Page 115 of The Playboy Billionaire

“Really?” I say, looking up in amazement. Transporting the kids from Sunny Down to their classes has been a roaring success.

April laughs, a sound I’m becoming much more familiar with these days. “My business didn’t go up in smoke, it’s more like a phoenix rising from the ashes. With the new development, the community are really getting behind it.” She leans forward and rests a hand against my cheek. “And it’s all down to you.”

“No, little dancer. This is all you. The community and its spirit were always there. I’m just making the wrapping more attractive.”

“Don’t undersell yourself. You’re their hero.”

It’s not the community’s hero I want to be. I’ve been bewitched by my little dancer, she is showing me a different way of looking at the world.

“I’ve got you something,” she says, getting up and moving to the cupboard. She opens it. “A thank you, for all you’vedone for me, for Di. She went back to work this week, there’s no keeping her down.”

I chuckle. Getting to know Di, I now understand where April gets her steely determination. A case of nurture over nature. The woman is a force to be reckoned with but with a soft gooey inside when it comes to her foster daughter.

“You don’t need to buy me things,” I tell her honestly.

She shoots me a shy smile. “I haven’t bought this exactly,” she says, pulling out a decorated jar.

She returns to the table, carrying it in her hands, handing it to me.

“What’s this?”

“I can’t whisk you off to Paris or pay for hip operations. I can’t buy you a new car. But this…” she covers her now glowing cheeks with her hands. “This is so silly; I don’t know what I was thinking.”

She leans forward and tries to take it out of my hands.

“Nope,” I say, grinning as she tries to take it back. “Once a gift has been given, it can’t be rescinded. Frazer house rules.”

She leans forward again, but I stand up and hold it out of her reach.

She sits back in her seat with a huff and glares at me.

“Are you going to tell me what this gift is, the one you are so determined to take back?”

“It’s a date night jar,” she sighs, biting her lip.

“A date night jar?”

“Yes, each piece of paper inside holds personalised date night ideas,” she explains.

I sit back down, my eyes going to the jar in my hand. I turn it around in my hands noting the label on the side.

Caleb and April's Date Night Jar.

I’m suddenly excited to discover the ideas she’s come up with. Time we can spend together as a couple.

I look up to find her watching me, her cheeks rosy.

“It’s silly, really,” she says, leaning forward again.

“Can I open it and choose a date night?”

She sits back, the look of surprise on her face is priceless.

“Of course,” she says quietly.

I place the jar on the table, and gently rock the lid until it pops free. Inside there are lots of multi-coloured pieces of paper, folded with care. I stick my fingers in and fish one out. I sit back in my chair, my elbows resting on the arms as I unfold the pale blue note.

Go for a moonlit walk along the river, followed by a leisurely massage.

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