Page 44 of A Billion Dollar Romance
“Are you a burner of water like your friend the restaurateur?” she asked, acquiescing. “At least I know what I’m getting into, and you won’t pretend otherwise.”
“Funny you should mention Barrett, it was one of his restaurants I was thinking of taking you to.”
She took a sip of her coffee, closing her eyes for a moment, her shoulders rising and falling with her breath. I stole a glimpse at her cleavage, just visible through the thin material of my old shirt. “I’ll need to take a shower first,” she said, her lips curving into a smile. “I seem to remember yours is big enough for two…?”
“You remember right,” I growled, taking her coffee cup from her hand and putting it next to mine on the counter. Her legs wrapped around my waist like they belonged there, and she laughed as I plucked her from the countertop and carried her down the hall, through my bedroom to the ensuite, and directly into the shower.
* * *
Over shared brioche french toast soufflé and richly spiced shakshuka–and fresh coffees to replace the ones we hadn’t quite managed to drink at my place–I broached the topic I’d been putting off, and off again:
“I have to go to a conference, three weeks from now,” I said.
“Mmm,” she said, mouth full of brioche. She held a hand up over her mouth and swallowed. “That isso good.Which one?”
“I’ll tell Barrett you said so. And a small one. It’s just for… for executives, I suppose.”
She nodded. “How long will you be gone?”
“Just a few nights.”
“I’ll stock up on romance novels.”
I laughed. “Sure, and moscato, and bubble bath. That’s what you ladies do when the menfolk aren’t around, isn’t it?” I teased.
She arched a brow. “What I do in my bathtub is none of your business.”
I’d never thought about Edie in the bathtub before, not even in my most guilt-plagued nights in my rented apartment off the campus grounds, but I was sure that the image she’d conjured in those few words would dog me until I made my imagination reality. And I was a writer. I had avividimagination.
“I’m sure it isn’t,” I agreed with a nod of my head, “but I was really asking if you might be able to delay those important plans of yours and go with me.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh?”
“Yes. As a junior editor, you wouldn’t be invited, but as my fiancée…” The other wives would be there, and if Edie happened to spend her day networking, attending talks, and not gossiping in the spa, that was her prerogative, was it not?
“Really?” she asked, her enthusiasm obvious in the pitch of her voice, and then shook her head. “Sorry, just–” She glanced down, then back up at me through her lashes. “You know, being James Martin’s fiancée comes with a lot of perks.”
“Brunch, coffee, professional conferences… Oh, and,” I grimaced. “We’ll have to take you shopping, too,” I said.
“For the conference?” she asked, brows furrowed.
“There are cocktail hours, receptions,” I explained. “I can just pack a few suits–”
“You do seem well-stocked in that department,” she interrupted.
“But remember, you won’t be attending as a Junior Editor at Verity, you’ll be attending as the fiancée of the CEO.” She nodded, her serious expression making a smile twitch on my own lips. “You’ll need cocktail dresses.” I’d buy her a new wardrobe befitting abestseller, as well as my date. And… “I might be interested in adding a few more of those pretty little things you wore last night to your collection, too.”
“So selfish, Mr. Martin,” she scolded, but her cheeks were flushed pink over the rim of her coffee cup. Her smile matched my own.
CHAPTER22
Edie
“Good morning, Alice,”I whispered to the secretary as I leaned over her desk, surreptitiously passing her a tiny kraft paper bag. Inside was a sweet bun I’d picked up from the coffee shop next door on my way over to the office.
“Good morning, Edie. You know, youdon’thave to ply me with sugar to get in to see James,” she said, but accepted the bag.
“I don’t have to, but it can’t hurt,” I said, lifting one shoulder. “Is he busy?”
