Page 79 of Billion Dollar Dispute

The rawness in his words is palpable, and my heart beats faster in response.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t smart. I’d say I am, since I’ve been trying to stay away from you.”

“You can’t outrun me,” he says, stroking my cheek. “When I want something, I’m persistent until I get it.”

“You’re annoyingly persistent, and most times I just wished you’d shut up.” I smirk.

“There are other ways to shut me up.” His voice dips low as he leans forward.

“Mr. Lincoln,” a male voice interrupts.

I glance past his shoulder to see a server wearing an apron and flushed cheeks from interrupting us. We haven’t even sat down to have a drink and he’s already trying to kiss me… and I don’t know if I will be strong enough to fight this.

When it’s just us, and he’s sweet, it’s hard to keep my walls up. He's been slowly chipping away at them, proving to me he’s kind and intelligent. I see beyond his money now. Part of me believes he genuinely wants me. And because of that tonight, I plan to have fun.

“Yes?” Harvey says in a clipped tone, annoyed by the interruption. I bite my lip to hide a smile trying to escape my lips.

“Come this way. Your private table is ready.”

I stifle a laugh at the way the server emphasizes “private.” Something I should be worried about because being alone with Harvey is dangerous.

We follow the server, and I can’t tear my eyes away from the panoramic views of New York. It’s stunning and something I’ll remember forever. The black-and-white seats of the booths, candles lit up in the middle of every table, and fairy lights hanging throughout create a romantic setting.

We sit, and the server comes by to take our drink orders. “What kind of food do they serve here?”

“Mexican.”

I grin as I glance at the menu. “I love tacos.”

“So I take it you're happy now that I organized this?”

I tap my chin, pretending to think. “I’m surprised. It's this relaxing… and yet beautiful,” I admit, letting my eyes linger on him.

“What did you expect?”

I shrug. “Fancy, but not the uncomfortable kind.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You thought I’d be bougie?”

I nod, meeting his gaze with a teasing smile. “Yeah.”

“I can be if you want, but it’s not really my thing. And I guessed from the few times I’ve seen you that you like to let your hair down after work.”

“You mean my lazy attire.” I laugh.

“If you have lazy attire, so do I,” he replies with a smirk.

“I’ve never seen it,” I challenge with a raised eyebrow.

“I’ll make sure to show you,” he promises, leaning slightly closer, his grin teasing.

I don’t think he could look bad if he tried.

“But I’m not mad now that I lost. Your cake was better.”

“Yours just needed to come out a few minutes earlier, and you might have won.”

My gaze drops, and I feel the weight of a secret pressing down on me. I want to tell someone about the letter. He sits patiently, waiting for me to speak. The server brings our drinks and chips and salsa, then leaves.

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