Page 216 of The Billionaires

He gazes at mine.

Some otherworldly force seems to pull us toward each other. I can see the sensual curves of his lips, so roguish yet so strangely appealing, the silver striations in his eyes, the strong, aquiline line of his nose… Our lips are but a hair’s width apart when there’s a loud bark inside the boutique, followed by the sound of something big clattering to the floor.

“Fuck.” Adrian straightens abruptly. “I shouldn’t have left Leo in there alone.”

My face burns and my heart pounds like the drums at Waterloo as I take a shaky step back, then turn and stumble into the car. With an unsteady hand, I slam the door behind me and watch as Adrian rushes to the store to deal with the aftermath of whatever Leo’s done.

The car pulls away as I drag in air, willing my frantic pulse to slow.

Did I imagine it, or did we almost kiss?

If we did, was it him kissing me or I him? Does it matter?

Miss Miller thinks it matters very much—as it is the difference between a proper lady and a woman of ill repute.

I lean back against the car seat and close my eyes.

I think I made a horrible mistake agreeing to this dinner.

CHAPTER 4

ADRIAN

Since Leo has created a mess, I buy some more clothes in Jane’s size to pacify the saleswomen. I’m sure they’ll come in handy later.

After that, I take Leo home, making dinner reservations and arranging a car for Jane as we go.

For lunch, we both eat the leftovers from my cooking experiments the other day—smoked melon with eel for me, chicken gizzards in peanut sauce for him. As I eat, I debate telling Bob about Jane but decide it might be premature. I need to find out more about her, which I will do at our upcoming dinner. Then again, since I almost kissed her, she might well flake on the dinner.

How stupid was that of me? Just as I’ve met someone who may be the perfect candidate to help me win custody of Piper, my Yoda may have ruined it within minutes.

The food sours in my stomach.

No, I can’t think about that now. Must keep busy.

Leaving the dishes for my housekeeper, I head into my studio to compose some music. I come up with a few bass guitar riffs—something that could become a song for the metal band that I’m in. Then I write a jingle for a video I’ve created—one that might become an ad for one of the million companies I’ve inherited.

My mind is still wandering, still trying to get back to the Jane topic, so I get behind my computer to work on the children’s story that I hope to read to Piper when she’s old enough. For now, I’m just writing the rhymes because I’m still pondering how to best draw the illustrations.

Dammit. Jane is still sneaking into my thoughts.

I pick up a book on poker strategy. Nope. I go online and play a game of chess with a guy who claims to be a grandmaster, but since I beat him within the first hour, I’m skeptical that he’s as highly ranked as he claims.

Also, my mind keeps returning to the dinner.

The good news is, there’s no text from her flaking out.

Maybe I didn’t freak her out too much.

Back to work. I review some investments, answer some emails, and interview a CEO candidate for one of my foundations. Then I work on a few more tunes and write a couple more rhymes before calling it quits.

As I often do at the end of what passes for my work day, I search inside myself to figure out what activity I felt the most affinity for and, as usual, come up blank.

True, the children’s book is a labor of love, but that’s powered by my feelings for my baby girl. Without them, I’m not sure writing and illustrating would be my calling.

I sigh. Even though my father isn’t around to criticize me anymore, I can easily picture his scowl and his biting words. “A jack of all trades but master of none” was the nicest version of his usual chastisement, with words like “unfocused” and “rudderless” not far behind.

And hey, he was right. I’m twenty-seven and still don’t know what I want to do with my life.

---