Page 130 of Triplet Trouble For My Billionaire Boss

She exhales softly, a self-deprecating smile pulling at her lips. "Not enough for it to pay the bills."

"I wouldn't say that." I hesitate, unsure if I should say what I'm thinking. But there's something about this night, this moment, that makes me wantto tell her.

She glances up at me, one eyebrow raised.

"You could start your own line."

She snorts, looking away. "Yeah, right."

"No, seriously," I insist.

"It's the dream." She laughs lightly at herself. "But it won't happen for a long, long time."

"Why not?"

She gives me a disbelieving look. "It's not that easy."

"Sure it is."

"No, it's not."

"Why not?"

She blows out an exasperated breath. "Because there are a million other people who are a lot more talented and have a hell of a lot more resources than I do. It's not like I can just open a boutique overnight and have a bunch of models walk down a catwalk wearing my clothes. I have to start from the bottom. Get a job at a design house, get seen. And before all that, I need to go back and graduate!"

She looks so genuinely frustrated that I can't help but grin.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No, seriously," she demands. "Are you laughing at me?"

"Not necessarily at you, no."

"Well,I'mnot laughing, so you're obviously not laughingwithme," she says, annoyed.

I just grin at her.

Annie lets out a sharp breath, clearly irritated, and folds her arms over her chest. The moonlight glints off the waves behind her, making her hair glow like spun gold. “You think this is funny?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I think you’re underestimating yourself.”

She lets out an incredulous laugh. “Oh, please.”

“I’m serious.” I stop walking, turning toward her fully. “You saw it, didn’t you? At the gala? People were hanging on your every word.”

She rolls her eyes. “That was because I was the odd man out and everyone knew it.”

I shake my head. “No, Annie. That wasn’t it.”

She tilts her head, skeptical.

I take a step closer, watching her reaction. “They were talking about your dress. They were talking about you. And do you know what else?”

She stays silent, waiting.

“Abigail Langford didn’t just like your dress—shewantedone.”

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