Page 22 of One Night Billionaire

Anna washed her face and brushed her teeth, and contemplated the man in her bed. She wasn’t upset that he was here or that he had gotten in bed with her. None of that bothered her.

What did bother her was the fact that he was still her boss. As much as he said he didn’t care and she truly believed him, she couldn’t let it go, yet.

Ready to face him again, she opened the door to the bathroom. Instead of returning to the bedroom, she wandered into her kitchen, where the smell of coffee and sausage lured her.

Brian was in her kitchen. His white shirt he’d arrived in yesterday was unbuttoned halfway and wrinkled beyond hope. The pants, too, were wrinkled and she noted the lack of his belt, wondering where that had gotten to.

He was standing in his socks, moving around her tiny kitchen, and making them breakfast. As he turned again, he locked eyes with her and grinned.

“Coffee?” he asked.

“Please,” she nodded.

“I assume creamer based on the contents of your refrigerator. Anything else?”

She shook her head. “More creamer than coffee.”

Brian looked between her and the cup as though trying to decide if she was joking. He decided she wasn’t and poured the creamer into the coffee until it turned a pale color. Smart man, she wasn’t kidding.

Coffee was awful but a necessity to get through her day. If she was going to have to drink it, then it was going to at least be somewhat palatable.

“You know that creamer is mostly oil, right?” Brian asked.

Anna snorted. “You say that like I care.”

“Ah. My mistake.” Brian went back to the stove.

“Is that a deal breaker?” she joked.

“I think I can let that one slide,” Brian said without turning around.

“Good thing. If you had stuck to that point, it might have been a deal breaker to me,” she said as she sipped her mug.

In the next minute, Brian placed a plate of eggs and sausage in front of her and was carrying his plate over to the tiny kitchen table. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had made her breakfast outside of handing her the yogurt she wanted.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice a little wobblier than she expected.

“Are you okay?” Brian immediately asked. “These were all in your fridge so I assumed you ate them. If you don’t like it, we can go get something, or I can order, or—“

She cut him off. “I’m good. This is incredibly nice. Thank you.” Anna reached across the table and squeezed his hand.

“Okay. You sounded upset,” Brian said.

“It was just unexpectedly nice,” she assured him.

Brian smiled and they ate their breakfast mostly in silence. It wasn’t weird or uncomfortable, just two people quietly eating and lost in their thoughts.

“I’ll clean up,” she said, carrying her plate to the sink.

“You sure? I don’t mind.”

“You cooked; I clean. That’s the deal.”

“I’m going to go freshen up a bit,” he told her.

“There’s an extra toothbrush under the sink,” she called out after him.

Thankfully just last week, there had been a sale on them, and she’d picked up two instead of one. She never had extras.

---