Page 194 of The Elusive Billionaire
“Dr. Collins would disagree,” I grumble, but not wanting to put a damper on the afternoon, I put my feelings on the matter aside. “Your turn. What’s your news?”
Her gaze dances around my face—nerves have her plucking at nonexistent lint on her sweatshirt.
“Baby, what’s wrong?”
“Wrong?” she squeaks out the word. “Nothing’s wrong. Here, Betty made you some meatloaf at the diner.”
I frown as she pulls out a Styrofoam container from the basket that sits at her side. I take it, attempting to hide a grimace. I hate meatloaf.
My brows dip into my hairline when her tinkling laughter comes next.
“Oh, you big baby. It’s a joke. It’s a BLT on wheat, light on the mayo, just like you like.”
“I’m confused,” I admit. “Why are you teasing me about meatloaf?”
“Because you said once that meatloaf at the diner wouldn’t cut it for our first date.”
Unease settles into my shoulders. “I do remember saying that, but we’re well past firsts, don’t you think?”
“Most of them,” she whispers. When she brings her thumb to her mouth to chew on her nail, I hit my limit for bullshit.
“Monroe,” I bite out. “You haven’t bitten your nails in six months. What has you all tied up into knots?”
She drops her hand from her mouth and scoffs. She still hates that I know all her tells.
“What is it, Savvy?”
“It’s a lot, actually.”
Just spit it out, sweetheart. I’m starting to sweat through my suit, and it’s not a pretty look.
“I can handle it.” I say to assure her, while silently hoping that I can.
“Well, Valen told me that the DeVanes and Ashfords are having some…money trouble in their casino’s. Do you happen to know anything about that?”
Yes.
“I’ve stayed out of that just as you asked.”
“Right. But your new BFF Roman, did he have anything to do with that?”
I shrug and work to control the twitch of my eyebrow that would alert her to my partial lie. I can’t help it that Roman felt so guilty about Savvy’s accident that he told me he would handle the other families.
I’m only pissed it’s taken him an entire year to bring it to fruition.
“I’m not Roman’s keeper, but he did mention that there might be some…unrest in Vegas. That’s all I know.” And it’s the truth.
“Right, well, that brings me to my next bit of news. I picked a date.”
I drop the water I had only just lifted from the table, and it spills all over my sandwich.
“You…did?” I ask cautiously. “A date for…”
She nods twice. “Our wedding.” She’s been putting it off until she felt she was in a good place with Dr. Collins, which I fully supported. I haven’t even pushed her once since I asked her to marry me in front of half the town.
I guess it helps that legally we’re already married.
Freaking Pops still hums the song “Fireflies” every time he sees me though.
