Page 144 of The Billionaire's Baby
I laugh. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."
"Sure, you do." He chuckles. "You just don’t want to admit it to yourself."
"Gee, thanks for the words of wisdom," I mutter, "but no, thanks."
I rummage around in my purse, pull out a few notes, then drop them into his hat. He doesn’t even look at it. Weird.
"Now, a cigarette, pretty lady? I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to that."
I glance up and down the street. There’s no shop in sight. "Why don't you take the money and buy the cigarettes?"
He stares at me and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "Fine, fine. I’ll get some for you on my way back."
"I may not be here then."
"Oh?" I frown. "Where will you be?"
"Here today, gone tomorrow, unlike the love in your eyes, for him."
"Love?" I gape at him. "I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about."
"That’s what he said too." He gestures to the signboard he’s holding up.
When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.
"Cheerful," I grimace. "Personally, I prefer Pushkin."
"I loved you, and I probably still do…" he recites.
"And for a while the feeling may remain." I smile.
"But let my love no longer trouble you," he tilts his head.
"I do not wish to cause you any pain." I toss my hair over my shoulder. Shit, why does that feel…so evocative…so telling, about my current circumstances? Why the hell does the romance in the words remind me of the douchebag I’d decided to break up with? Now wait, I’d never been with him, so we hadn’t broken up. Besides, we’re just taking a break from each other. That’s all, right? I mean, I’d told him to back off… Okay, I’d made him promise to stay away, and apparently, he is doing so.
Bastard.When has he ever listened to what I’ve asked of him? Never. That’s the correct answer. And this time he had turned and left… Okay, technically, he’d told me to leave… Still, I hadn’t thought he’d adhere to his promise, considering he hadn’t told me outright that he would. And if he hadn’t, I’d be mad at him for not leaving me alone. Classic case of, damned if you do, damned if you don’t. And now, I am making excuses on his behalf. I really needed to have my head examined.
"Aren’t you getting late?" homeless guy asks.
I glance down at him, then back to my car. "Yeah," I huff out a breath, "I am."
"Best be getting along then."
I glance at my watch and wince. I am running late. I head for the car, then turn to him, "Will you be here when I return?"
"Take your chances; live dangerously."
I blink. Why do his words remind me of how the rest of the Seven converse with each other? All the talk about pregnancy and babies, must be getting to me. It's the only reason I'd stopped long enough to have a stream of consciousness conversation with a complete stranger.
I close the distance to my car, get into it and pull away from the curb. I make it to Soho and manage to find a parking spot. Hallelujah. I can see why Londoners prefer the Tube, but hell, if I am going to commute packed into the underground. And no, I don’t like being driven around either. Why should I, when I love driving my car? I park and head for the restaurant for my lunch date.
I walk through the buzzing tables toward the back. Niko glances at me from his seat at the corner table. Of course, he has the best seat in the house. Nothing but the best for my family, and I admit, I get my good taste in food, in clothes… In men…? Not that…but everything else, going for the top-of-the-line expensive shit. Yeah, that’s my father and brothers for you.
