Page 33 of The Billionaires

Interesting. “Jealous?” I ask, cocking my head.

“Yeah, right. I just don’t want the gossip mags making me look like a fool.”

“I’ll abstain if you do.” As the words leave my lips, I realize I like this idea a lot. So much so I’ll have to berate my lawyer for not suggesting it.

“Deal,” she says. “Want to write that into the contract?”

I get my pen out and write an addendum by hand. Juno doesn’t realize this, but I loathe such manual labor. Typing is way more efficient. However, this is important enough to lock it down here and now.

I wait until she initials the page, and then I surprise myself by genuinely wanting to know something I never thought I would.

“What about your relationships?”

CHAPTER 14

JUNO

I push the papers and the pen back to him with a jerky motion—a compromise, considering I feel like tossing them at his face. “I had one very long relationship. It ended eleven months ago.”

I’m surprised this info wasn’t discovered in his snooping. Unless it was, but he’s forgotten already. It’s not like he cares one iota about my life.

“Why did it end?” he asks, and manages to sound like he gives a shit.

“It just ran its course,” I say.

No way am I rehashing the deets with someone I’ve just met, especially since he might already have everything in his dossier. Then again, how would Lucius’s security team know that Jason called me stupid as he broke up with me? At most, they might’ve sussed out that I was with Jason all through his med school and residency, supporting his ambitions for years—and that in a horrible cliché, he broke up with me as soon as he became a full-fledged doctor.

Lucius is regarding me skeptically. “I’m not an expert, but I don’t believe those things just run their course, for no reason.”

“You want a reason?” To calm myself, I finish my dessert, even though it tastes like sawdust now. “Men are assholes, and our relationship turned out to be a fartlek-ing fartlek.”

Lucius blinks, then extends his hand, as if to put his palm over mine. Only at the last second, he jerks it away. Then again, maybe I’ve imagined the whole thing. Or misunderstood. Maybe he was going to choke me to put me out of my misery.

“Anyway.” I pointedly put down the little golden spoon. “Was this the last course?”

He also puts his spoon down. “That’s up to us.”

I rub my belly. “Donezo. What’s next for our fartlek?”

“You’ll accompany me to a boring fundraiser.”

I snort. “Wow. You're selling that so well.”

“I’m paying you enough to go even if you don’t like it.” He pockets his precious papers. “And who knows? You might end up having a good time, like the other meatsacks.”

Meatsacks? Do I even want to know? Nah. Instead, I ask, “When is it?”

“Tomorrow.”

“What’s the dress code?” I look down frantically to make sure I didn’t stain my outfit.

He makes a dismissive gesture. “The clothes will be provided.”

Money and new clothes? I could get used to this. “Sounds like we’re going to a fundraiser.”

He pulls out a stack of hundreds and tosses a few on the table. “Let me take you home.”

I gape at the money. “I thought this was your restaurant. Why do you need to pay?”

---