The Last Eligible Billionaire(47)

Why can’t they be allowed to be normal? And have fuck-ups and scandals and regrets?

Why do they have to look like the epitome of perfection when perfection isn’t freaking possible and the pursuit of perfection only makes them miserable?

I mean, I assume there’s a part of them that’s miserable.

Look at poor Hayes.

It sounded like it cost him his entire bank account to tell me he trusts me. That’s not normal, and it’s not fair, and I hate it.

Marshmallow whimpers and rubs his body against me while we march out of The Egg and to the car waiting on the street. “I’m kidding, Mom,” I say loudly. “Of course we won’t do that.”

Nikolay winces.

I know, I know. I’m not very convincing. I shouldn’t have been convincing when telling my mom I’d be doing wicked, wicked things in public, but my temper is awful.

At least, I feel like it’s awful.

Hyacinth laughs at me every time I tell her I had a temper tantrum. I’m apparently not very good at them.

I should put learn to have better temper tantrums on my bucket list.

“Are you getting married?” Mom asks. “Is this a rebound thing, or is this a potential forever thing?”

Nikolay opens the door to the limo, and I climb in after Marshmallow. “It’s a one-day-at-a-time thing with a guy who stuck up for me when his mother insulted me.”

She sucks in a breath. “His mother? Giovanna Rutherford? You met his mother? And she didn’t like you either? Dear god, Begonia, what did you do to her?”

“I breathed wrong, Mom.”

“Begonia! You can’t go around breathing wrong when you’re dating a billionaire! Especially around his mother! What’s she going to think about the way I raised you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she’ll think you raised me to date normal men, since that would make more sense for where we lived and the social circles we move in?”

The car pulls away from the curb, and I start to ask Nikolay if we can get some alcohol for me too, but then my mom’s talking again.

“Your father had some very exclusive clients at his summer camp a time or two. There was a Norwegian prince one year, and the son of an oil baron another year. We should’ve made sure you spent more time with them to learn rich people manners.”

“Wasn’t that before Hyacinth and I were born?”

“Don’t bother me with details, Begonia. The point is, you have a very rare opportunity, and you need to not waste it.”

“Marshmallow! Oh, no! Silly doggy! How could you spill that strawberry daiquiri all over the inside of this priceless limo! Mom, I have to go. Marshmallow and I are in trouble with the billionaires again.”

My dog stares at me in horror, like he can’t believe I just threw him under the bus, while I hang up on my mother.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” I hug him tight, holding my phone up on the other side of him to change my mother’s ringtone so that I won’t make the mistake of answering without thinking again. “I promise I’ll buy you six new chew toys and a big fluffy bed with my next paycheck. You know she’ll forgive you, but I would’ve never heard the end of it if I told her I was the one who stained the inside of a limo.”

Nikolay stares at me.

I sigh. “She wanted me to stay married to a man I didn’t love because she doesn’t think I can take care of myself. She means well, she just…wants different things for me than I want for myself.”

“What do you want?”

Dammit. That’s not supposed to make me cry. “For someone to love me just for me.”

He nods once. “I hope a penis grows out of your mother’s forehead.”

“She means well,” I insist again.

“If she meant well for you, she’d pay attention to what you want. Not what she wants for you.”

I ponder that on the rest of the drive to the Razzle Dazzle corporate offices, but the minute the complex comes into view, everything else fades out of my mind. “It looks like a little village! Like from one of the movies!”

Nikolay nods. “Mr. Rutherford believes people work best when they feel at home.”

“Mr. Rutherford—Hayes?”

“No, ma’am—his father. Mr. Gregory Rutherford.”

“Why does Hayes hate it? He told me it was dull and boring.”

“What one learns to appreciate depends on what one is surrounded with, ma’am.”

The limo turns a corner, passing an adorable little bookshop and a tea house that both remind me of the streets of shops at Razzle Dazzle Village. All the buildings are three or four stories tall, so I assume the offices are above.

I hope they’re just as quaint on the inside.

We turn another corner, and a stately gray brick building comes into view. “City Hall?” I guess.

Nikolay nods. “And the executive offices.”

“Hayes way undersold this.”

The limo glides to a stop at the steps to the fake City Hall building, and Hayes himself pushes through the glass doors to greet us.

His hair is disheveled, like he’s been running his fingers through it, and his square jaw is tight.

So are his eyes.

When I was little, I used to think Hyacinth and I would take over running the summer camp for Dad one day. But then the divorce happened, he declared bankruptcy, and he died, and the summer camp is no more.