Page 48 of Billion Dollar Mistake

“That’s the problem,” he grumbles.

He drains his glass and tips it toward me. “Need a drink?”

I hold up my coffee cup. “I’m okay with just coffee this morning, thanks.” I chuckle. “Help yourself. Drink as much as you want.”

He doesn’t bother waiting. He’s up and on the move, already adding more ice and a splash of whiskey.

He takes a swig before he rejoins me.

“This is the fucked-up part.” He exhales audibly. “I want to give her more time and I don't even know why.”

I grin wider. I get what he’s saying, I really do. It’s how I feel about Nova.

“There's just something about the way she wants to fight for her parents that I find attractive.”

“Our family is close. And you see yourself in her. We would do anything for our family.”

“Exactly,” he counters. “And she’s doing the same thing in the only way she knows how.”

“So her standing up for her parents’ legacy is a trigger,” I reply. “Were they in this situation before the dad died?”

“They were,” he replies, taking a sip before looking solemnly at the floor.

“That’s fucked. Even I feel sorry for her,” I admit.

“Yeah, see my problem,” he says, lifting his chin back up to face me.

“If she's making you feel something in that cold heart, I say give her the time.”

His knee finally stops bouncing. “But what if nothing changes?”

I suck in a breath. “Be kind. But take the business if her time’s up.”

“Or I could pay the debt for her…” He trails off looking at the empty glass.

“Fuck, Harvey. No,” I say. Here I was thinking I was the only one with woman issues. I was thinking of buying Nova a car and Harvey here wants to buy this woman a company.

“You can’t be that stupid. You don't know this woman,” I add.

He sighs. “I know. I’m being ridiculous. I'll just have to be firm and not think about her and do my job.”

Hearing him talk about a woman is strange. He's always been the outgoing, playful brother, especially when it comes to relationships. But I've always wondered whether he was just protecting himself. To hear that a woman is affecting him in this way, it makes me naturally curious.

“What does she look like?” I ask.

He rises to take the glass to the trolley, setting it down.

“I don't know,” he says, taking his seat again.

I give him a look that says I'm not buying this shit.

“Fine,” he says, annoyed.

She’s hot.

I can guarantee that.

“She’s beautiful and has this unique heart-shaped face,” he explains it as if she’s here in this room and he’s picturing her. “Even though she's determined, there’s this softness about her.”

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