Page 20 of Cinderella's Fling with the Off-Limits Billionaire

“Perhaps it’s both.”

She sipped her drink.

“Why haven’t you travelled?”

Maybe if this was a date, if he was a normal guy, she might try to couch things in a certain way to maximise the likelihood of him falling for her. But this wasn’t a date, and there was no future for them, which was actually really liberating.

“We had no money, growing up. Mom and dad worked good, honest jobs, worked hard too. They bought their own home, over in Brooklyn, but they had a huge mortgage and times were tough. Way too tough to travel.”

“But you’re now an adult woman, and you have a job…”

“Yeah, but life is expensive. Not that I’d expect you to know that, Moneybags,” she teased, and was gratified to see another grin flicker on his lips.

“I have money, but I do understand the realities of life.”

“Oh, yeah? So you know that a night in one of your fancy suites is more than some people pay for a month’s rent? And that there’s probably only like a thousand people on this whole entire planet that could just buy a Manhattan apartment like this on a whim?”

“Do you resent that?”

“I resent the disparity,” she said, honestly. “Yeah. I think the way the world works really sucks sometimes.”

“It does. Which is why we’ve had a long-standing relationship with several key charities. We have a foundation that is active in America, in fact.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen that on the hotel information,” she admitted. “I think it’s good that your family gives back in some way.”

“I think you and I are in agreement that it’s a moral obligation.”

“Still, you probably have a heap of wealthy friends who are happy to just pour everything they have into more private jets and yachts and fancy homes.”

“That’s what taxation is for. Not everyone has a social conscience.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I’m more than aware of that.”

He waited for her to continue and again, because this wasn’t anything like a date, she said what she was thinking. “I have come up against more than enough A-listers who don’t have a social conscience.” She shuddered.

“In the hotel?”

“Well, definitely not in the course of my normal life,” she said with another smile.

He returned it; her stomach knotted. She had two more mouthfuls of food.

“Are they rude to you?”

Was that sympathy in his voice? She hoped not. She didn’t want him to pity her. But she wasn’t going to lie to him.

“Sometimes I think they’re just rude in general. Not all of them but a lot. So, the fact I’m in their orbit, in a service role, yeah, they can be rude to me.”

He shook his head with disapproval. “I hate that.”

“It’s fine. Some people just think they’re better than others.”

“They’re not.”

“I know that. Which is why it doesn’t really bother me. If anything, I laugh about it.” Then, remembering he was essentially her boss—or her boss’s boss’s boss’s boss, at least—she quickly clarified. “Not ever around the guests, of course. Just later, when I’m alone.”

“I don’t doubt your professionalism, Skye. I’ve come up against it myself, remember?”

She breathed out, then stood. She’d finished her dinner, and her champagne, and now had to get home. She looked around a little regretfully.

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