Page 20 of The Opposite of Romance
“Leo Sterling,” the man next to me says in a deep, gravelly voice.
“Sadie Summers.” I shake his hand, electricity coursing through me.
“The author?”
“Yup. Self-published.”
He presses a hand to his chest like I’ve hurt him. “Youindieauthors tend to play hard to get, don’t you? I’m guessing if I gave you an offer right now, a far too generous one, you’d resist it out of pure spite?”
“It’s called having principles. And why would you give an offer to an author you just heard of?”
“Why do you think I’ve never heard of you? Sadie Summers, with over twenty best-selling novels and a National Writing Award for contemporary romance.”
“Well, my books aren’t looking for a buyer at this time.” I take a sip of my drink because my mouth has suddenly dried out.
“And you? What if I offered to takeyouout? On a date?” His eyes darken, zeroing in on me.
“Umm…”Flirt, Sadie. Flirt, damn it.“Umm, that might be arranged.”
The right side of his lips pulls up into a devilish smirk. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ll be in touch.”
And he’s gone. He hasn’t even taken my number. And he doesn’t come back for the second part of the ceremony.
“Well?” Sandy waits impatiently.
“He asked me out on a date. I think.”
Sandy squeals with delight. “An age gap billionaire. I absolutely love it.”
“Come on. I know he’s rich, but I doubt he’s a billionaire.”
“No one is actually a billionaire.” She waves me off. “It’s a word we use for people who have more money than they could ever spend, so they decide to spend it on lavish presents for their new girlfriend and her sister.”
I suppress a chuckle, but I can’t deny the thrill coursing my veins. He was hot and into me. He also looks like he’d know what he’s doing, and it’s been so fucking long.
We’re on our way back to Ocean’s Harbor when Sandy sticks her nose into her phone. I’m guessing she’s checking up on her baby, but after a minute, she lifts her head, a gleam in her eyes.
“Leo Sterling is 48, never been married, and his net worth is 640 million dollars, meaning he’s closer to being a billionaire than he is to being a millionaire.”
“Fine, we can call him a billionaire.”
“Yes.” She pumps her fist and takes out the folded paper from her purse.
Clicking the pen, she circles ‘age gap,’ and ‘billionaire,’ before sighing loudly. “Ah, being your love doctor is certainly one of the most important roles I’ve had in my life.”
I groan. “Please don’t call yourself my love doctor.”
“A guide, perhaps? A teacher? A person you’d be lost without?”
I pinch her thigh, she smacks my hand and before you know it, we’re both belly laughing.
“I’ve missed you, you know,” she says when we finally settledown.
“What do you mean? We talked to each other every single day.”
“I know, but you were different. You were distant, cold. I can’t remember the last time you laughed like this.” My smile drops, but she continues talking, “I’m just glad to have my sister back, that’s all.”
I don’t talk for the rest of our ride, but I grab her hand and squeeze. She rests her cheek on my shoulder and tears form in my eyes.
