Page 137 of The Elusive Billionaire
“What just happened?” I press a fist into my lower belly, hoping the pressure will stop the bleed.
“Well, Greyson Reyes.” Clover’s voice is more confident than I’ve ever heard her. “What happened is that you just described Savvy’s perfect date, right down to the ‘pale-pink champagne’ and hammock.”
“What?” I frown as a headache grows behind my eyes.
“We’ve known Savvy a long time,” Madi says. “We’ve done a lot of dreaming together over the years. Right down to our perfect dates, perfect first kisses, and our perfect happily ever afters. You, my friend, just described her fairy tale.”
My ribs fall into the back of the chair, jump-kicking my lungs into action as though they forgot their only purpose was to pump oxygen to my limbs.
“You know her, Grey.” Clover’s smile is kind and genuine. It makes me hate whatever happened in her past to make her feelas though she has to guard every piece of herself even more than I already did.
“I agree,” Madi says with a small frown. When she looks at me, I find guilt swimming in her irises. “You might know her better than anyone.”
“I want to,” I say. I want to be the man she deserves, and I’m beginning to realize that Moose was right. I can’t do this on my own. “Will you help me?” My focus shifts to the door Savvy walked through—away from me.
Asking for help isn’t easy for me. I don’t even remember the last time I did it, but then again, I don’t remember a time when anything felt as important to my future as Savvy Monroe does.
“Yes,” Clover says.
“What do you need?” Madi is more cautious, but I don’t blame her.
“You said you know all her perfect firsts? Dates, kisses, happily ever after? Tell me how to make them all come true.”
“Mr. Fix-It has a Prince Charming complex too. Who would’ve thunk it?” Slowly, a smile spreads on Madi’s face.
“Not me, that’s for damn sure.” I can’t tear my attention away from the door. “But here I am, at your mercy to get the girl.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
SAVVY
“Canyou believe she has both of them fighting over her? Her, of all people. She’s not even that pretty, and she’s damn sure not special.”
Why are public restrooms breeding grounds for mean girl shit? Someday women will learn to eradicate this nasty cliché.
Flushing the toilet, I step out of the stall and come face-to-face with Bethany and her crony, Amelie.
Amelie immediately stares at the floor and fidgets with the strap of her purse. “So, um. I’ll see y’all around.” She spins and nearly sprints out of the restroom of Blissful Beans & Leaves.
I just wanted a freaking coffee. Is that too much to ask for?
Without saying a word, I cross the small space to wash my hands while Bethany glares at me. Today she’s wearing a Gucci shift dress from last summer’s collection. One thing growing up as the poor girl surrounded by unimaginable wealth taught me was how to spot a deal so I could fit in. This dress has giant G’s interconnecting across the cornflower-blue fabric, and I’ve seen this particular style on resale threads for almost six months.
“What do they even see in you?” She spits. Actually spits. Spittle flies from her lips, and her eyes are crazed. She remindsme of a less macabre version of a zombie…maybe a vampire…some kind of monster anyway.
I sigh obnoxiously loudly. “You’ll have to be more specific, Bethany. I know a lot of people.”
“Slut.” Her scoff reeks of jealousy.
Waving my hand in front of the machine, I wait patiently for the paper towel to dispense, then do it again before ripping it off and turning to face her.
“I’m a lot of things, Bethy, but a slut is not one of them. I’m also a girl’s girl. That means I put women before men, always.” She stares blankly at me. “Let me rephrase that more clearly—I support women. I would never tear someone down because their beliefs don’t align with my own. That, apparently, is one of our many differences. Now, is there anything else you’d like to hurl my way, or are you done? I’m sure Riley’s waiting for you to do his dirty work somewhere, so I wouldn’t want to keep you from your underhanded bullshit.” I plaster on a saccharine smile that only irritates her more.
“Riley who?” Her left eye twitches.
“Don’t ever play poker, Bethany. You can’t lie for shit.”
“What do they see in you?” Her whine is nearing desperation.
