Page 24 of The Billionaires

“That reminds me,” Pearl says. “Where is Atonic’s litterbox?”

I tell her and stomp to the shower.

As the limo drives through Malibu, I can’t help but reflect on how annoyingly perfect the dress, the shoes, and especially the undies feel.

It’s like those designers custom-made them for me.

Grr. What if this ruins TJMaxx clothes for me? Relatedly, what if these limo rides ruin Uber for me? Or?—

We stop, and Elijah does that trick where he opens the door for me impossibly quickly.

“Thanks.” I step out and take in the glorious view of the ocean. “Is that the place?” I gesture at a beachfront restaurant that’s so fancy and expensive that the closest people like me can get to it is reading about it in The Michelin Guide. Which I have.

“Indeed,” Elijah says. “Mr. Warren is already inside.”

Okay. Here goes. I click-clack over there in my new pumps, my blood pressure rising as I picture myself facing off with Lucius again.

“Ms. Lazko,” says the hostess. “Please follow me.”

Should I even bother getting surprised that she knows who I am?

She leads me through a completely empty restaurant until we reach the table with the best view.

Lucius is waiting there, a glass of wine in his hand. For some bizarre reason, my breath catches, and I feel warm in all the wrong places.

Suppressing my wayward libido, I tear my eyes away from how his suit jacket hugs his broad shoulders and get straight to the point. “You bought me a bra and panties?”

Lucius looks me over from head to toe, his expression unreadable, while the hostess sounds like she’s choking on her saliva as she says, “I’ll tell the chef to start the omakase.”

“Do so,” Lucius says to her with a dismissive wave of his hand before standing up to pull out a chair, presumably for me.

I plant my butt in said chair. “Don’t dodge my question.”

“I’m not.” He returns to his seat. “The answer is obviously yes.”

By saguaro’s roots, he’s set a new record for bringing out my violent urges. “You don’t deny being completely inappropriate?”

“Is this how you always react to gifts? You must be a joy on your birthday.”

“There are appropriate gifts, and there are inappropriate gifts,” I grit out.

He lifts a thick eyebrow. “So… you’re not wearing the bra and panties I bought you?”

“None of your business.”

His pupils dilate slightly. “Are you wearing any underwear?”

“That’s even less of your business!”

He cocks his head. “I claim you are wearing my gift. Want to deny it?”

Grr. A tingly sensation circumnavigates from the back of my neck all the way across my face. “If I am wearing anything, it would be because Elijah played the cat allergy card.”

His expression darkens. “That reminds me… Who carries their friend’s cat to an interview? Or anywhere?”

When did he hear about Pearl? Was this also part of the info his security team dug up? Elijah doesn’t seem like the text-and-drive type.

I massage my suddenly stiff neck. “Don’t try to make this about me. Apart from the undies, you also have to answer for the invasion of my privacy.”

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