Page 11 of The Billionaire's Wife

FAITH

Ilooked around the front room of the tiny office suite that Tristan had for his business. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but it wasn’t this. There was no big conference room or pool of secretaries out front. No line of offices. Nothing like what was on TV when they showed law offices.

Although, to be fair, those were usually big firms, and Tristan was an office of one.

“How long have you been solo?” I followed Tristan into his office and dropped onto the sofa that lined one wall.

“Almost two years.” He set his bag down on his desk and lowered into a big leather chair. That, at least, was like on TV.

“You like it? I thought your dream was to be partner in a fancy firm. Corner office. All that.” Maybe I didn’t remember as well as I thought I did, but that scenario sure sounded familiar.

“Dreams change.” He closed his eyes and held up a hand as if he realized how gruff his voice had come out. “Sorry. You’re right. That was where I’d been aiming. I was nearly there, too. Then…circumstances changed.”

I tilted my head to the side. “You’re not sick or something, right?”

He scoffed and a hint of a smile flirted with the corners of his lips. “No. You haven’t kept tabs on me at all?”

I shrugged. “A little. Here and there. I’ve been kind of busy lately.”

“Fair enough.” He sighed and tented his fingers. “I’ve got enough money I could stop working. My friends and I played the stock market and won big.”

Something about that was familiar. When it came to money, I kept my ear to the ground. It was always good to know who the players were. “Wait. You’re one of the Billionaires Next Door?”

He winced. “I hate that they named us.”

“Better than having your full name and photos splashed all over everything.” I frowned. “Who are the others? Only two have really hit the news with any kind of big splash.”

“Scott and Austin, yeah. There are actually six of us, not the five that they always hint at.” He shook his head. “Can we talk about this later?”

“Why? Just spill now and then we can move on. You’re a billionaire with your friends—wait. Scott? College Scott?”

He nodded. “The others are from school, too. You just didn’t stick around long enough for them to meet you.”

“Ouch.”

“It’s true.”

“I guess. Any idea how many shots you’re going to need to take before you can let it go? I’d like to prepare myself.” I didn’t even bother to keep the snark out of my voice. “I thought I was doing what was best for both of us, okay? Maybe you expected me to discuss every little thing with you because we were married, but we both know that marriage was you playing rescuer.”

“Is.”

“Huh?”

“Is. The marriage is. It’s not as if it’s over.”

I blinked and tried to process his words. “On paper, I guess. We can probably fix that, too. Right?”

His face paled. It had to be a trick of the light though, right? Sure, I might have worked up some fantasies involving convincing Tristan to disappear with me, but I knew that was what they were. Tristan wasn’t the kind of guy who tiptoed over the line of illegal. Disappearing with not-quite-legal-IDs definitely was a step or two beyond that line.

Even with my decision to try to fix this the right way, I was keeping my options open. The Ortegas had a long reach, and I wasn’t convinced that anything we did was going to truly keep me safe from them.

“Sure. Of course. You want to do that first?” His voice was flat.

I shook my head. “I’m in no rush. But you’ve got to have someone waiting in the wings.”

“There’s never been anyone but you.”

I opened my mouth to speak but couldn’t figure out what words I was supposed to use. He couldn’t mean it the way it sounded, could he? Why would he? Sure, we’d been friends in high school. Of a sort.

---