Page 5 of The Next Door Billionaire's Deception

“She’s a nun. You guys will hit it off together.”

I nearly choke on my drink. Celine throws her head back and laughs. I give her a fake scornful look.

“Point taken.”

She nudges my shoulder. “Geez, live a little. Allow yourself to bask in the beauty of art.”

Rising from my seat, I move around the couch to lean against the headrest. The painting seems to shimmer under the light.

“Right now, the only beauty I enjoy is the beauty of art.”

“Hmm.” Celine joins me, shooting me a knowing look. She knows the drill: a change of subject means: I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I’ve always wondered how you manage to find the most meaningful art.”

I heave a sigh, relieved that she let the matter slide.

“Not particularly. I simply go for pieces that hold beauty and a message.”

“Beauty and a message,” she repeats. “That’s deeper than I thought.”

“Her Pridepreaches the courage and civility of a White-skinned woman—regardless of wherever she finds herself. It showcases her endowment through the paintbrush of an artist.” I pause and let her have yet another close look.

Celine beams. “Gosh, I love it when you talk art.”

“Beauty can’t hide.”

She smiles. Her eyes glow with an intense shimmer as she keeps her gaze on my face.

“But beauty can be ignored, Lissa,” she says softly. The smile on her face has vanished, meaning she's up to something I may not like.

I empty my glass and head for the fridge. Celine refills her glass. She’s silent for a while, and that’s a sure sign that she wants to have the conversation I'm always unready to discuss.

“You’re now in a comfortable new place, Lissa,” she says, raising her eyes to mine. “You should try something new.”

I shrug. “That's why I got a new painting and a few other pieces of furniture. Have you seen my other new things?”

“Don't do that. Do not attempt to trivialize this.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I love the new apartment. I love the nice furniture. I love the artwork. But this conversation isn't about furniture and fittings and art, Lissa. You know where I'm driving at.”

“No-no-no. Not again. How is that even possible?”

“You know what I'm talking about.”

“I do not, and when you're ready to share, it better be meaningful.”

The tempo of the conversation moves into a downward spiral. Whatever she wants to talk about, she’s seen a glimpse of the sign that it might not be something I'd love to discuss. I love Celine. But, sometimes, she can be a hot lump in my throat. She wants me to consider things that are inconsiderable as long as my personality is concerned. In many instances, she wins. But, in this new apartment, I stand my ground.

She places her glass on the glass-topped center table and slowly moves to my seat. Then, she fakes a smile, but the frown on my face refuses to leave. She crashes her frame into the space beside me and wraps her hand across my neck.

“I have a feeling I won’t like what you’re about to say.”

“That’s right: you won’t. Beauty can’t hide, Lissa. You said it yourself. You’re a beautiful woman, and I'm excited that you've finally agreed to give yourself another chance to start something new by moving to this beautiful part of the city,” she pauses and gives me a weird look I find eccentric. “But you can take it a step further.”

“Celine –”

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