Page 164 of The Billionaires

“I’ll admit, it’s great. But I’m not sure I want to even compare it to the game.”

“Right,” I say. “Because it would win.”

She rolls her eyes. “Because it’s like comparing apples and oranges.”

“I don’t get that idiom,” I say. “Apples are better, obviously.”

“That’s the New Yorker in you talking,” she says. “As a native Floridian, I’m contractually obligated to prefer oranges.”

The conversation devolves into another New York versus Florida fight, but this one is less heated than before.

We’re interrupted by Mrs. Campbell, who walks into the room carrying a stack of green squares.

“Ah, the lick mats,” Lilly says. “Colossus will finally be able to savor a meal.”

Curious, I let Lilly spread a little bit of peanut butter on one of the mats and hand it to the puppy as a test.

Interesting. It takes him a couple of minutes to do what usually would take a single heartbeat, and he seems to enjoy it rather than be frustrated, which I had feared.

Once again, Lilly was right.

I might just trust her from now on—when it comes to dog matters, that is. Either way, it’s a rarity for me.

“Can I ask you something private?” Lilly asks, blushing again.

“You can ask,” I surprise myself by saying. “I don’t have to answer.”

She waves her fork dismissively. “Forget it.”

“I don’t think I will be able to at this point,” I say. “Just go ahead and ask me.” And since when does she pretend to have tact?

She looks to the ceiling as if for divine help. “I already regret bringing it up.”

“Bringing what up?” And why does my blood pressure always spike when she’s around me?

“Fine.” She bites her lip. “Does misophonia make it hard for you to date?”

I frown. Maybe it was a mistake to insist. Still, for some reason, I feel compelled to say, “People can date without having to eat together. There are museums. Opera. Golf.” Am I overdoing it on activities people consider rich people clichés?

“You’re right,” she says. “I’m sorry.”

I blow out a breath. “No. I know what you mean. I imagine it would be a problem in a serious relationship, especially after moving in together or something like that. None of mine have been serious so far, and I’ve been able to meet women who are willing to put up with a few eccentricities—especially when they get gifts that involve diamonds.”

She rolls her eyes at that last bit—as I expected she might. There’s definitely a socialist streak in her, or whatever you call people who don’t like the wealthy.

“So…” she says cautiously. “Your current girlfriend has never seen you eat?”

I put my fork down. “My current girlfriend?” What sort of imaginary creature is that?

“Colossus’s original mom,” she says sheepishly. “You know… the woman from the video call.”

“Angela?”

She nods.

I chuckle. “She’s my sister—and it’s The Witcher that I’m a fan of, not Game of Thrones.”

Lilly’s cheeks flush once more, and I fight the odd urge to peck one. “Now that you say it, that makes so much more sense. Why else would you adopt her dog?”