Page 52 of Coffee Break with the Billionaire

“I thought I’d update your Wikipedia page while you’re here,” I joke. Fenella laughs loud enough to disrupt something in the bush to the side. “Seriously, though, I think you’re interesting.” That didn’t come out too awkward.

It might have had I admitted that I find her fascinating.

“Well, I think you’re interesting too.” She meets my gaze, holds it for a long moment until I drop my chin.

“I own a coffee shop and look at stars. I don’t even have a cat,” I tell her ruefully.

“Do cats make you interesting?”

“Of course, they’re basically the devil incarnate. It takes a certain type of person to survive their evil wiles.”

“Are we talking about the same cats? Cute, furry, little toe beans on their paws? Or do you mean the naked cats, because yes, I’ll give you that. They are evil.”

I laugh.

I can’t kiss her. As much as I want to, I’m not going to, because it will ruin this wonderful bubble we’ve created. This friendship, the magic, whatever else I can call what’s developed between us.

Even if I kiss her, she’s still going to leave, and I don’t want it to be more difficult than it’s going to be.

“I’m really good at the dating part,” she admits like she can read my mind. “It’s the relationships that I get mucked up on.”

“What was your longest relationship?” I ask. “Or is that too much to ask?”

“No, that’s something you’d ask your friend,” she teases. “Not my friends, because they’d already know everything about it, thanks to pictures and social media posts about it. My longest was actually Gunnar. Six months.”

“But you were engaged?”

“Twice. Both were spur-of-the-moment things—I only knew Lennon for a couple of days. We met at Paris Fashion Week when we were modelling for Gucci. Lennon Gallagher?”I shake my head. “Have you heard of Oasis? Big in the 90s? That’s his dad’s band. It annoys me when everyone thinks Millie Bobby Brown is so cool for being with Jon Bon Jovi’s son, and they all forget I had a rocker’s son first.”

My ego, which had shrivelled slightly after last night, now tucks itself up and into my pocket at the name-dropping Fenella does. There is no way I can kiss her now.

No way.

But still, I trudge forward because this is what you do with friends. “And the second time was with… Tiger?”

Fenella rolls her eyes. “Worst mistake ever. Actually, I dated a hockey player once—he who shall not be named—and that was an even bigger mistake. No more hockey players. No more musicians, either. Lennon played in a band too.”

“Maybe you should just stay away from famous men,” I suggest.

“Yeah.” The way she looks at me… “Maybe.”

We stay on the bench for a while longer. I point out stars as they appear, we ask each other questions about our lives.

There’s not much we have in common, but it’s fun. I’m having fun. Fenella laughs a lot.

I don’t kiss her.

“What you said to Wyatt last night,” I say instead. “I assume you were talking about yourself.”

She rolls her eyes. “No, my twin brother.”

“Really? Butyou—”

“Yes, it was about me. But I don’t mention my relationship with my mother as a rule, except if I’m paying three hundred dollars and lying on a therapist’s couch.”

“Therapy is a good thing.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

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