Page 78 of Billion Dollar Dispute

I can have dinner with a friend.

“I won. Which means I’ll organize,” Harvey deadpans.

I quickly retort, “But then you're doing all the work, and isn't that the loser's job?”

He shakes his head, his tone making it final. “It’s my job. As a man, don’t take it away from me.”

“Fine,” I say, lifting my hands in surrender. “What time do I need to be ready?”

“Six.”

I give Molly a death stare, like she owes me. Clearly thinking this is the best thing ever, she just smiles.

I walk off to my office and try to concentrate on work. But as I pull up the spreadsheet I’ve created, my mind wanders. I’m already thinking about what I’ll wear, what we’ll talk about, and if he will end the night with a kiss.

I’m putting on my beige coat, the anticipation growing with every second as I expect him to arrive any minute. My hands tremble slightly as I choose my favorite light-wash skinny jeans, pairing them with a thin cream high-neck sweater and gray pumps. Not knowing where we’re going, and with limited time,I decided to go with a casual yet chic look. After dropping Chad off at Molly's after work, I rushed home for a quick everything shower.

As I wait, my mind races back to my twenties—the last time I felt butterflies this intense. The nausea and urge to bail are overwhelming, but a knock at the door pulls me back to the present. I take a deep breath, trying to calm the feeling of the tightness in my chest.

“Hi,” I greet him, opening the door. Relief washes over me as I take in his appearance, more casual than usual. He’s wearing a black sweater and black pants with a simple belt. His hair is its usual end-of-day mess, so he must have rushed too, juggling work and organizing this date.

“You look beautiful.”

My cheeks heat, and I drop my gaze to the floor. “Thanks,” I mumble, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah.” I close the door behind me, his presence close, invading my space, and it messes with me. Locking the door, I step outside, expecting his sports car, but instead finding a limousine waiting. As much as I want this to feel like a casual night out as peers, I can’t help but appreciate all the little date-night touches.

“I’ve never been in a limo before.”

“Glad I could pop your cherry,” he says with a chuckle.

I shake my head but laugh. It’s tough trying to maintain a strictly professional relationship, especially when he’s in a playful mood.

A gray-haired man in his fifties, dressed in a crisp suit, opens the door. I smile and climb into the limousine, sinking into the beige leather seats. They’re soft and luxurious, everything I thought it would be. Yet I can’t shake the feeling that I shouldn’t be here. Life has this sick way of pulling the rug out from underme just when I start to feel happy. Letting me fall hard on my ass.

He climbs in beside me, putting a hand on my thigh, and I clasp my hands in my lap, trying to steady them. The drive is short, and we soon arrive in Soho. He gets out first, offering his hand to help me. “How was the ride?”

“Really nice.”

“It’ll take us back later.”

I can’t help but wonder how much later.

“Let’s go.” Harvey ushers me inside, and we take the elevator to the rooftop. It’s just us and a few servers here. This place is quiet, except for some soft music playing through the speakers. Where is everyone else?

“Are you sure it's open?”

He chuckles, his hand skimming my lower back. “I booked the place for just us. I wanted you to be comfortable.”

A snort-like sound comes from my throat. “I prefer to blend in.”

“You couldn’t even if you tried.”

“I guess my cheap clothes stand out,” I mumble, looking down at my outfit.

He moves so fast my breath catches, placing his hand on my chin and angling my face to his. “No. Stop. That’s not what I meant. Stop talking down about yourself. I wish you could see the smart, sweet, and beautiful woman I see.” His eyes burn into mine with such intensity I feel like I might catch on fire.

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