Page 11 of The Billionaire's Bad News Baby

“Why?”

“They got a bit scrunched up, in the rain.”

Marc tsked on the other end, and Elio felt like he was four years old again, awed by all the lawyers and businessmen as he followed his dad around at the office. Well, he was the CEO now. He needed to get a grip. As much as Elio hated to admit it, Marc was right. He needed to grow up.

“Do yourself a favor,” Marc said with a sigh, sounding like he was settling back into bed. “Go and be nice to this no-named woman. The last thing you need is her going back and telling this idiot’s lawyer what a bonehead you’ve been. The prosecution is going to use every scrap and crumb they can against you. That’s not going to look good for your case now, is it?

“Image is everything,” Elio muttered, one of his dad’s old catchphrases.

“Precisely. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to sleep.” With that, he hung up, and Elio was alone in his study, the rain and wind getting worse by the second, compelling him to close the curtains as if that would do anything to stop any damage, like a kid pulling the bed covers over their head.

Elio grabbed the thickest book he could find off the shelves, some old leather-bound thing, and set it on top of the papers to flatten them out. He could at least try and get them a little less wrinkled before he sent a copy through to New York. It definitely wasn’t to delay going to the guest wing and talking to the American woman. Definitely not. But still, Elio found himself standing in the study, arms folded staring into space for a few extra minutes as if putting off a death sentence, before slapping himself internally for being so ridiculous and stalking to the other end of the house.

What was wrong with him? He’d always been antisocial, sure. But he wasn’t going to be intimidated by someone, certainly not in his own house. Elio knocked on the guest wing door, waiting to hear footsteps from the other side but unable to hear anything over the raging storm.

The door swung open a little and the woman peered out, a can of soda in hand, and once again Elio was captivated and distracted by her different-colored eyes. It didn’t help the awkward silence they’d fallen head first into, with him just staring at her like an idiot. It stretched on enough that the woman actually cleared her throat.

“Thanks for the soda?” she said, her words coming out like a question. She even raised it a little, like a bizarre sort of toast to the awkwardness of this entire situation. Elio pulled himself together. He’d spent enough time looking like an idiot for one day. He needed some control back because right now, he felt completely out to sea without a life vest, a paddle or even a hunk of wood to float on.

“I never actually caught your name?” he said, sticking to speaking in English.

The woman swung the door open wider and held out her hand, the one not holding a drink. “Kayla,” she said.

Elio stared at her hand. Why was she being so nice? It was weird.

“I’m not poisonous,” she said, fighting off a grin, her hand still outstretched.

Elio shook it just to spite her.

“And….” Kayla said, dragging the word out.

“And what?”

“What’s your name?”

“You know my name. You served me papers.”

She started grinning, taking a sip of her drink. What was so funny? Elio was doing all this to get a handle on things, but it was failing miserably.

“It’s just usually what people do,” Kayla said with a shrug. “Mr. Morelli.”

“You can call me Elio,” he said, hating how much it sounded like pouting.

“All right.”

More awkward silence bloomed, like some sort of poisonous flower, sucking the oxygen out of the room. But Kayla seemed completely unperturbed by it. In fact, she looked like she thought this whole situation was incredibly funny.

“I’ll be making dinner soon,” Elio said in his most commanding tone, smoothing back his hair, a habit he had when he was beyond stressed. “Why don’t you join me?”

“I thought someone like you would have people to cook for you?” she said bluntly. It wasn’t even an answer to his question.

“Someone like me?”

“Someone rich enough to own an island.”

“I sent Gianna home before the storm hit.”

Kayla nodded, completely cryptic, and got Elio frustrated all over again.

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