Page 99 of The Grumpy Billionaire

I call Carruthers and purchase it. Felix promises to wrap it up for me and set it aside.

I’m not giving up. I can’t.

ChapterForty-Two

Hugo

“Maybe we should getpineapple on that pizza,” I say one Saturday afternoon. It’s breezy and warm for October. I’d have the windows open if not for the jackhammers outside. There’s some underground pipe situation.

Stella’s sitting up on my kitchen island, swinging her legs back and forth. “I know what you’re doing.”

I go to her. “What am I doing?”

“Trying to get me to ask about the pineapple. You think if I keep breaking my own rules and asking personal questions, you’ll get to ask questions about me, and we’ll just slide into dating, but you’re wrong.”

“I’ll add pineapple on half,” I say. I hit submit and put my phone aside.

“You’re so evil,” she says.

“Can’t people in no-strings, no-life-details affairs order pineapple on their pizzas?” I ask innocently.

“Come on, fine, just tell me. Why does everybody at work think you’re allergic to pineapple?”

“So you want to know my life details, but I can’t know yours?” I skim my hands over her hips. “The gifts, the pineapple.”

We just had a particularly vigorous round of kitchen-counter sex, and I still can’t keep my hands off her.

“Tell me,” she begs.

“You do realize you’re being logically inconsistent.”

“Logically inconsistent,” she say in a robot voice. “Insufficient data. Alert! Alert!”

I give her a grumbly kiss.

“Please tell me.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I’m begging.” She pulls me to her. “I’m begging.”

I groan. “So you know I wanted to work with Wulfric from the first time I was aware of him. Goblin that he is, Quantum Capital Partners had everything I needed to achieve my vision for that first data model.”

“Your triumphant debut,” she says.

“Not only did he have all the right pieces in terms of this company, but say what you will, he gives people the freedom they need to do bold work. The next best thing to starting my own firm, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to do that, much as people thought I should. Bossing people is not how I want to spend my time.”

“Being that you hate people.”

“And people hate me right back.”

“Fair point.”

I grab plates and set them on the island. “So there was going to be this interview with him. It felt very high stakes to me, and I knew he was talking to other people. And of course I’d heard about his reputation for being mercurial and combative. And I was still in my early twenties, fresh out of a PhD program, not at all good with people. He invites me out to dinner at this steak place in the village—he’s sending his jet to fly me up from MIT.”

“That was the interview? A dinner out?”

“Yeah. I would’ve done anything for it to be on Zoom or maybe even text. I wanted to talk about my plans and ideas without worrying about ordering and eating and social niceties and all that.”

---