Page 27 of Coffee Break with the Billionaire

We step out of the trees a moment later.

I found this spot years ago, a clearing in the woods where the rocks hang over the shoreline, the waves crashing a few feet below. One huge rock is forming a table where I can set up my telescope.

“Wow,” Fenella breathes. My eyes have adjusted to the dimness so I can take in her wide eyes. “It’s like I’m at the edge of the world.”

“Technically, you’re at the edge of Laandia,” Wyatt says. “This might be the most eastern point of the country. Careful, don’t go too close to the edge.” We both reach for her as she takes a step.

“I keep meaning to build some sort of barrier there,” I add, letting my hand slide off the coat sleeve.

“The ocean isrightthere,” she says with delight. “I could jump in.”

“There’s rocks. So, maybe not.”

Fenella pulls out her phone and takes a bunch of pictures, posing with Wyatt as they chatter away while I set up my Celestron Omni double refractor. It’s the third telescope I’ve owned and my favourite.

“I can tag you in these,” she says to him. “Your followers will skyrocket if I’m in your feed.”

“He’s sixteen,” I point out. “He doesn’t need any more followers or even reasons to be on social media.”

“Fair. I’ll just post the sky because it is a-ma-zing. Unless you want in on this?” She points her phone at me, but I shake my head.

I’m not sure what to say to Fenella. Me, who can talk to anyone and pride myself on making anyone feel comfortable, have suddenly become tongue-tied when I’m around Fenella Carrington.

She’s just a woman. I know lots of women and I can talk to them all. Princess Lyra is a personal friend. My cousin Edie is going to be queen of Laandia someday. I once served coffee to Taylor Swift’s best friend.

But none of them are Fenella.

“This is justherefor anyone to see.” She tilts her head up, turning in a circle and seemingly enraptured by the vista above.

She should be—it’s one of the best spots in the world to look at the stars.

“Do you bring all your girls here?” Fenella ends up beside me, standing very close.

I drop the bag with the extra lens. I’d rather she be close to me than fall over the edge, but she’s very distracting.

And I have a feeling she likes to be that way.

“Ah, I… No. Not really.”

“I don’t know why not. It’s the perfect spot.” She stares out into the night, the waves a soothing backdrop. My heart gives atraitorous stutter at how peaceful she looks. Every time I see Fenella, she is moving. Constantly active, constant changing expressions. But now she’s still, and her smile…

Stop looking at her smile. She gives the same smile to everyone.

Imagine living each day like it’s an adventure. Imagine having the money to do so.

“Can you see whales from here?” she asks, peering over to look into the dark water.

I forget about the telescope and grab her wrist, letting my fingers slide down to cup her hand and leading her a safe step closer to the edge. The rock does drop off unexpectedly but I’ve been here enough times to know the feel of it.

“Whales, icebergs,” Wyatt tells her. “Grandpa is convinced he once saw all the way to Scotland on a clear day.”

“He didn’t see Scotland,” I chide.

“He might have. It’s the closest to us, just over there.” He stretches out his arm and points over the gray sea.

“Do you know all the stars?” Fenella points up, her hand still in mine. I’m not sure if she realizes it, but I’m very aware—of how small and soft her hand. How cold her fingers are.

Her fingers move, but instead of pulling her hand away, she entwines her fingers with mine.

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