Page 83 of The Grumpy Billionaire

So I text her.

Me: I’m coming over. Be ready for me.

Stella: What? You can’t. No-strings. Remember? TAWDRY.

Me: People in no-strings office affairs can see each other outside of the office. It’s known as a booty call.

Stella: You’re not coming over.

Me: Fine. Come over here.

Stella: We can’t see each other’s places. That’s boyfriend-girlfriend stuff. We have established this.

My groan of frustration echoes across my living room. I need to see her, and I’m not taking her to Hotel Luxe.

Stella: Patience and self-control pleez.

I know Stella well enough to know that this message is aimed as much at herself as it is at me.

Me: I’m picking you up in twenty. You won’t see my place. We don’t even have to talk. How about that?

Dots appear. Disappear.

Me: Dirty, dirty fucking. I will make you relent so hard.

Dots appear. Disappear.

I decide to sweeten the pot.

Me: Wear something you’re not attached to.

Stella: Hmmmmm.

I smile. The last time I ripped something was at Hotel Luxe one morning before work. I was out of control in a way I found troublingly primitive, but Stella loved it.

Me: Be out on the street in thirty minutes.

Stella: So…is this a hotel situation?

Me: See you in twenty-nine.

I pocket my phone.

Stella loves surprises. I’m still surprised that she turned down the gift and my offer to take her to the one restaurant that she would love the most, but she’ll go for this.

In data modeling, you start with the one thing you are sure about—this is known as the primary entity. From there, you expand out by making and testing observations. Little by little, you add related entities. You keep iterating and expanding until the model covers the entire system.

* * *

She slidesinto the car wearing a winter scarf and hat, rosy-cheeked from the whipping wind. She sets her giant everything purse on her lap. “Back in the golden egg mobile.”

I take hold of her scarf and pull her in for a kiss. I love her. I love us together.

“Where are we going?” she asks.

“Does it matter? We’ll be fucking. You won’t see my place. Those are your conditions, are they not?”

Warily, she studies my face. “A rent-by-the-hour hotel?”

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