Page 12 of Billion Dollar Revenge

“I better grab that,” he says, but there’s a lingering note in his voice, like he’s not quite ready to leave.

His jaw clenches, and for a moment, I expect him to say something else, but he turns and strides to the counter. I watch him as he grabs the bag, and when he spins around, catching me checking him out, I quickly dart my eyes away. To my surprise, he returns.

When he’s beside me again, I force myself to look at him, and my stomach somersaults and then grumbles loudly. I wrap my arms around myself, as if that's going to help shut it up.

“You better go order,” he says. His eyebrows have joined in the middle, assessing me.

“I’m in line to do just that,” I reply, just as my stomach rumbles loudly again.Seriously?

“You’re really pale. Go sit over there, and I’ll get you something,” he insists, directing me to a chair. His eyes drop slowly over my body, settling on my legs before meeting my gaze. I’m a little lightheaded and really nauseous now, and I bet it’s from my recent loss of appetite and sleep.

“I’m fine…”I think…

“You look like you’re going to pass out,” he argues.

Turning my hands so my palms are facing up, I inspect the color of them, but they don’t look unusually pale. Still, I’m not about to argue with him or find a mirror to check. I don’t care that much, it’s just food. And my body clearly needs something to shut it up and stop screaming at me. Before I faint, I nod. “Okay. But I need enough for three.”

He stares at me for a moment, and I get a sense he’s about to ask me something else, but instead, he shakes his head. I find myself stunned, watching him move effortlessly to the counter before I turn and find a table in a quiet corner with a view of outside.

I smooth down my pants, trying to make them look better. It’s pointless, because I’m sitting in stained clothes, with three-day-old oily hair tied in a bun on my head, and old, crusty makeup, which is so ungodly embarrassing next to his pristine suit. Usually, I’m not this self-conscious. I don’t even know why I care what he thinks of me. I shouldn’t...But I worry that my appearance screams, “I just broke up with my boyfriend,” and I don’t need his sympathy.

But for some dumb reason, I care what Mr. Evan Lincoln thinks of me.

I stare absentmindedly out the window when a soft bang snaps me out of my daydream, and I see Evan has returned with a tray full of food and drinks. The wrinkle in between his brows and the lines beside his eyes remind me that he is older than me. Maybe late thirties.

He takes a seat opposite me, filling the chair with his large frame.

“You must be hungry,” I tease, trying to ignore the warm rush I feel when our knees touch from under the table.

“It’s for three,” he replies as he leans his elbows on the table.

I shift far back in my seat so there's no more physical contact between us. I stop and try to think of the last time a guy did something like this for me. I come up short. Yet here’s this man, generously spending time and money on me.

“That’s still a lot,” I protest, looking at the amount to feed an army, not three girls.

He shrugs, unfazed. “Eat what you want.”

“What will you do?” I ask when I notice he hasn’t moved.

“Eat my sandwich,” he replies simply.

Emotion clogs my throat, and I fight back a laugh. I clear my throat and pick up the bottle of Coke, taking a sip. The sweet sugary liquid soothes me, and I close my eyes, savoring the taste.

When I lower the bottle, I find Evan's gaze fixed on my face. I can’t sit here like this any longer. The intensity of his look is too much.

“Can you start eating? I’m uncomfortable with you watching me,” I say, hoping to break the tension.

He doesn’t answer, but he sits up, dropping his elbow from the table and closing the distance between us.

Unwrapping his sandwich, he takes a bite while staring at me with a popped brow as if to say,you happy now?

I giggle at his sour expression.

“What?” he asks, leaning back, his eyes tightening at the corners.

“The fact that you were going to sit and wait for me to eat, when you’re clearly hungry too is adorable.”

Evan's powerful presence is intimidating. So when his flat expression softens?and I swear a flicker of amusement hits his face?it relaxes me. It makes him more approachable.

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