Page 63 of Coffee Break with the Billionaire

It’s easy to find her online: Google her name and a list of her most popular posts scrolls down the screen. Makeup tutorials, dance lessons, reels of her in the most beautiful clothes, with friends and escorts and famous people I recognize from movies and television and who call Fenella a friend.

There are tons of pictures of her with her group. They are celebrities in their own rights, but no one shines as much as Fenella does.

The Billionaire Brats.

I scroll through her posts. It’s not difficult to notice the different expressions she has, each one giving me one more piece of the puzzle. There’s the tight smile she used with Jonathan the other day—I don’t like you but I’m being polite. The professional look—I’m beautiful and I’m getting paid for it.

My favourite smile is the one has when she’s with her friends. Laughing. Eyes bright. Unconcerned.

I like it because that’s the way she looks at me.

And then I give myself a mental kick—I’m supposed to be looking at the places she goes, not how she smiles. A fewminutes later, I come to the conclusion this won’t be a copy of anywhere. This is a new idea for Fenella.

If she gets caught up with it, maybe she’ll stay longer. But that might be torture as well, because she’ll still leave someday.

My sister Emily would have loved a place like this. She used to spend time with her girlfriends at the house, and I would watch them together and marvel at the mysteries of the female.

Maybe if there was a space for her, she might not have gotten messed up with Wyatt’s father. Maybe she wouldn’t have left.

That decides it for me. But I’m not about to tell Fenella just yet. She promised to create a business plan for a bar, and I think that would be a good thing.

I just don’t know if it’s going to be a good thing for me to work with her on this.

Can’t be worse than working every day in the coffee shop.

Chapter twenty-three

Fenella

After dinner, I’m stillhigh on my ideas, so I suggest we head into town so I can check out the competition.

“A reconnaissance mission,” I say to Gunnar, knowing he loves the idea of anything adventurous.

He almost doesn’t agree because Stella isn’t keen on the idea—it’s too late, they’re leaving the next day, she’s tired. It’s Edie who convinces her. She and Kalle both have the night off and are game to continue the family fun.

“But we’re not going to my place,” Kalle says. “You’ve been there enough. You know what it’s like.”

Spencer comes with us, and Duncan and King Magnus agree to one drink at a bar.

Barhopping with the royal family.

Not an unusual night for me.

“No pictures,” Gunnar warns me as we tumble out of the two SUVs. The security team brought us into town, parking in front of our first stop, Geri and Freki’s.

“Want to take my phone to make sure?” I offer it to him.

“I trust you.”

I push it at him. “Seriously, take it. I can’t stop taking the worst pictures when I’m drinking.”

He gives a chortle of laughter and pockets my phone. “Remember that night on Milo’s father’s yacht? I think it was in Greece somewhere and you and Lavinia were doing shots. You took that horrible picture when she was about to throw up—”

“And shedidthrow up, all over the phone—”

“Only it was Rupert’s phone,” Gunnar finishes, slapping his thigh at the memory.

I laugh with him until I catch sight of Stella, standing behind Gunnar. She doesn’t look angry or jealous but somewhat uneasy. Out of place.

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