Page 76 of Christmas with the Denton Billionaires

He didn’t even want to imagine Jules’s disappointment in that choice. Nor did he want to entertain even the thought of an evening like that.

He needed to wrap things up here and now, before Jules declared him a lost cause and totally useless foster dad.

“I need to get back upstairs,” Mitch said.

“Would you like some company?” She trailed her fingers down his arm as she practically purred.

Taking her hand, he placed it back on the bar. “Sara, I thought you came to talk business?”

“Oh, come on, Mitch! You know the investment is in the bag. If I’d had any questions, I would have called you during office hours.” She went to touch him again, but stopped when she saw the look on his face. She frowned briefly, before her expression morphed into something more sexual. “We’ve been dancing around this attraction to each other for years. Don’t you think we should act on it? I know it would make our fathers happy.”

A sigh escaped him. Mitch fished his phone out of his pocket, intent on calling for a car to take Sara wherever she wanted to go, so long as it was away from him. As he swiped the screen on, he realized he’d missed four calls and several texts. He stopped breathing for a moment, fearful he’d missed something urgent, since his phone had been on Do Not Disturb.

Jules had sent three texts:“Hey are you busy I really need you to come up here”; “Are you getting any of my texts or calls?”; and then, “Never mind. I don’t need your help.”

“Excuse me,” Mitch said, sliding off his stool. “I need to return this call real quick.” He stepped toward the front of the bar as he called Jules, counting the seconds until she picked up. It clicked over to voicemail, but a text from her arrived almost simultaneously.

“Going to bed. Everything’s fine.”

That was a relief, at least. But he still needed to get out of here. His phone pinged again and he checked the message, surprised to see it was from his dad.

“I know you’re meeting with Sara Osterman. Don’t disappoint me, son. We need their investment if we’re going to break ground on the Colorado properties in spring.”

Blowing out a breath on a huff, he returned to his post at the bar, where Sara waited for an answer.

“So what do you say?” Her eyebrow arched. “At least have dinner with me and we can tell our fathers that we actually talked business and we can close this deal.”

His father’s demands cycled through him as he looked down at her hopeful eyes. She’d said it herself—this was the route to closing this deal. A lot was riding on Osterman Investments funding the new project that his father had managed to snatch out from under Colin Forest. Including his potential next role as the head of Denton Hotels.

“I’ll go to dinner,” Mitch finally conceded, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Going to dinner didn’t equate to going to a club.

He could still seal the deal and get home at a decent hour. And wasn’t that the definition of the work-life balance?

Still, he couldn’t shake the gnawing sensation as he accompanied Sara out of the bar. Something was off. He just couldn’t tell what.

18

JULES

Jules stood staring down at Noelle, finally sleeping peacefully in her crib, for what felt like an hour. Even though she’d buried the alarm under five pillows in Mitch’s bedroom and shut the door—an appropriate present for him to come home to—she could still hear the shrill ring in her memory.

Damn that thing. But maybe she should be grateful for it.

Because that annoying little device had jostled her out of this crazy reverie in which she and Mitch were heading for something big and back down to reality.

Jules heaved a sigh, finally turning from Noelle and heading for the living room. Even though she had plenty of work to do and plenty of sleep to catch up on, she would be doing neither of those things.

No, right now, she needed to call her mom.

The phone was ringing before she even sank into the couch. Her mom picked up on the third ring.

“Honey!” she exclaimed. The familiar rasp of her voice made Jules smile. However difficult her childhood had been with her hypercritical mother, she was the only mom she had. And sometimes, Jules needed her.

“Hi, Mom.” She sighed, wondering where to begin. “You got a minute?”

“Of course I do. I was just sitting down to watchGrey’s Anatomy.”

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