Page 28 of “Not” Engaged to the Grumpy Billionaire

I shake off the unease and step into his office, holding two takeout bags in my hands. His favorite. If anything is going to pull him out of whatever funk he is in, it’s this.

“Nate,” I say, stepping inside without knocking. “I brought lunch.”

He barely looks up, and mutters something about being busy.

I roll my eyes and walk right over to his desk, setting the bags down with a thud.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been missing lunch lately, and that’s not good for your health.”

“I’ve been busy,” he grumbles, not taking his eyes off the computer.

I cross my arms, tilting my head as I look at him.

“Well, you’ve got to eat. And I’m not leaving until you join me.”

His fingers pause over the keyboard for a moment, as if considering his options, then he lets out a long sigh.

“Liz—”

“Nate,” I interrupt, matching his tone with a teasing one of my own.

“Come on. You need a quick lunch break. I promise I won’t keep you long.”

Finally, he glances up at me, and I see something flicker in his eyes. He’s reluctant, but I can tell he’s softening. He stands up, pushing his chair back with a resigned sigh.

“Fine. But only because you’re stubborn.”

I flash him a grin, the kind that I know usually makes him roll his eyes, but this time? I see the smallest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. It warms something inside me.

We move over to the small table in his office, and I set out the food. I make sure to sit close enough to him that we’re not shouting across the room. But far enough away that the tension simmering between us doesn’t get too out of control. Though lately, I don’t know if there’s any distance that would help with that.

“Here,” I say, sliding his favorite dish toward him. “I knew you’d be too wrapped up in work to grab something, so I took the liberty.”

He looks down at the food, then back up at me, his expression softer now.

“Thanks, Liz. You didn’t have to.”

I wave him off.

“Please. I enjoy feeding grumpy workaholics.”

He chuckles, and the sound sends a small shiver through me. I miss hearing him laugh. Lately, it’s been all brooding Nate, and I miss the way we used to talk, the easy banter we shared.

We dig into the food, and for the first few minutes, it’s quiet, but not the uncomfortable kind. I can feel him relaxing a bit, like the weight on his shoulders is momentarily forgotten. Then, as if to break the silence, I decide to test the waters.

“You know,” I say, trying to keep my tone light,

“I’ve noticed you’ve been off lately. And I don’t think it’s work.”

Nate glances up at me, chewing slowly, his eyes narrowing a fraction. “What makes you say that?”

I shrug, poking at my food.

“Call it intuition. I mean, I know you pretty well by now, and you’ve been... distant.”

He sets his fork down, leaning back in his chair, his expression unreadable.

“I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”

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