Page 56 of Resisting the Billionaire

He shrugs, rolling those big shoulders back. “It’s all superficial. I like helping them out, as long as they don’t ask for money. Connections are easy. But that’s what they want me for. Not forme.”

Wow, that sounds incredibly lonely. But it also makes a lot of sense when I stop to consider it. “So what doyouwant?”

He looks over at me, heat flaring in his eyes as he gives me a once over.

“Besides that,” I mumble, my cheeks heating.

He smirks for a moment before sobering. “I don’t know,” he finally says. “I was never meant to take over Dad’s company. He groomed Archer for that. I’m still not sure what I’m supposed to do.”

I want so badly to reach out and squeeze his hand, stroke his arm, give him a hug, but I can’t. Not here in public.

“I’m envious of you.”

“Of me?” I ask, my brows jumping up.

He nods. “You’ve got it all figured out. You know exactly what you want.”

I blink rapidly, not convinced I’m hearing him right. “Gabriel, I’m constantly flying by the seat of my pants. I had all these grand plans that backfired majorly on me.”

“But you stuck it out.” He turns to me, pride shining in his eyes. “You don’t let anything keep you down. That first time we met at your office, you were so enthusiastic, so knowledgeable. It was really obvious you love what you do.”

I tamp down the urge to smile goofily, not wanting him to see how much his words affect me. “I do, but it’s not like it’s all fun and games.”

“Like what?”

“Getting people to pay me is always awkward. And holding up a bride’s dress when they use the restroom.”

“You actually have to do that?” he laughs. “Shouldn’t a bridesmaid or someone be there to help?”

“They’re usually on their way to shitfaced by that point in the night. Oh, and plunging overflowing toilets at the reception. That’s always fun.” I eye him carefully. “Have you ever plunged a toilet?”

He gives me a sardonic look. “What do you think?”

I laugh. “There’s normally some kind of family drama I have to mediate too. Your wedding being no exception.”

“What?” he rears back, faux affronted. “Just because the bride and groom don’t speak to each other? You call that drama?”

I turn my face to hide a grin, knowing I shouldn’t be laughing at that.

“What else is bad?”

“Hmm.” I look out at the water, wishing I had this kind of view from my apartment. “I’ve never been great at marketing. You seem to be better at it than me,” I laugh, thinking of him networking at his party, the way he even thought to put that decal on my office window with my business information. “But mostly the uncertainty of how much my business will make month to month. There’s something to be said for working for someone else. You can at least rely on a steady paycheck. I thought for a while there…” I trail off, wondering if I shouldn’t be talking about financial stuff like this with him.

“What?”

I shrug, turning to face him again. “I might have to cut my losses and leave. Move back to Ohio to regroup.”

“I’m glad you didn’t. Then I’d never have met you.”

I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to take it if he keeps saying such sweet things.

His hand inches closer to mine on the railing, not touching, but close enough to feel the heat from him. I let myself linger for a moment then step away, tucking my hands in the folds of my dress. “There are lots of positives too. Like when my clients are so in love,” I babble, not sure where I’m going with this. “I mean, obviously they’re all in love. They’re getting married.”

He gives me a pointed look.

“Okay, maybe not all. You’re the exception to the rule.” In so many things. The only person I’ve ever worked with that I felt this kind of attraction to.

And who returns it so wholeheartedly.

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