Page 69 of My Big, Fat, Hot Billionaire Enemy
The thought is terrifying. The inadequacy monster whispers nasty little doubts in my ear.
He helped today out of pity. Or strategy.
Once the deal is done, he’ll discard you.
My phone buzzes on the coffee table, startling me. The secure number. Again.
My heart does that stupid lurch.
Site secured?Need anything? -C.
Short.To the point. Almost impersonal. Almost.
But he’s checking in. After everything.
That has to count for something.
I stare at the message for a long time. Every rational thought screams at me to shut him down now, while I still can.
This is too complicated.
Too messy.
But I’m already in too deep.
No, it’s not too late. I can still turn back.
He’s got walls higher than the Hammond Tower.
And getting involved personally is professional suicide and emotional hari-kari.
But… I remember the vulnerability in his eyes in the Hamptons. The unexpected honesty. The way he looked at me last night. The quiet competence today.
The way my body still aches in the bestpossible way.
Maybe… maybe Ava is right. Maybe sometimes you have to be willing to climb the walls.
Or at least peek over the top.
My thumbs hover over the keypad. I still hesitate. This feels like another point of no return.
Agreeing to see him again, outside of a crisis or a negotiation… it acknowledges that this ismore. More than business. More than just sex.
Screw it.
What’s life without a little high-stakes emotional risk?
What was that Spiderman used to say?
With great risk comes great reward.
Actually no, that was Thomas Jefferson, or something. Well whatever, the sentiment still stands. I type my text:
Site stable for now.Thanks again for everything today. Really, I mean that. And no, don’t need anything. But… maybe I’ll see you soon? -L.
I hitsend before I can overthink it. The reply comes back almost instantly.
Tomorrow.Dinner. My place. 7pm.
