Page 181 of Trapped with the Billionaire

“You’re welcome, Nickels.”

She stood and turned for the door.

My heart stopped.

I’d made a mistake. I should have waited until after our talk to sign the papers.

No. I’d done the right thing, the honorable thing. I’d been honest. I’d done this for her, so she could keep the house that meant everything to her. Her happiness had been my goal. It had always been foremost in my thoughts.

Now I knew I’d truly lost her. She’d refused to say whether she felt the same way about me as I did her. But she was answering with her departure.

No, she didn’t love me.

She carried my heart with her as she walked to the door—a heart in a thousand pieces.

Maria rushed over to unlock it for her.

Maybe Nicole had never been my girl.

Chapter 47

Nicole

Maria unlockedthe glass door and opened it for me.

The bright sunlight hit me, and with it came the realization that Josh had tricked me after all.

If I left, my answer to his off-the-wall question would have been a lie. A fair and honorable person wouldn’t take from him and not offer something back, or even ask what he wanted. Leaving now would brand me as despicable. My parents raised me better than that. Rossis were better than that.

I might regret it, but I had to be the better person here. I turned and marched back to his table. I heard the owner re-lock the door behind me.

“What do you want?”

Relief flooded his face as he took a breath. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit.” I patted my purse. “What do you want for this?”

He gestured to the chair I’d vacated. “I invited you to an extended lunch. I thought we might have an opportunity to talk.”

“And what does extended entail?”

He waved Maria over. “I thought we’d start with this.”

A moment later, Maria and Yolanda returned.

They set out cloth napkins, real silverware instead of the plastic they used here, and a fine ceramic plate for each of us with a familiar multilayered dessert topped with cocoa powder.

“Tiramisu? Really?” I sat in the chair I’d vacated.

“Only the best for you. This is from Cardinelli’s. Ever been there?”

“I’ve heard of it, but no, never been.”

“I’ll take you some time.”

I didn’t start the argument that would ensue if I pointed out this was our last meal together. Pointing at the plate, I asked, “Is this what extended means?”

“Part of it.”

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