Page 13 of No More Billionaires

That got my attention. I straightened, waiting wide-eyed and heart fluttering as he continued.

“Why’d you go out withthatguy anyway?”

I shrugged, feeling cornered and put-on-the-spot. “Why not? He’s nice. He’s funny. He asked.”

“You’re so far out of his league you’re barely the same species.”

I blinked. “What? That’s not very nice.”

“Well, if you’re ready to date again, maybe you should go out with someone who’s a little more—”

Oh God.

“I’m not,” I blurted, standing up and grabbing my purse. “Not ready. Jason and I went out as friends, actually.”

Backing away from Larson, I moved in the general direction of the newsroom doorway.

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow. Nice show tonight. Have a good night. Okay, bye.”

Babble much, Kenley?

I whirled around and did everything I could to keep myself from running toward the hallway.

* * *

“So what’s it like working with Larson Overstreet?”

My friend Mara had called during my long, slow commute home. We’d only spoken once since her wedding to her high school sweetheart two months ago. They’d taken a long-dreamed-of honeymoon to Australia and stayed a month.

“Fine, I guess.” I wasn’t eager to discuss the guy I’d just basically fled in terror of thirty minutes earlier.

“Is he as cute in person? Because he’s a total hottie on TV.”

“You just have a thing for billionaires,” I accused her.

The high school sweetheart I mentioned? During their separation, Reid Mancini had founded StillYours.com, which had displaced Facebook as the world’s most-used social network.

It had helped reunite thousands of couples, maybe millions, but his sole purpose in creating it was to get Mara back.

She’d resisted him basically all the way to the altar. But when you saw them together, it was obvious they were crazy in love.

Their wedding at his estate in Eastport Bay, Rhode Island had been gorgeous, though a little painful for me, as it had come only weeks after Mark broke off our engagement.

“Hey, don’t knock a boy just because he’s got money,” Mara said. “And rich or poor, Larson is pretty tasty. He’d make an excellent himbo if it weren’t for the Ivy League degree.”

“Well, you’re not on the himbo-hunt anymore.”

While she and Reid were apart, she’d developed quite a reputation for her choice in men—himbos—gorgeous but brainless guys who never tempted her to commit.

“Don’t you have your hands full now, Mrs. Mancini?”

“And then some. Reid’s determined to make up for lost time, I think—I could barely walk when I first got home from our honeymoon.”

I cringed and laughed simultaneously. Mara said the most embarrassing things—but at least you always knew she’d shoot straight with you.

“So how was Australia? Did you love it?”

“It was paradise—I’ll send pictures. But I want to hear about Larson. Am I imagining it, or do you keep changing the subject on me?”

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