Page 8 of Enticing My Off Limits Billionaire

I'm glad people appreciate my business savvy, sure.

I just wish it didn't derail what I actually want to do.

I go to unlock the door, but I'm surprised to find that it's already open when I turn the key. I'm even more surprised when, upon opening it, I find someone I haven't seen in years.

"Delia?"

My old college friend looks up from where she's leaning against my desk, her eyes on her phone. A smile breaks out when she sees me, crow's feet where I've always seen smile lines, her hair graying in a few spots. I take a step forward for a handshake, but she hugs me instead, and I can't stop the grin from spreading across my face.

"We don't shake hands after everything we've been through," she laughs as she pulls away. "Quinn—it's great to see you."

"It really is," I tell her. "And a surprise—how the hell did you get in here?"

"The building manager let me in because she recognized me," she says sheepishly. "I told her I would just wait for you, but she insisted."

"Recognized you?" I echo. "Wow...somebody's moving up in the world."

"Only in certain circles," she chuckles. She's dressed in a smart blazer, but she's decked out in silver and bronze jewelry, looking every bit the hippie artist. "If they've been to my theatre up in Mass, they've probably seen me there, haunting the place, being generally spooky..."

"Right," I snort, then gesture at a couple of chairs. "Here…take a seat."

I pull my desk chair out to face her, and she takes a seat in the armchair in the corner. I don't really have the place set up for guests—it's only for my personal use and the occasional meeting—but it works for an old friend.

"So, what brings you all the way to the city?" I ask. "I thought you hated New York."

"I do hate New York," she says. "But I'm working on something and thought you would be the perfect person for the job."

"Is that so?"

She nods. "We're doing an immersive production of Much Ado...and we need a new space."

My brows rise as I take in what she's just told me. "Much Ado—my favorite," I tell her. "But you already knew that."

"I did," she says. "If I remember correctly, we did our own adaptation for our capstone at NYU; what was it...twenty years ago?"

"Don't remind me," I shake my head. "Yeah—of course I remember. But you don't want to do it in Salem?"

"I have investors on board, but they want the production in the city," she says. "I told them I'm bringing you in as producer—and that you would help us secure a space."

"Talk to me," I say. "What are the specs?"

She starts to go through a laundry list of all the things she wants for her show, and I stand up to grab a notebook and jot everything down. When Delia is done, I blow out a breath as I examine the list, shaking my head slowly.

"Yeah...I can't think of a space that would work."

"That's kind of the point," she says. "I want to establish a new theatre—somewhere we make the rules. A kind of New Salem Collective here in the city, but with both of us in charge."

I have to do a double-take. "So you're not just here to hire a producer."

"I'm here to make something new," she nods. "Think about it, Quinn…we could do this. We're at points in our careers where we could make some waves in the community, where we've got enough rep to pull it off. Consider the possibilities."

"I'm considering them," I nod along with her. "Don't get me wrong…I'm tempted."

"I don't want you tempted," she says. "I want you to say yes."

I chew on my lower lip, trying to weigh the pros and cons. It's a big ask to establish a new theatre, but...I can't deny that the idea is tempting. The thought of being my own boss, creating something from scratch with an old friend I know for a fact, is brilliant...I can't help but feel excited at the prospect.

"I don't know," I say finally. "It's a lot to think about."

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