Page 283 of The Billionaires

To prove that last point, on the way back, the weather is still the main topic.

To test the waters, I say, “The forecast is particularly nice for tomorrow. Would you like to have another picnic?”

She purses her lips. “Big day at the library. I doubt I’ll be able to get away.”

Translation: she’s definitely still mad at me. Judging by her reaction the last time, picnics are her catnip.

“Fair enough,” I say. Before we can get back to discussing wind speeds, humidity, or the UV index, I add, “I’ve settled on a date for the wedding.” In truth, I haven’t heard from my people yet, but I want to seal the deal before Jane decides she is so upset about the GD refusal that she wants to back out.

“Oh,” Jane says without any enthusiasm. “When is the big day?”

“The first Saturday of next month,” I say, figuring that’s the soonest the event organizer can put a wedding together. “Is that going to be enough time for you to invite whoever you want to be at the ceremony?”

She frowns. “Do I have to invite anyone?”

“I guess not, but this is supposed to look like a real wedding.”

She sighs. “You’re right. Besides, Grandma would not forgive me if she didn’t get an invite.”

“We have a planner,” I say. “She’ll take care of things like invites. Just email me the names and addresses of your peeps.”

Jane pulls up her phone, compiles a list, and sends it to me. I pass it on to the planner and try to strike up a real conversation with Jane, only to end up talking about the weather again.

When Jane comes home that night, she changes into yoga pants and a sports bra that drive me insane, so I’m almost glad when she tells me she doesn’t want to watch TV together. It would have been exquisite torture if she’d said yes.

Still, her refusal proves beyond a shadow of doubt that she’s upset with me—and only joined me last night because we still had Bridgerton season two to finish. Now that that’s over, she’s too pissed at me to watch anything else.

Hmm. I wonder how much it would cost to pay Netflix to speed up the shooting of the next season. Jane wouldn’t be able to resist that…

I look it up. They paid seven million per episode. I could afford that. Then again…

A germline of an idea springs to life.

What if I made my own show, one a lot like Bridgerton? Better yet, why not make it a movie? There aren’t a lot of very good historical romance films on the market. If it does well, it could always be spun off into a show. More importantly, Jane wouldn’t be able to resist talking about it with me.

Excited, I go to my studio and start my research.

By the following day, my relationship with Jane still hasn’t improved. She doesn’t want to spend time with me, though she is wearing another Victorian outfit that drives me insane.

Speaking of Victorian things, since my Bridgerton knock-off movie is in its infant stage, I don’t mention it to her just yet. I have a lot more work to do before it’s anything worth discussing. In fact, now that I’ve started, a part of me wants to keep it a secret, and just show her the finished product when I’m done. Either way, the movie is what I focus on over the next week, given that Jane is determined to avoid me.

She’s clearly still upset with me. However, we do have snippets of conversation here and there, and when Piper comes over, Jane does spend time with us—which makes me regret my GD refusal all the more.

She wasn’t bragging when she said she’s good with babies.

“You sweet little thing,” she coos, rocking Piper back and forth as my daughter grabs her hair with her chubby little fist. “Let’s burp you and make you feel better, why don’t we?”

And as I watch in amazement, my fussy baby smiles at her angelically and lets out a very ladylike burp, somehow keeping down all of her milk in the process.

Seriously, is Jane a baby whisperer or what?

Piper either refuses to burp with me properly, or I get thrown up on half the time.

“You need to teach me how to do that,” I say as Jane hands my daughter—fed, burped, and changed—back to me. “There’s a trick to this, right?”

She grins. “Yes, and it’s having a much younger sister and a mom who insists you babysit. Here, let me show you.”

She demonstrates her technique on a teddy bear, and I imprint it into my memory—as I do everything Jane-related these days. I simply can’t get her off my mind, and not just because by the week before the wedding, Yoda is ready to join the dark side of the Force thanks to her outfits, which are ridiculously sexy even when they’re not Victorian.

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