Page 71 of Billionaire's Matchmaker

“I’m not sure about any of it. Getting married.” She paused. “Or the Zeta Society.”

“Rafe’s offering you an opportunity to see for yourself.”

In the corner, the Colonel finished eating and started dipping one paw into her water bowl and licking the drops away. The distraction gave Hope a moment to figure out what was bothering her. “Did he suggest you call me?”

“Darling, I don’t allow myself to be manipulated.”

Because she trusted Celeste’s answer, Hope confided her greatest fear. “I’m scared, Celeste.”

“Because of your father? Your mother’s inability to move on?” As always, her mentor filled in the blanks of what Hope had left out. “You are much stronger than Cynthia. I’m not one to meddle—”

Much.

“You’ve closed yourself off. In fact, I’m not sure you’ve ever allowed anyone inside your little clamshell.”

As they spoke, Hope paced, and the Colonel glared at her, as if her peace were being disturbed. “There’s the whole submission thing too.”

“Life is filled with risks. Adapt and overcome.”

Hope sighed at her mentor’s signature phrase.

“Perhaps I’ll see you this weekend?”

Hope gave a noncommittal answer before ending the call.

Rafe’s dinner invitation was still on her phone’s screen, waiting for her answer. Yet she couldn’t give it.

Her phone chimed again.

Where’s my latte?

Realizing she’d taken over an hour when she’d given herself thirty minutes, Hope hurried to dress and head out.

She arrived at work and jerked to a halt when she walked in the door. The biggest bouquet of flowers that she’d ever seen sat on Skyler’s desk. The arrangement was so tall that Hope couldn’t see her assistant behind it. “Hello?”

“Coffee!” Skyler popped up with her hand extended. Zombielike, she headed for the tray bearing the lattes.

“Wait!” Hope cautioned. If Skyler plucked out a cup, the other two might become unbalanced. In silent offering, she placed the gifts on the edge of Skyler’s desk.

“Did I hear coffee?” Tony shouted.

“And doughnuts,” Hope responded.

“I don’t eat doughnuts.” His phone rang, and he lowered his voice as he answered it.

Hope waited until Skyler had taken a few sips before asking, “Who sent you flowers?”

“They’re not mine.”

“Oh?”

“More for you. I’ll have you know I didn’t read the card. I was dying to, but I didn’t.”

Hope took in the colors and the size of the bouquet. It was amazing the thing didn’t topple over. Her fingers itched with the need to pluck the small envelope from the plastic stem it was attached to.

Before she could decide what to do with the flowers, a second delivery arrived. “No. No, no, no.”

“I need someone to sign for these.”

Skyler put down her cup to accept the vase.

Hope frowned at the sight of Skyler’s name on the screen of his electronic device. Perplexed, she glanced up. “Those are for you,” she told her assistant.

“Me? This is my lucky day!” As if part of a conga line, she chanted out, “Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah,” as she danced around. Then she gave a small kick before grabbing the envelope. Rather than lift the flap, she tore off the end. “Oh my God. They’re from Rafe!”

“From…?”

“It says ‘Thank you for all the hard work to make the mixer successful. Prestige is lucky to have you.’”

The bastard. When the man played to win, he didn’t play fair.

The deliveryman cleared his throat. “You need to sign for them.”

Jolted, she scrawled her name with the stylus. Then she reached into her kitty purse for tip money. “Thank you.”

With a nod, the man left.

“They’re beautiful! Aren’t they? I wish all our clients were like him.”

Wasn’t it just a few days ago that Skyler thought he was a pain in the ass? And just yesterday that she’d confronted him, then hesitated before leaving Hope alone with him?

Tony emerged from his office. “What’s all the fuss?”

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