Page 82 of Billion Dollar Dispute

Her gaze sharpens, and I immediately regret my choice of words. I haven’t dated anyone since we started working together, and the thought of being with someone else now seems ridiculous. She’s different—genuine, unpretentious, and refreshingly real.

“I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thanks,” I say lightly, trying to fix the moment.

As our steps fall in sync and her arm brushes mine, a comfortable silence envelops us.

“Are you heading into the office tomorrow?” she asks, watching her eyes drift toward the city lights as they cast reflections in her eyes, making her look even more captivating.

“Yeah, I have my quarterly meeting.”

“Where do you get your confidence from?” she asks, genuinely curious. Her approach has always fascinated me.

“I'm just good at faking it,” I admit.

“Fake it till you make it… So cliche,” she says with a vulnerable laugh, her eyes sparkling. It’s a rare glimpse into her, and I cherish it.

I nod. “It’s true, though. We pretend we do care until it becomes ingrained in us.”

“You’re strong. It won't be hard to keep it up,” I say, my voice filled with quiet conviction.

“Just keep being a bitch to you and I’ll be fine?” she teases.

I bump her shoulder. “We both know you secretly like me. But it’s okay. I love watching you pretend you don’t.”

Her mouth parts slightly, and I shake my head in a playful way. When she closes her mouth, a small smile plays on her lips.

“Have you finished the financials?” I ask, changing the subject as we stop walking when we reach Central Park. She won’t let me touch the numbers. I still haven’t told her I stumbled upon those papers by accident.

“Not yet,” she sighs, the weight of the workload evident in her tone.

“When you’re finished, we need to have meetings about operations, customer service, sales, and financial reviews.”

“It's so much,” she murmurs, her shoulders sagging.

I open the small bag of seeds and hold it toward her, and she silently takes it. “It won't be if you stick to running the business. We’ll hire good employees to handle the day-to-day stuff.”

“I’m scared of hiring people,” she confesses, her voice barely above a whisper.

She means people who might leave, disappoint, or hurt her.

I stop our walk, turning to face her. My hand skims up her arm, and goosebumps rise in the wake of my touch. “That’s what I’m here for,” I say softly. “I’ll show you how to ask the right questions and to help you choose.”

She purses her lips, her eyes filled with uncertainty. “Yeah, it’s getting too much for me and Molly to handle it all.”

“Exactly. Your business is growing every day. Expanding will make you become more successful.”

She exhales deeply. “I know, but I don’t think I can handle any more change.”

“Our brains resist change because it’s trying to keep us safe.”

“I like safe,” she says, smiling softly. I know why she craves it after everything her shit ex put her through.

“I’ve never talked about work on a date before,” I confess, wanting to keep the conversation light.

“No?” she asks, her expression cautious.

We finish feeding the birds and naturally resume our walk through the park. “They always talked about their nail appointments, how much money I make, where I was taking them next, or how they spent two hours doing cardio.”

---