Page 35 of Baby For The Billionaire Silver Fox

“Just water for me, thanks,” Nicole said as she sat down.

“Remind me why you’re not drinking these days?”

“Oh, I prefer to make bad decisions all on my own, without the aid of alcohol. It’s a change of pace,” she said airily.

I sat down next to her and handed her a glass of water. “I put your water in a wine goblet to add a touch of class.”

She laughed. “I could drink several of these after the salty popcorn.”

“So. Talk to me, Goose. I know I’m being nosy, but what the hell?” she asked with her arms spread out to encompass the room.

“I used to be a financial advisor. A pretty good one. I made lots of money and have invested and reinvested it well.”

“Wow. Where were you located? New York?”

“No, Chicago.”

“You must have the Midas touch. Good to know. Can I come to you for stock advice? No insider trading secrets, of course, just stocks and mutual funds 101 sort of advice.”

“Of course, although I’m no longer in the business.”

“Oh, who am I fooling anyway? I don’t really want to know how to do it. I just want it done for me.”

“Thanks for your honesty. There are services for that,” I chuckled.

Nicole was silent for a minute. “So you were good at it, but did you like it?” she asked.

“Yes. For quite a while, anyway.”

“Then why did you leave?”

“Where’s the dog?” I asked suddenly. I’d totally forgotten about him, I was so wrapped up in Nicole.

“He’s on the floor in the corner over here, sound asleep.”

She slipped off the couch and sat down beside him. She looked him over critically, with a nurse’s eye, and was satisfied with what she saw. “We just need to give him food, water, and affection.”

She stroked his fur lovingly and crooned nonsensical words at him.

I laughed. “Baby talk is apparently not just for babies, but dogs too,” I remarked.

Nicole visibly stiffened.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Sure.”

“Are you going to answer the question I asked before you expertly deflected?” she asked, deflecting my own.

“Let’s leave that for another time. I wouldn’t want to over-share.”

I looked at her, noting the dog had put his head on her lap. She was softly stroking it. “So what happens next with the dog? I asked.

“I want to keep him,” she admitted. “If his owner doesn’t come forward.”

“I’ll ask around, put notices up on NextDoor and the town’s social media page.”

“I’ve never had a dog before. My parents wouldn’t allow it. Or a cat. Or a hamster. Or even a hermit crab.”

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