The Last Eligible Billionaire(92)

“What difference does it make? I deserve love. I do. I deserve to be loved back, to not be the one doing all the loving. I don’t want to be the woman that a man only appreciates once she’s gone.”

“Why do you love my son?”

“Because he pays attention and he believes in me.” It’s such an easy answer. “We were fake. He didn’t have to join me for breakfast when we were the only two people in the house. He didn’t have to skip that dinner cruise with you to join me for an awkward picnic on the beach. He didn’t have to make me tea. He didn’t have to tolerate my dog. With his allergies. He didn’t have to set my phone up on wifi so that I could talk to my sister. He didn’t have to fly her in to see me. He didn’t have to set up an art studio in his house so that I could make terrible pottery. But he listened. He paid attention. He didn’t mock me. He looked at me like I was beautiful, flaws and all. And it wasn’t about the money. It was about the thought. He’s the first man I’ve known in my adult life who thought. And who cared enough to act on the thought. And I want—I want him to feel as much love as he made me feel with the simplest little things that no one else has ever done for me before. I want him to know how very much he deserves to be loved and adored.”

I swipe at my nose with my shirtsleeve, but I don’t try to stop the tears.

I’m not stoic. I’m not upper-crust. I’m not fancy.

I’m me, and I’m a mess, and I’m okay with this.

Giovanna pulls me in for a hug. “No matter what happens between you and Hayes, I hope you know you can call me for anything, anytime. And that’s not an offer I’ve made to any of his other former girlfriends. Ever.”

“We were pretend.”

“No, Begonia. My sweet child. You most definitely were not pretend.”





36





Hayes



If time heals all wounds, I would very much like time to speed the hell up and do its job.

“You have two choices, Romeo,” Keisha says to me as she lounges on the couch in my office. “You can remove your foot from your mouth, go apologize, and beg her to take you back, or you can finish the job and retire with all of your investments and go live as a hermit on top of a mountain in the Andes.”

“Satellite phones still work in the Andes,” Jonas says. He’s lounging on my floor. On my floor. Just lying there on his back like it’s a damn bed, scrolling his phone. I hope it lands on his perfect nose and he has to have stitches. “But here’s some good news—some dude named Andreas who’s been trading artwork with non-fungible tokens just became the world’s newest billionaire. Congrats, Hayes. You’re off the hook.”

“He’s engaged,” Keisha says. “To a dude.”

“Oh. Ah. Yeah, I see that now. Correction. Sorry, Hayes, you’re still the world’s most eligible male billionaire.”

“But Hayes can’t date anyone for like another six days without getting called a playboy, and god knows your family won’t tolerate that. So he has almost another week before he’s truly in danger.”

“They’re your family too.”

“Only on good days. Hey, what do you think of this statue? I’m thinking Millie needs it for her birthday.” She flips her phone around and flashes us.

“Are those breasts?” Jonas asks.

“It’s like what would happen if you mashed breasts with ass and added three vaginas.”

“Why’s it mint green?”

“Would you two shut up and go away?” I snap. “Some of us have actual work to do.”

“I’m on the clock,” Jonas says. “Next role is a broken-hearted miser hiding from the world in a cabin in the woods. This is character study. I’m absorbing your aura.”

“I’m on the clock too,” Keisha says. “Your dad’s afraid you’ll bury your grief in one of your executive assistants, and yes, that’s a euphemism, and apparently everyone likes them too much for us to have another situation like the one with Thomas.”

I hit the buzzer to call Winnie.

“Yes, Mr. Rutherford?” her tinny voice answers.

“Throw these yahoos out of my office and change the locks.”

“They’re worried about you, Mr. Rutherford. Although their concerns that either of us would cross professional lines with you are unfounded. Also, tell Keisha that Millie would hate that statue.”

“Are you trying to convince me to quit?”

“My brother is a professor of computational physics at this little college in Vermont, and he says he could use a mathematician on his team.”

“Once again, are you trying to convince me to quit?”

“No, merely making random conversation since there’s not much that makes you happy these days. Excuse me, Mr. Rutherford, but if there’s nothing else I can do for you immediately, I have another stack of work from you that needs attention.”

Jonas is smothering a grin.

Keisha’s flipped herself upside down so that she’s dangling off my couch with her feet on my wall. “I could be a CFO. This seems so easy.”

I shove up from my seat. “I’m going for a walk.”

Jonas also leaps to his feet. “Need a bodyguard? I need to prep for one of those roles too. But hold two seconds. Head rush. Got up too fast.”