Page 73 of Resisting the Billionaire

Mackenzie

“Hi, honey.”

“Hey, Mom.” I balance my phone between my ear and shoulder as I continue typing up this invoice for Danielle I never finished earlier.

“Well, your dad and I are finally back in our normal routine after our little jaunt out to see you the other week.”

“That’s good.” I suspect Danielle will try to haggle with me about this, but there’s no way I’m letting her get away with not paying for all the extra work we did for her.

“We just had the best time, especially when Gabriel got us those Broadway tickets.”

Wait. He never told me he did that for them. I thought they bought those themselves the night after we all had dinner together.

“And that Chez Alexandre’s,” she gushes, enunciating the silentzinchez. I cringe at her butchering of the French language. “So fancy. Maybe Gabriel can set you up with one of his friends.”

Ugh, here we go with setting me up with someone. “Yeah, maybe,” I mutter, hitting send on the invoice.

“You haven’t met anyone, have you?”

It’s the neverending question, asked at least every other phone call, and one of the main reasons I don’t contact her as often as I should.

“I-” I automatically start to say no, then blurt out, “I kind of have.”

I still can’t get last night out of my head. How in sync we were, how connected I felt to him. He was right when he said it was incredibly hot - and we didn’t even touch each other. If it’s that good with our clothes on… No, no. I shouldn’t think like that. But how can I not revel in the memories?

And then today’s conversation at lunch proved again how easy, how natural it is to be around him…

“That’s wonderful,” Mom practically shrieks in my ear. My phone drops to my desk at the loud noise and I cautiously pick it back up once the screeching ceases.

“No, wait. Don’t get too excited. It’s… complicated.”

“Okay,” she says, her voice returning to a normal pitch. “But tell me about him.”

I shrug helplessly, knowing she can’t see me, and swivel my chair toward the outside window, the one with the decal on it Gabriel got for me. “He’s charming, kind, handsome.”

“Like a Disney prince?” she laughs.

A little dirtier than anything I’ve seen from Disney, but I keep that to myself. “Yeah, but he has some family issues he’s dealing with. I don’t think-” I take a deep breath at the sudden sting of tears that threatens. “Things aren’t going to work out between us.”

“Honey, I can’t remember the last time you said you were interested in someone.” I hold the phone a little closer, needing her soothing tone right now. “Fight for him if you can.”

At the cost of everything I’ve worked so hard for? No, that’s… not possible. I just received another email inquiry for a wedding planner this morning who heard about me solely because I’m planning Gabriel’s wedding. I’d burn all the bridges I carefully built by rejecting this opportunity.

“I’ll think about it, Mom.”

She happily continues chattering about our neighbors back home - who’s running for town council and a budding romance between the high school principal and local locksmith. I don’t bother reminding her I moved away eight years ago to escape all that, dissatisfied with the minutiae of small-town living, craving the hustle and bustle of a big city.

But really, what has it gotten me? A mountain of debt and no social life.

No, I love what I do. Honest. I make dreams come true.

Just not my own.

I hang up with my mom ten minutes later and work the rest of the afternoon on a seating chart and day-of timeline for an upcoming wedding booked next month, stopping only when Diana knocks on my open door.

“Can I get your help potting something? I need a second set of hands real quick.”

“Sure.”

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