Page 91 of Don't Fall for the Billionaire
“Fine. We’ll leave.” My mother collected her purse. “I’ll be in touch.”
“See you, son.” My father smirked and then winked.
My blood pressure was at an all-time high, and I needed a drink. Out of nowhere, Charlotte burst into hysterical laughter.
“What is so funny?” I narrowed my eyes at her.
“Them. Your couch. The sex. I’m sorry.” She put her hand up. “You either have to laugh or have a nervous breakdown. The devil and a demon.” She laughed. “The way you stood up to them and emphasized they were in a relationship with other people proves you are nothing like your parents. They don’t have any morals. You do. Let me ask you this. If neither one was in a relationship, would you have gotten so angry?”
I had to think carefully before answering her. “I don’t know. Maybe not as bad. Jesus Christ. I cannot with those two anymore. How can two people who despise each other and go out of their way to make the other miserable have sex like that? I don’t get it, Charlotte.”
“Maybe deep down they don’t despise each other.”
“Right now, I despise them both. And another thing, tomorrow we’re going furniture shopping for a new couch. I will never sit on that couch again.” I pointed.
“What about the blanket that was wrapped around their naked bodies?” Charlotte laughed.
“I’m burning it.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Ashton
I was finally starting to relax after the couple of drinks I threw back.
“Let’s go,” I said.
“Where are we going?”
“Out to dinner. Do you like hibachi?”
“I love hibachi.” She grinned.
“Good. Grab your purse and let’s go. I’ll call for a cab.”
Within minutes, a cab pulled up to the curb and we climbed inside. There was at least a two-hour wait at the restaurant, and I wasn’t happy about it. Sure, we could have gone somewhere else, but I wanted hibachi, and so did Charlotte. Reaching into my wallet, I pulled out a hundred-dollar bill, neatly folded it, and placed it in the palm of the hostess.
“You said there are two spots for us?”
She looked at the bill in her hand and then up at me. “Yes, sir. Follow me.” She smiled.
“Show off.” Charlotte smirked.
We enjoyed the fantastic show and meal. Our chef was one of the best I’d ever seen. I glanced at Charlotte as she held aconversation with the woman sitting next to her. Her voice, her laugh, just everything about her made me happy. Being with her made me happy. And I wasn’t talking about sex. It was the small things. Sharing coffee with her in the mornings, helping her make pies, and talking about our days when I got home from work. It was also the way she loved Eloise, made it known, and the way she wanted to protect my daughter at all costs.
I paid the bill, and we headed home. My heart raced with nervousness when we stepped inside. It could have been PTSD from what we walked into earlier, but I knew exactly what it was.
“Charlotte, we need to talk.” I walked over and poured myself a scotch. “Can I pour you a drink?”
“I’ll just have what you’re having.”
I handed her a glass of scotch and then turned on the fireplace.
“Let’s sit on the rug by the fire because I’m surely not sitting on that couch.”
She laughed and sat on the rug.
Sitting beside her, I inhaled a sharp breath.
