Page 18 of Billionaire Romantic
“Just relax and enjoy it,” Grace says encouragingly. “And who knows? Maybe this one date will lead to something amazing. Or not. But you’ll never know either way until you at least try.”
I sigh, feeling my resistance start to crumble. She’s not wrong. A few hours of escape from my spiraling thoughts does sound sort of nice. And if he looks anything like he does in his photo, it might not be awful to stare at him for an hour or two before I take my leave.
“You can do this, Luck. Just put all the other stuff to the side for one evening and be in the moment. It’s doable. You’ve got this.”
I’ve got this? “What do I wear?”
She thinks about this for a few seconds, then her eyes light up. “That little blue dress you wore to that Heights exhibition we went to a few months ago. It’s sexy as fuck.”
“Do I…wantto look sexy? God, I’m so bad at this.”
“It’s because you don’t do it enough, sweetie. And yes, you absolutely do want to look sexy.” Grace asks gently, “So does this mean you’re ready to accept the date?”
I’m nervous. “Do you really think I should?”
“Ireallythink you should, Lucky Irish.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
I take a deep breath. “Okay. What the hell. Let’s do this.”
I’m still holding Grace’s phone, which has gone dark. She guides my hand, bringing up the screen with the accept button. “You have to push the button. I’m not doing it for you.”
“Here goes nothing.” I do it. I clickAccept Your Date with Noah Steel.
The screen flashes with digital confetti and fireworks. Then an address, the time and the date pops up, along with Noah Steel’s face in a little polaroid with hearts popping around it.
Butterflies erupt in my stomach at the confirmation that this is actually happening, but Grace tops up our champagne. “This will besogood for you, Lucky, you'll see. Remember how it works. If youpretendyou’re about to meet the man of your absolute dreams, it just might turn out that you actually do.”
9
“If I didn’t know betterI’d say you were obsessed.”
I glance up from my phone to see Colton leaning against my office doorway, trademark smirk in place. I set my phone on my desk, screen side down. But the damage is done. He’s already caught me staring at Lucky Irish’s photo.
Again.
I ended up downloading the app and getting Colton to log me in, so I could receive messages in case her plans changed. Or at least that’s what I told him. The real reason I wanted the app on my phone is so I could study her sublime little sunshine-y face when no one was around. She’s just so unbelievably fuckingcute. I didn’t know a person couldbeso flawless. “Just doing some final research before I embark on this date you forced on me,” I bluff.
“Research, huh? Is that what the kids call stalking these days?”
I throw a pen at him, which he deftly catches. “Don’t overthink it, bro.”
“I’m not overthinking it.” Even though I am. I’ve looked up every social media account associated with every variation ofher name, but of course nothing has come up. This one photo and her fake name are all I have. It’s hardly enough to justify my all-consuming fascination. I’ve hardly managed to get any work done at all. “What do you want, Cole? Don’t you have work you’re supposed to be doing?”
“Don’t you?” More smirking, as he wanders into my office. “How many hours to go?”
Four hours and twenty minutes.“I don’t know. A few.”
He laughs. “I thought you might need a pre-date pep talk.”
“From you? No thanks.”
He ignores this. “The trick is to relax and play it cool.”
“Ground-breaking advice from Casanova.”
