Page 35 of Billion Dollar Mistake

Why does he keep helping me? I work hard to help my family; do I give off a vibe that I want free things?

He senses my hesitation. “Come eat with me, Nova. Please.”

The beg of his please makes my breath momentarily falter.

I am hungry…

“Okay. Let’s go.”

“Good,” he says, with a confident smile playing on his lips as he grabs my hand. His grip is firm and purposeful. We leave the building together.

New York City’s streets are less crowded now, but the pace is slow. The glow of the streetlights cast a warm hue on the sidewalk where locals and tourists leisurely explore.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“I've got the perfect place,” he replies easily, his response carrying confidence that leaves me rolling my eyes and chuckling.

“Of course you do. Is there anything you can't do?”

He rubs along his jaw, looking out onto the street, before back into my eyes. “There is, but I haven't figured that out yet.” He pauses before continuing in a low and husky voice. “I always get what I want.”

He sure does.

I don't mind because giving up control and power to somebody else is actually refreshing. I feel like I can finally breathe. Not doing or thinking about everything. The silence is bliss. We walk along the sidewalk, the warm lampposts, the luminescent moon and glittering stars sparkling in the sky. “It's so pretty out here,” I mumble to myself.

“It certainly is. There is nowhere else like New York City,” he says.

I agree. Some days I still can't believe that I live here. I’ve never lived anywhere else before, and I wouldn’t now because of my parents. But I couldn’t see myself ever moving permanently. Spending the holidays in another state or country is one thing, but full time living? I couldn’t picture my life anywhere else. New York has the best cuisine, career opportunities and world-class entertainment. I love it here.

We walk another block. I'm tired and getting hungry. I want to sit down and drink some water. The medic gave me a bottle of water, but I feel like I need more.

“Just here.” Jeremy speaks, and his voice makes me alert. However, looking around, I frown. It looks like an average building. No lights on. I'm confused.

“Is this place still open?” I ask.

“Yes. I messaged the chef and had it arranged while you were talking to the worker. Our table should be ready.”

I'm just not used to this kind of treatment from a man. It's normally me. I’m the helper. No one helps me. Yet. He's helping me. My mind is spinning.

I’m a proud woman who can hold her own and I have for a long time now. But Jeremy insists on breaking down that wall. Throwing his money, lifestyle and accessibility at me. He’s buying me things, taking care of me, can I really welcome his help into my life?

We step into the building and head back near a pair of elevators.

I freeze. He stops and looks at me. “You don't want to go in.” It’s not a question. He’s stating it.

I look up at him and dip my chin, ashamed of the wash of terror creeping in. His dark eyes narrow with a worried expression.

“We can take the stairs. There’s just a lot of them,” he offers.

I shake my head slowly. “No, it's fine.”

I don’t feel fine, but I can be brave just like my dad is.

His face hovers just a few inches away from mine. His gaze flicks from my eyes to my lips. I feel the heat of his breath on my skin, the anticipation of a kiss lingering between us. He inches forward, his move deliberate, stopping just short of sealing our lips together. But he doesn’t kiss me.

“I've got you. I promise nothing will happen to you while I'm with you,” he reassures me with words I can feel. That cut deeply into my veins.

I know I can do this.

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