Page 44 of Never Fake Date the Financier
Although I’m sure we both know the real reason. Sleeping next to Ella felt right. Natural. And from the moment I slid in next to her and heard her rhythmic breathing, I felt my body relax as quickly and smoothly as a curtain being pulled over me.
“So what’s for breakfast again?”
Ella stares at me, smiles, and mutters. “A sausage breakfast sandwich. There’s bacon and egg and cheese on it too. Added some avocado too for good measure.”
“The works?”
“Of course. I need to get my fill before I spend the rest of the day eating like a rabbit. Or fasting…”
She sighs and then takes a massive bite out of her sandwich, swallowing it a few moments later. “Don’t judge.”
I shrug. “I’d never.”
After digging into my own sandwich, I understand. This thing is amazing.
“I ran into Sariah and Max downstairs. They were completely understanding about us ditching early.”
“I wouldn’t call it ditching.”
“Lillian thinks so, apparently. She made an appearance as well.” Ella sighs, setting down her sandwich.
“Who cares what she thinks? My parents love you. Max and Sariah, too. I—” damn near said I loved her. And it wouldn’t be a lie. “I think you’ve done amazingly well with such short notice. You’ve been thrown into the deep end without a life preserver, but you’ve survived. Thrived. I’m proud of you.”
She studies me for a few moments. “Thanks.”
We settle into a comfortable silence, neither of us feeling the need to break it as we eat, glancing out the windows. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this comfortable with someone. Or the last time I’ve spent this long without checking my phone or thinking about work. There could be a million little fires I need to put out right now at work, but I have no idea. And honestly, I don’t care. All that matters to me right now is enjoying whatever time I have left with Ella.
It feels like we’re in this little bubble. I hope we can float along a while longer because I’m not looking forward to the day it pops.
“I want to help you,” I say after some time.
Ella stares at me. “Help me?”
“That story you told my parents. About your teacher. Your school. How you want to give back. I want to help you start that foundation.”
She smiles, cheeks reddening again. And again, I’m struck by how gorgeous she is. Every piece of her. “Thanks. I mean it. But that’s so far away. It’s a goal. A journey. It’s not something I need or expect right now. I mean, I’m hardly making it as an actress as it is. I wouldn’t even say I’m making it.” She shrugs, turning her attention to some indeterminate spot outside. “I’m scraping by. That’s why I wanted that PA job. Something to get me in the door. Some connections. Starting a foundation for the arts when I haven’t really even started my career? I’d feel like a fraud.”
I swallow hard. “That’s going to turn around. I promise you. I’ll do everything in my power to help you succeed. I’ll—I just want to make sure you know I’m here. Even after all of this is over.”
She turns back to me, a haunted look on her face. But then it falls away so fast that I think I might be imagining it. “Thanks. And thanks for taking care of me last night,” she adds, changing the subject. “I’m not sure what would’ve happened if you weren’t there.”
“Might’ve been a messy situation.”
She sighs, shaking her head. “You could say that.”
“On a brighter note. The wedding’s on land. No planes or boats. Just solid ground.”
“That’s a welcome change. But I’d rather the wedding be on a sailboat than have to endure another day of pretending to be a vegetarian.”
“I’ll be sure to sneak you some appetizers. Should we find a drop spot for them?”
She snorts. “A drug deal? I like this idea. I expect a baggy full of appetizers tonight. Prompt delivery.”
“Only if I get prompt payment.”
“A billionaire asking a broke actress for money? Can you get any lower?”
“I’m not asking for money.”
