Page 122 of The Billionaire's Fascination

“Maybe not,” she said, but her voice wasn’t strong in certainty.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?”

“Yeah. Dad’s healing and I’m not working right now. We don’t have a set time to return to Wisconsin. If were still here, you can visit us in Texas.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing Dad on a horse.” I laughed, but she didn’t join in. “Mom? Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yeah, just tired, sweetie.” She sighed heavily down the line.

“Where’s Dad?”

“Taking a nap, and I think I will, too. I’ve been running around so much lately. But we’ll talk soon. How was Rome?”

“Oh, Mom. It was absolutely incredible. I have so much to tell you about, but I’m just with Isabelle at the moment.”

“Isabelle?”

“Yeah, from college.”

“That’s great, Nadia. Glad you’re making friends there.”

“Can I catch up with you tomorrow?”

“Oh, not tomorrow. Maybe the day after?”

“Sure.”

“Good. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Thanks, Mom. I love you. Tell Dad I love him.”

“We love you too, honey. Talk to you soon.”

I ended the call and stared at the phone.I miss you.

We stopped by Isabelle’s loft apartment in the West Village after our meal. She already had a sewing section in her large bedroom, complete with a wardrobe of fabric, two sewing machines, and a worktable. “My roommates and I have a noise agreement. Nothing after ten p.m.”

She showed me her most recent design ideas—a fresh perspective on the brand of sixties-inspired mod-style swimsuits. She used ribbed, quilted, and textured fabric to stay consistent with the original styles.

“I was thinking of making the suits more versatile, with an easy swing skirt or jacket.”

I took a sheet and drew the image, adding a web knit. “Or maybe netting here? But maybe we can make it removable for swimming? I have some knit work and sun prints that might make this fun, but it’s back at my place.”

“Oh, that’s clever. Can you show me?”

Isabelle wanted to see the studio.Perhaps I’m being too paranoid.Decidedly, I relented and called David, who was filling in for Ben, for a pickup. To my surprise, Ben pulled up in front of Isabelle’s apartment.

I hugged him. “You’re back from Texas.”

He nodded. “We’re rotating so people won’t recognize the bodyguards.”

I grinned at him. “That’s great, and thank you for looking after my parents. How are they?”

He gave me a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Great, Nadia. Your dad knows a lot of jokes.”

I laughed. “And they are all awful…Oh, Ben, this is Isabelle.”

“Nice to meet you, Isabelle,” Ben said politely.

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