behind him.

His red jacket was damp at the shoulders.

He had a QuickDrop bag over one arm, because he'd come straight from his last stop.

The whole table went quiet.

Trey leaned back in his chair and whistled.

"Look at that. Somebody ordered Drummond."

Meredith laughed so hard she had to hold her napkin to her mouth.

Mom looked at me like it was my fault.

Victor didn't laugh at all.

He pointed his cigar at the kitchen door.

"There's a seat for you with the staff, son. They eat at seven. You'll feel more at home."

Stuart looked at the long table.

There was no chair for him, anyway.

"Of course," he said.

I stood up.

"Then I'll eat with the staff too."

"Sit down, Abigail," Mom hissed.

"I'm fine either way," I said. "The kitchen smells better."

Stuart touched my shoulder once, lightly.

"Stay. It's your family."

He went through the swinging door.

I sat back down, because he asked me to.

Dinner went on for an hour.

Lobster, then lamb, then a cake with Meredith's initials on it in gold.

Trey told a story about losing forty thousand dollars at a casino in Macau like it was a joke about a parking ticket.

Everyone laughed except me.

Over dessert, Trey pushed back his chair.

"Hey, Drummond. Come out here a sec."

Stuart came to the kitchen door.

Trey pulled a twenty out of his wallet and held it up between two fingers.

"For the lamb. Somebody told me it was delivered."

Meredith giggled.

Stuart didn't take it.

Trey tucked it into the chest pocket of the red jacket anyway.

Then Victor tapped his glass with a spoon.

"A little news, since we're all family."

He smiled down the table at my husband.

"In September I'll own Drummond Group. The tower gets my name on it by Christmas."

Mom clapped. Dad clapped. Meredith clapped the loudest.

Victor raised his glass to Stuart.

"And I'll need a doorman who knows the building. The job's yours, son. Say yes, and I'll even let you keep the jacket."

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