Page 54 of The Billionaires' Prize

I’m nomming my way through a bowl of the new chocolate cereal Kingston brought me when my phone rings. LaShonda has her own ringtone. During our senior year, she changed it to the opening chords from “Eye of the Tiger.”

I put her on speakerphone so I can finish my breakfast. “Good morning.”

“So what happened? Am I interrupting anything?”

I swear I can hear her eyebrows wiggle suggestively.

“No hello?” I tease. She’s always been a cut-to-the-chase sort of person, and I know she’s totally rolling her eyes from three states away.

“Fine,” I say. We have lots of catching up to do. Taking a deep breath, I try to remember the last time I spoke to her. Yesterday? It feels like a lifetime ago. “He said he didn’t leave because he doesn’t want me. He left because he did.”

Even repeating those words gets my blood racing. We’ve settled some things, but there’s still a bruise there, lurking beneath the skin of the young woman who wanted to be desired. Claimed.

Shon squeals. “Girl!”

I hum, unsure what to say or add because I don’t want to get into the shower sex. Or the scene from last night. I mean, I’ll probably tell her. Eventually. We’re terrible at keeping secrets from each other. But right now, it all feels new and exciting and special. Almost like a wish. Something you don’t want to say out loud, or it won’t come true.

“He sent the charity a million dollars,” I admit between bites.

And that makes me feel a certain way. Sorta happy, a little numb. He never wanted his inheritance. His charitable giving is incredible, but still. It feels. . . odd.

“So he can go on a date with you,” Shon fills in, her voice rising with each word.

I glance toward the foyer, wondering how long he’ll be at the gym.

“He could have dated me years ago.” I try not to feel so heartbroken over time wasted. Didn’t I just tell Gabe the best things are worth waiting for?

I believe that. As hard as it is to hear and as hard as it is to believe in. But still, there’s a part of me growling with frustration over wasted days. Wastedyears.

“What did you say?” she asks.

I tell her how we got interrupted by the woman taking photos and then how he kind of got an eye full before we came back to the city.

“You are living the dream!”

“Trust me, this feels more like a nightmare some moments.” Being chased by photographers. Sleeping on the floor. Finding out my family kept important details from me. It’s been a lot.

Shon’s laugh booms through my speaker. “Boo hoo. I’m Katherine Montgomery, and I have to choose between three gorgeous billionaires.”

“Hmph. I wish you were here so I could throw a pillow at you.” Standing, I grab my empty bowl and my phone.

“Send the jet, honey.”

We laugh because it’s a running joke between us.

“Just let me know when you’re free. Speaking of. . . are you seeing anyone?”

After dropping my dirty dishes in the dishwasher, I head for my closet. It’s time to put on some battle armor. I’m sure my assistant has a stack of messages waiting for me. And no matter how much I enjoyed myself this weekend, I won’t let it interfere with my work.

“No changing the subject.”

“I’m tired of talking about men. Before Gabe and Alex, it was Tyler and my other dating misadventures.” Not that I’ve dated a lot. But enough to know that the men of Manhattan only want me for my name and connections.

Which is why Alex and Gabe are so refreshing. They’re both self-made men with no need for my pocketbook. Or my inheritance.

“But Kingston’s always been around,” she muses, as if I need the reminder.

“My one bright spot.” I reach for my favorite suit—a heathered gray with a pale pink detail. Putting my phone on the island, I set about dressing.

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