Page 86 of Sexting the Billionaire

The first hint of trouble comes when Mia arrives at the restaurant fifteen minutes late, practically vibrating with excited energy.

"Sorry I'm tardy," she says, sliding into the seat across from me. "The design team invited the interns to see the new prototype samples and I completely lost track of time."

She's so caught up in her enthusiasm that she barely notices it’s Roman beside me until I make the introduction. "Mia, this is Roman Kade, CEO of Elysian. Roman, my sister Mia."

Mia freezes, her eyes widening as she processes who she's been rambling in front of. "Mr. Kade," she manages, her voicejumping an octave. "I didn't realize... that is, Cassie didn't mention..."

"That your dinner companion would include the big bad CEO?" Roman supplies, his tone lighter than his usual boardroom gravity. "Don't worry, I left my corporate villain cape at the office."

I kick him gently under the table. Not helping.

"What my insufferably smug boss means," I interject, "is that this is a casual dinner, not a performance review. He wanted to meet the newest Monroe taking the design world by storm."

This seems to relax Mia slightly, though she still sits straighter than usual, her movements cautious as she unfolds her napkin. "It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Kade. Elysian's approach to sustainable luxury has been revolutionary in the industry."

"Roman, please," he says, signaling for the waiter. "And while I appreciate the praise, your sister's vision for Lumière has pushed our sustainability efforts further than anything we've done before."

I feel a flush of pleasure at his words—not just the praise, but the genuine respect behind it. This is what I've tried to explain to Olivia, to myself. Whatever complications our relationship brings, Roman has never diminished my professional contributions. If anything, he holds me to a higher standard than anyone else.

The waiter arrives with wine for Roman and me, sparkling water for Mia. As Roman orders appetizers with that easy confidence that once intimidated me, I watch Mia watching him—curious, analyzing, forming first impressions.

"So," Roman turns to Mia once the waiter departs, "your sister tells me you're interested in sustainable textiles. Any particular direction you're hoping to explore during your internship?"

And just like that, they're off—discussing innovative fabrics, manufacturing ethics, the tension between luxury and sustainability.

Roman listens to Mia's ideas with the same intense focus he gives to board presentations, asking questions that challenge without dismissing.

By the time our entrees arrive, Mia has lost her initial nervousness, gesturing animatedly as she describes a biodegradable sequin technique she's developing.

"That's precisely the kind of innovation we need," Roman says, genuine interest in his voice. "Would you be willing to show some samples to our accessories team? They've been looking for alternatives to traditional embellishments."

Mia's eyes widen. "Seriously? I mean, yes, absolutely. They're still experimental, but I'd love feedback from professionals."

"Consider it arranged," Roman says, making a note in his phone. "I'll have my assistant connect you with the accessories director tomorrow."

I watch this exchange with a mixture of pride and amusement. For all his claims about leaving work at the office, Roman can't help but recognize and nurture talent when he sees it. It's one of the things I love most about him.

The thought catches me off guard. Love. When did that happen? When did this arrangement, this complicated dance of professional and personal boundaries, transform into something I can only describe with that terrifying four-letter word?

"Cassie?" Mia's voice pulls me from my thoughts. "You okay? You look a little pale."

"I'm fine," I say automatically, though another wave of nausea is building. "Just tired. Big presentation tomorrow."

Roman's hand automatically finds mine on the table, a brief squeeze of support. The gesture is so natural, so instinctivelycomforting, that I don't think about how it might appear until Mia's eyes widen, darting between us.

"Oh my God," she says, comprehension dawning on her face. "Are you two...?"

I follow her gaze to where Roman's hand still covers mine. So much for the careful introduction I'd planned.

"Mia," I begin, unsure how to explain something we've barely defined ourselves. "Roman and I are?—"

"Together," Roman finishes for me, his voice calm but leaving no room for ambiguity. "For several months now."

Mia's expression cycles through shock, confusion, and something that looks distressingly like disappointment. "Several months," she repeats. "And you didn't tell me?"

"I was going to," I say, feeling strangely defensive. "Tonight, actually. But I wanted you to meet him first, to form your own impression without the complication of him being my... boyfriend." The word still feels strange on my tongue, inadequate for what Roman has become to me.

"So this dinner was what? A test?" Mia's voice rises slightly. "To see if I'd approve of my sister dating her boss?"

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