Page 75 of Her Billionaire Bargain (Kensington Square)

If Preston’s brows had climbed any higher, he would’ve strained something. “I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. I’ve never even seen you ask a woman for a second date, never mind whatever this is.” He flapped his hand at me. “Here Dad thought you were just drowning at work. Little did he know his baby boy’s in loooove.”

Halfway off the stool, I stared at him. “He’s been talking to you about me again? Why the fuck can’t he speak to me himself if he thinks I can’t handle the business?”

“He doesn’t think you’ll admit it. He’s sure you’ll just go down with the ship á là the violinists on the Titanic.”

“I talked to Eli as you asked me to. You know, to tell him you don’t need help,” Bishop offered. “But he’s not backing down about helping with your overflow. Give him a call. He’ll work something out with you.”

“Yeah, okay.” Much as I wished I could figure this out all on my own, I could put a stop to the imminent slide by reaching out to Bishop’s former associate.

I just needed a damn life raft.

I might even talk to that therapist I’d talked to via Zoom some months ago after I’d gotten my ADHD diagnosis. As soon as he’d mentioned meds, I’d been out of there.

Could be it was time to discuss them again. Just to see. I didn’t have to stay on them if they didn’t work for me. And I could try different ones if necessary. Nothing was a must-do. I could justtry.

My jittering knee bumped the rail around the bar, and I blew out a breath as pain sang through my leg. Yeah, I’d talk to that therapist again. And I’d talk to Eli.

As for talking to my father, I’d probably have to do that soon too. Just not quite yet.

I wanted to get a handle on things myself before I had to lift the white flag. And maybe if Eli came onboard, I wouldn’t even need to.

Redecorating my place was a start toward living my life forme,but it wasn’t actually tackling the main thrust of the problem.

But now that problem overshadowed all the rest, because if I’d screwed things up with Shelby, did the rest even matter?

“I need to sign those damn papers,” I mumbled.

“What papers?” Bishop asked, shifting toward me on his stool.

“The contract to redo my house. I was holding off because I didn’t want her to decide she couldn’t go out with me if I was officially a client. Now I think she’s assuming I’m gonna bail on her. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.” I shoved a hand through my hair and shut my eyes. “I’m making such a mess of things.”

“If she didn’t make you sign those papers the very first thing, she’s operating out of character. She wouldn’t even show us her color samples until we’d signed in triplicate and practically promised our firstborns as collateral.”

“Really? We spent a day together with no discussion of money or anything. She only left then because she had to go pick up her daughter.” My shoulders slumped. “She had a bad dream last night while we were together, and I didn’t get to finish asking her about it. Just everything went off-kilter, and the worst of it is, I miss her. Them. Already. How can that be possible?”

“Oh, it’s very possible. I could barely hang around by myself the morning after April and I spent our first night together. Her absence was like missing an arm.” Bishop tossed back the last of his beer. “Pres, we gotta help him.”

My brother sighed monumentally as if Bishop had just asked him for the favor of his life. “I know.”

“I got this far on my own. Though I don’t know what’s next. If I play it cool, even though the idea of not driving to their house right from here seems all wrong. I don’t want this…bullshitbetween us. I didn’t sleep with some twenty-year-old. Shelby and her daughter need someone they can trust.” I rolled my cool beer bottle over my flaming-hot forehead. I hadn’t imbibed any, but the coolness was coming in handy. Maybe I was getting sick. No wonder I felt feverish. “Not some guy who is after any available chick.”

“To be fair, you used to be that guy,” Pres commented. “Though you left them all smiling, so where was the bad?”

“Iwasn’t smiling. I was—am—lonely as hell. I don’t even have a doormat.”

They shared puzzled glances while my phone went off in my pocket. Isis. I clicked on the call.

“I need your wisdom,” I told her more than a little desperately.

“I’m with the mothers. Yours is wondering why her baby boy hasn’t been to see her lately, or even called. Says every time she texts you, you’re busy. This weekend, she tried three times, and every call went to voicemail.”

“Yeah.” There was no helping my depressed tone. “I did the one thing I was warned against.”

“Onething? I’ve warned you about fifty things in the last month. Did you have another stupid work shindig and let fools wreck your place while you were face down in the punch bowl?”

“No, I did not do that.” Small favors.

“Then?”

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