Page 28 of Seducing the Billionaire

“So you can sew? People still do that?”

She laughs, her low, throaty chuckle so at odds with her personality. “Yes, people still sew. It’s what I was doing before I started at Bishop Industries.”

“You were a seamstress?”

“I guess you could call it that. I made custom clothes for people on Etsy.”

I shift in my seat, getting more comfortable as we start over the Brooklyn Bridge. “Why’d you stop?”

“Oh, it was just something I liked to do. For me.” She smooths the red silk of her dress over her lap, fanning it around her. “Parts of it are actually like this job. Keeping track of orders, materials organized, prioritizing what needs to be done first, attention to detail. But it never really paid the bills and I needed an actual job. We’re, um, kind of tight on money right now.” She glances over at me and away. “My mom’s been to a lot of specialists over the last few years.”

“Insurance doesn’t cover it?”

She makes an irritated sound in the back of her throat. “Don’t get me started on insurance. Our plan is a joke, but it’s all my dad would pay for.”

“The dad that has all these expectations of you?”

Her fingers clench her dress briefly, wrinkling the fabric before she lets go. “I don’t want to talk about him,” she whispers, looking out her window.

What kind of nerve did that hit? “Okay, no problem.” I grasp for something else to ask her, hating the forlornness that suddenly came over her. “Do you have plans to make clothes again someday? Like professionally?”

She looks back over, and I swear there’s gratitude in her eyes for changing the subject. “I had this thought early on in college that I could open my own store one day. Of my own designs, you know? Things I had made myself.” There’s an excited note in her voice I haven’t heard from her before. “I even settled on a business major so I’d understand what I’m doing.”

“What’s stopping you?”

She hitches one shoulder up, her lips twisting. “Life. Time. Money. I never finished my degree. I dropped to part-time for a semester when Mom needed me at home, then dropped out completely when that got to be too much. Besides, I’d still have to get a loan or funding or something. I thought maybe my d—” She cuts herself off, clearing her throat, and looks down at her lap. “Um, someone I know might give me some startup capital, but I’m not sure that’ll happen anymore.”

She folds her hands together, giving me a rueful smile, and I make a split-second decision. “Write me up a business plan and I’ll look it over.”

She blinks, then chuckles. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m being serious. If it’s something you’re passionate about, that you believe in, you should try. I’ll be your first investor.”

She swallows heavily, staring at me. “You’re crazy. You barely know me.”

“I know enough.” She’s smart, driven, organized. “If you had the right resources, you could make anything successful.”

She continues to stare at me like I’ve got two heads, and as the car slows to stop, she looks beyond me through the window. “We’re here.”

I turn, looking at a nondescript brick house, the steps leading up to the front door weathered with age. “I’ll walk you up.”

She carefully gets out, taking quick glances at me as we make our way to the porch. “Are you serious about the business proposal? I wasn’t fishing for money or anything.”

The first step creaks as I put my weight on it, but she doesn’t seem bothered by the sound. Must happen all the time, then. “I know you weren’t. But you had this energy about you when you spoke about it. It obviously means something to you.” I tuck my hands in my pockets, resisting the urge to reach out to her, connect with her the way I want to. “You won’t be with me forever. Vivian’s coming back in a few weeks. You deserve the chance to make it a reality.Ifyour plan is solid.”

An enthusiastic light enters her eyes as her hand comes up to cover her mouth, then just as quickly uncovers it. “Is it crazy that I’m already dreaming about it?”

God, when was the last time I got that excited about something?

The smile on her face steadily grows, her hands fidgeting as she clasps them together. “Connor, I don’t know what to say. I—” She barrels into me, arms wrapping themselves around my shoulders as she squeezes tight. “I know it’s not professional to hug,” she murmurs into my chest. “But thank you. Tonight was amazing. You’re amazing.”

I loosen my hands from out of my pockets, steadying her so she doesn’t unbalance us right off this porch. My fingers flex as they settle on her waist, itching for more, to fully embrace her, but I can’t. I fear I won’t let go if I do.

“It’s nothing. Really.”

She leans back, her face so close my breath stirs the fine hairs at her temple. “It is. Everything’s been going wrong lately and this is the first good thing in a long while. Even if you pass on the plan, at least it’s something.”

I nod, doing all I can not to focus on her smile, those full lips right there, so near it would be nothing to lean forward the barest couple inches and take her mouth in a claiming kiss, settling this waging war inside me once and for all.

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