Page 66 of Just Not That Into Billionaires

“Well then why sell to them?” she asks.

“Because I can’t run the firm alone. Big-picture thinking is not my thing,” I say. “Don’t forget, I’m the microrobotics guy.”

She gazes up at the ceiling. There’s a skylight up there, and you can see fluffy white clouds sailing slowly across the bright blue sky.

“My roommate Noelle and I used to eat chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream,” she says. “The only good part was the chocolate chip cookie dough. So, whenever we’d have it we were both always angling to get the bites with chocolate chip cookie dough. One day I found a package of just chocolate chip cookie dough. And I was like, why are we not getting this? So we got it.”

“It was better?”

“Much better. So my question to you would be, what are the chocolate chip cookie dough parts? Is there a way that you can arrange your company so there are only chocolate chip cookie dough parts?”

I shift the pack. “How did I skip the chocolate chip cookie dough section in my business courses? I can’t imagine how it happened.”

“Seriously!” She pokes at my thigh. “Tell me the chocolate chip cookie dough parts.”

I’m watching her, mind spinning.

“What?” she says.

“What?” I ask.

“You’re looking at me funny.”

I adjust the ice pack. It’s a good question she’s asking. Simple. “Chocolate chip cookie dough parts,” I say. “Working with the team in the lab. I’m not good with people—”

“Wuuuuut,” she jokes.

“Right?” I say. “But when we have a project between us, a natural thing to orient around, then I enjoy a team.”

“What would you work on? If you had that year and that team. If you weren’t in Juliana’s lab.”

Before I can stop myself, I’m telling her about microrobots scavenging vibrations for energy. She thinks I’m making it up. I’m laughing, going on and on, fed by her amazement. At one point I notice she’s beaming at me. “What?” I ask.

“I love how intense you are about it,” she says. “When you’re in that lab, you probably give it your whole soul.”

“My whole soul! Let’s hope not,” I say, and she snorts.

I don’t know what to do with her affection, her help, her kindness. This marriage is a mirage and I’m dying of thirst.

“I mean, can’t you get a team like that?” she asks.

“I have one, but I can’t run the business without James.”

“Can’t you find another James? And you go, here’s some money, please steer this thing and leave me alone in my lab? Aren’t there headhunters and things?” she asks. “Don’t you deserve to be happy?”

That question, I don’t know what to do with it.

I sit there with her legs in my lap like the sexiest keyboard in the world, my hands formed around an ice pack, trying to still the thundering in my chest.

I’d meant to keep her at arm’s length, but I’m doing a shit job of it. Things are feeling real now, and I’m feeling raw.

I need more of her. And I also need her to stop.

I lower my voice. “Are you even concentrating on relaxing your muscles?”

Her gaze rivets to me. The low voice affects her—I noticed that earlier.

“Or are you worrying about my business?” I rumble, brushing her thigh as I adjust the pack.

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