Page 127 of The Grumpy Billionaire

“I don’t want to not see you.”

“Work on your presentation, and I’ll…well…I don’t know. I just need to think. Or something.”

ChapterFifty-Three

Stella

I’min bed in my pajamas, half-reading a book, when I hear Kelsey come in the front door, back from her Tuesday evening rehearsal.

“Don’t worry about being quiet!” I call out. “I’m up.”

“You got a package!”

“Okay!”

I’ve been miserable without Hugo. Miserable at work without seeing him. Just miserable. It’s been three days, and I haven’t figured out what to do. I feel like I can’t live without him.

“Not from Amazon!” she calls. “It’s a Brooklyn address.”

“No name?”

“Would I not say the name if there was a name?”

I pull on my robe and plod out there. “I was gonna make avocado toast anyway.”

“There’s only half an avocado left.”

“Sigh.” I spot the package. It’s the size of a microwave, all wrapped in brown paper.

“You know anyone in Brooklyn?” she asks.

“Nope.” I tear it open. The box is filled with several varieties of packing materials, and whatever is in there is wrapped in tissue paper inside a layer of bubble wrap like it’s the most precious thing ever.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. Some kind of silver dish?”

As I unroll the layers of packing, my heart begins to pound.

It’s a cheese ball tray, but not a conventional one where you smush it onto a plate and surround it with crackers. No, this is a cheeseball tray just for a cheeseball. There’s a small cup with a spike where you put the cheeseball itself, and little arms on hinges can be bent in to hold the sides in place to help it keep its spherical form, but you can bend them back out if you want to get at a yummy part.

“What the hell,” I breathe. “How is this even possible?”

“I’m looking at it, and I still don’t get what it is.”

“Magic is what it is. From Hugo.” I unwrap a little silver spoon. There’s an owl on the end of it. It doesn’t officially go with the tray part, but it’s close enough. And it has an owl.

“Cute,” Kelsey says.

I set it out on the coffee table. “It’s the perfect cheeseball tray for spoon-eating a cheeseball.”

“There are more of you out there?”

“I guess!” I turn it, marveling at it. “And you know what isn’t here? A place for crackers.”

“You could stick it on a plate and add crackers if you wanted,” Kelsey jokes. “But why would you?”

“This is so…everything.”

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