Page 46 of Billion Dollar Mistake

“You’re weird. It should’ve been romantic,” Dalton says.

“We are, but it helped us bond,” I reply, with a smile.

Dalton sits on the edge of my desk. “How?”

“Not only did he organize the date but hearing him cheer and encourage me from the side of the ring was something else. It definitely made our connection deeper.”

Dalton grimaces. “I would have taken a spa day.”

I laugh. “He did organize a massage therapist afterward. The hot stones and oils felt amazing.”

“Now we’re talking,” Poppy says, nodding.

“Boxing relieves so much stress. It’s better than a massage,” I say.

Dalton chuckles. “We’re going to have to agree to disagree.”

“I’ll change your minds one day,” I say as I walk around my desk and we leave the office for our team workshop.

“Good luck with that!” Dalton replies.

Chapter 13

Jeremy

I stand by my office window, staring out at Central Park. The sun’s shining down on kids skateboarding and people hustling about.

I’ve been clutching my coffee cup Kirstie brought me. I finally take a sip when there’s a knock on the door. Lowering my cup, I stand up and walk toward the door.

It must be someone familiar because Kirstie didn’t call or knock.

Leaning back against the window frame, I take another sip of my coffee, welcoming the warm liquid along with the caffeine hit.

My brother Harvey enters.

I push away from the window, wander across my office, and head toward one of the sofas. On the table my laptop is open and papers for my next meeting are laid out. Grabbing the top paper, I ease back into the soft fabric and prop my leg up on my opposite thigh, getting comfortable.

“Harvey,” I say, resting my coffee cup on my thigh. The warm cup heats my leg as I wait for him to sit down on the other sofa.

I’m surprised to see him so early on a Monday morning. He’s usually as deep into work as I am.

“Brother,” he says with a hard expression. “I know it’s early.”

I twist my wrist and read the time. “Yeah. It’s not even nine a.m.”

“I know. It’s an early visit, but I need your help,” he answers, taking a seat on the cream sofa, but instead of relaxing, he’s sitting on the edge of it.

“Do you need a drink?” I ask, casting my eyes across the room to the drink trolley before facing him again.

He shakes his head. “No. I’m good.”

“What could you need my help for?” I ask curiously.

Harvey, who is four years younger than me, and a brilliant guy, is someone I’m proud of. He pushes me business-wise to focus hard. To not give up and never back down. And to not take no for an answer.

I sip my coffee, wondering what could possibly have my brother on edge like this. He's never had to ask for help, especially from me.

“What about coffee? Can I get Kirstie to get you one?” I ask. His knee is bouncing up and down and it’s causing me to tap my coffee cup.

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