Page 40 of Billion Dollar Mistake

“Surprisingly no.”

That makes my lips part into a wider smile. I love knowing that I’ll be showing him something I love that he hasn’t experienced before.

“You have?”

“Yes,” I reply.

“When?”

“My dad took me. He introduced me to boxing.”

Before he got diagnosed and our lives changed.

“I look forward to it.”

I’m excited for Friday. Not only seeing the weigh-in, but to be able to spend more time with Jeremy. It reminds me of how my mom keeps telling me I need to get out more.

Maybe she was right after all…

The waiter brings more plates of food. Things that I've never seen before. Oysters, antipasto, and soups. There’s so much food. The portions are small but presented beautifully. This is money. Money that I don't have. Will never have. I want more money to be able to buy a house on my own. I’d also like to upgrade my car. I’m grateful that my parents handed it down to me when I was eighteen, but I’m envious of his life, and the freedom money brings.

The waiter comes over and we order our main entrees.

“It’s going to be hard to get home at 11 and go to work tomorrow with very little sleep in me.”

He shrugs, picking up food to eat. “I’m used to it. I live off little sleep.”

“What time do you wake up then?”

“I go to bed around midnight and wake up at 4 a.m. to work out.”

“You're only getting four hours of sleep.”

He shuffles in his chair, picking up his glass and swirling the liquid around. “I work a lot. It’s why my last relationship didn’t work.”

His drive and passion for work is something I admire.

“Did you do this with her?”

His brows knit together. “Dinner?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure. Not as regularly as she'd like.”

“Monthly?”

“If it was monthly, I’d have worked with that. She wanted it twice a week.”

I couldn’t imagine having this type of dinner twice a week. I’d prefer a low-key dinner at home. A cuddle on the sofa. I drop my gaze from the powerful man across from me. His hand runs through his perfectly styled hair. He messes it up slightly. Would I want a dinner like this with him? Sure. I feel special with his eyes and attention all on me. Who wouldn’t. But not all the time.

I lick my lips as I look at him.

“She never cared about my lack of sleep,” he murmurs. “Probably because she got to benefit from the money I earned.” His fingers rubbing against the bottom of the glass.

“I care. That’s so unhealthy.”

He stares blankly at me. He leans back in his chair with a slight twist in his lips and a raised brow. ‘Really?”

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