Page 64 of Flirting with My Billionaire Enemy

“I’ll think about it,” I say. “But I’d better let you go. I have to get some work done tonight.”

“Do you need anything for Mittens?” she asks.

“No, my cousin and her boyfriend are headed to the store to grab necessary things for her.”

“I can have someone deliver some items to your door,” she offers.

“That’s so nice of you, but we have it covered.”

“At the very least, let me reimburse you for the supplies.”

“Sure, if it makes you feel better.” She knew my Venmo information since she’d paid me to pick something up for her at the store once.

I hang up with her, and $600 shows up in my account with a little cat emoji next to it. Mrs. Keith is pretty smartphone savvy for a woman her age. But I can’t help but gawk at the huge amount of money she’s sent me. “What kind of pet supplies does she think I’m buying? A litter box made of gold?” It was like that when she sent me the money for the shopping trip. She’d sent me hundreds of dollars for a couple of loaves of bread and a box of Lucky Charms, and she wouldn’t accept any change from me either.

I text her.Thank you for the money, but you didn’t have to send that much. I’m sure they’re only going to spend about $20 or $30.

She answers me quickly.Think of it as gas money too, then.

Thank you.

I’m not used to having someone take care of me, even after weeks of being waited on hand and foot by her staff members. But this is different. It’s not her job to spoil me rotten. This feels more personal, and it’s doing funny things to my heart to have a mother figure in my life again. I can’t help but wipe away tears from her love and generosity.

But will I be able to keep her around, or am I destined to lose her just like the other mother figures in my life?

30

KAISON

I’ve locked myself in my room for the rest of the day. I’m done with my involvement in the project, so now it’s up to Ariana to finish it.

I have nothing better to do than wallow in my heartbreak. I spend the rest of the day after she leaves in my bed with the covers pulled up and a box of tissues to wipe away my tears. I’m one of those guys who cries easily, but I never let anyone see me cry. It’s a very private, pitiful thing.

A little meow sounds from next to me, and I look down to see Zeb on the floor, begging to be picked up. It’s like he can sense that I’m sad and need some comfort. He’s learned that my door doesn’t latch properly, and he often comes to visit me at night. I would say it’s annoying, but I’m a sound sleeper and I often don’t realize he’s come into the room until morning when I find him curled up next to me. Usually Mittens comes with him, but I haven’t seen her in a while.

You would think my parents could afford to fix my door, but it’s an antique, and it’s probably hard to find the parts for it. Not that they couldn’t track it down, but it’s one of those things that’s been overlooked. I’m sure if I became the squeaky wheel, it would get fixed, but I don’t really care. It’s nice to wake up with the cute little furballs next to me every morning.

Mom had come to check on me after I missed dinner, and she was able to get the story out of me. Boy, she wasn’t happy to hear that Ariana and I had broken things off. I think she was already knitting baby sweaters for our future children.

A text from Ariana pops through.I have Mittens. I swear I didn’t kidnap her on purpose.

I type in a quick reply.You sure you’re not asking for ransom?

That depends. What are you offering?

I know what I want to say, but I’m not sure she’d like the answer. I want to tell her I’m in love with her and I’m offering myself to her. My heart, my body, and my soul. I want to get down on one knee and offer her the biggest diamond she’s ever laid eyes on. But those wouldn’t be the words of a guy who’s giving her space to figure things out.

But I have to wonder at her question too. What is she expecting me to say? It sounds playful and fun, almost like the old Ariana is back, the one I ache to hold and joke around with.

I don’t think you want to hear what I’m offering, so I won’t say it.

She doesn’t respond, which tells me I’m right.

I finally drag myself out of bed when my stomach gets mad enough at me. I find a container of leftovers in the fridge that Lidia must have put there from dinner. It looks like enchiladas and refried beans. Hers are to die for, and my mouth is watering already.

After I have them heated, I sit to eat at the bar. The side door opens, and Weston and Callie come inside.

“What are you two doing here so late?” I ask.

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