Page 24 of Single Dad Billionaire Boss

“My translator helped me pick that one out at a toy shop,” I said. “I was carrying around an ugly pink plushy that I thought was a fish. Come to find out, it was not a fish.”

“What was it?”

I swallowed and averted my eyes. “The humor of it doesn’t translate well. The shop had all kinds of Pokémon toys and whatnot, but also some items that were… well, let’s just say for people a lot older than Zoe.”

Ella tried to suppress a smile. “Oh,” she said dramatically. “I’m really glad you didn’t buy that one.”

“Yeah, so I opted for Fatty Chicken over there.”

“So, you had a traumatic toy shopping experience in Singapore, huh?”

“Mainly, I fueled the stereotype that American tourists act like idiots. Wasn’t nearly as embarrassing as when I tried one of the contractor’s chips.”

“Too spicy?”

“Salted fish skins,” I said, wincing. “They were fish skins!”

“That would be a bad surprise. Please don’t put any in Zoe’s stocking.”

“I won’t. I got her a jar of kaya and some ondeh-ondeh.”

“Is kaya the coconut jam stuff?” she asked, and I nodded. “It was good. We had some on toast because Zoe said that’s how you eat it.”

“I think Fatty Chicken is gonna fall,” I said, nodding at the stack of books.

“Its bottom is too round, the poor thing,” Ella said, propping one of the books behind it. Then she picked up a bright pink dress embroidered with flowers.

“That’s from a Balinese work collective,” I said. “I managed not to embarrass myself in the children’s store, which was a surprise since I was carrying that chicken blob the whole time.”

“Singapore sounds amazing,” Ella said. “I’ve never been anywhere. My dream trip has always been to Italy, but when I looked up Singapore to show Zoe where you’d be, it made me want to go there too and eat a bunch of white noodles and fish cakes.”

“Char kuay teow,” I said. “It’s great, but the Hokkien noodles with prawns, I ate that twice a day. I plan on taking Zoe after school is out. She wants to see the new store, and there are places in the city I want to show her.”

Ella reached for a shopping bag before I could stop her and peered inside. “Oh, here’s the kaya and—”

I snatched in a breath. “No,” I blurted. “That’s just a few more things for Zoe and—”

“Me,” Ella said, her dark eyes warm and affectionate. Something fluttered in my stomach as I held her gaze, then I swallowed again and took the bag from her.

“I’ll handle those,” I muttered. “Thank you.”

Ella smiled. “You know, you’re sweet, Jacob Sanders. Even though you do your best to hide it.” Ella got to her feet and bent over me. “Good night,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss my cheek, but I backed away from her before she could connect.

Confusion, then hurt, played across her face. Ella hurried upstairs and left me sitting there alone on the sofa staring down into the bag of small, thoughtful presents I had bought for her. Evidence against me, I thought, no matter how hard I tried to deny my feelings for Ella Clark.

Chapter13

13

Ella

For some women,it’s red roses or chocolate truffles. For me, it was East Asian stationery. I had opened the bag to wrap whatever was inside, and besides the jar of jam, I spied a pile of cute office supplies. There was also a cylinder covered in lilac-colored sticky notes and a journal with cherry blossoms scattered across the cover. I had wanted to dig in with both hands and examine it all like some gleeful little miser with my gold, but then Jacob stopped me,

When it came to romance, for me, it was all about being understood. Jacob knew how much I would love an adorable roll of purple paper and stickers of happy dumplings. It revealed an intimacy that made my cheeks flush as I sat on my bed trying to pet Gus, who wanted no part of me. Just like Jacob pretended to want no part of me when I went to kiss him on the cheek. He had wanted me to kiss him. I saw it in his eyes. But he was scared.

Jacob was arrogant with everyone but Zoe. He was financially generous but emotionally stingy. He had opened himself up to me and knew me well enough to choose the perfect presents. I turned the memory of my attempted kiss over and over until it was smooth as a stone, wonder and disbelief settling over me. If I had revealed too much by running into his arms when he arrived, he had shown his cards as well, however accidentally. We had to talk about this. Not at one o’clock on Christmas morning, I told myself, but soon. This was complicated and scary because the stakes were high. I couldn’t open that gift in a few hours and act like the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for me was nothing.

The next morning, I got up at six, put on a jacket over my pajamas, and hurried out to the car to get the presents I had forgotten to bring in yesterday. As soon as I stepped outside, my sneakers were soaked. A biting whirl of snow pelted my face as I squinted and clutched my jacket around me. With shuffling steps, I tried to see my car in the near-whiteout conditions. And I would have walked right past it had I not stumbled and reached out to break my fall. Luckily, my hand landed on the passenger-side door handle. I opened the door and quickly gathered up my bag of packages. Hunched and shivering, I headed back toward the house, but I could not see the front door—only a dim light up ahead. Above the roar of the wind, I could hear the unmistakable sound of Jacob shouting at me. I moved toward his voice and was seized by both arms and hauled inside.

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