Page 24 of Adonis: The Cost of a Billionaire's Heart
“No need to apologize. That’s always been my nickname, so it felt genuine.”
“Really?” she inquired while making her way to the pantry. “You don’t strike me as the kind of man who prefers to be called anything but his full name.”
“And why is that?”
“It’s too powerful not to say the full thing—Adonis Holland.”
“Say my name again,” I commanded softly, omitting the fact that I enjoyed hearing my name fall off her tongue.
She paused before slowly turning to face me, eyes lifting to hold my gaze. “Oh, um—Adonis Holland.”
“You’re right,” I agreed, flashing her my billion-dollar smile. “It is powerful.”
She was right, though. Everybody around me, from business partners to employees, had always called me by my government name. Only the closest people to me called me D or Donny.
Sim returned the smile before marching over to the kitchen island to start on the pancake batter. “Told you,” she teased. “How was your workout?”
“Productive.”
“Mm-hmm. Smells that way too.” She snickered, joking me.
I chuckled. “Shut up. I’m going to hit the shower. Let me know when breakfast is ready.”
We arrived at Greystone just before eight, feeling the light breeze of the early September morning air that smelled of freshly cut grass. Ellis and his wife were already on the green, ready to greet us, along with a few members of his board. There were only a handful of workers around, only out of necessity to keep things running smoothly during our visit.
Simora stood at my side, looking like an expensive work of art even in the casual outfit she had on. We hadn’t said more than a few words to each other on the drive over. I was too stuck in my head, running through different scenarios of how the morning would unfold, but I noticed the way she observed her surroundings, soaking up everything like a sponge. Then, out of nowhere, she gasped.
I jerked my neck in her direction. “What is it?”
“The engagement ring. I left it back at the penthouse,” she whispered, so as not to let Ellis and Jeanine overhear her.
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. We’re supposed to be newly engaged. What newly engaged woman forgets her very beautiful, very expensive ring at home? Most women probably wouldn’t even take it off. I’m so stupid. I never should’ve taken it off my finger to do the dishes after breakfast.”
“You washed the dishes?”
“Well, I rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher. I didn’t want to leave a mess,” she answered timidly.
“Sim, you’re my fiancée, whether that twenty-thousand-dollar ring is on your finger or not. Don’t stress about that shit. As long as we’re together, you’re good.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. And I don’t want to hear about you washing another dish in my house this week. I pay people to do those things for me, which means you don’t have to,” I explained as we approached Ellis.
He reached out and firmly shook my hand. “Morning, Holland crew,” he greeted us. “Glad you all could make it.”
Ellis turned his attention to Simora to greet her before glancing down at Mason, who was firmly gripping her right hand and slightly hiding behind her leg. “And this must be the special young man. What’s your name, son?”
Simora gently nudged him, silently encouraging him to speak up and say his name. “Mason,” he answered.
“Hi, Mason. I’m Mr. Garrick, and this is my wife, Mrs. Garrick, but you can call us Mr. and Mrs. G. for short.”
“Hi,” Mason replied shyly.
“We’re about to start a round of golf. Would you like to take a ride on my cart?”
The sound of something adventurous instantly made him come out of his shell. He stepped out from behind Simora and looked up at her for permission. “Can I, Mommy? Can I drive the golf cart?” he quizzed, his brown eyes lit up with excitement.
