Page 129 of Billionaire Romance

14

Sinclair

Shit. The pie is burning. I race toward the kitchen, glass of wine in hand, and reach the stove just in time to open the oven and remove the concoction I’ve worked all day on. Margot doesn’t understand why I don’t just order in for every meal. But I enjoy cooking. Especially cooking for Ankor, who I’m meeting out tonight. Or at least, I’m supposed to. He thinks we’re going to a restaurant, but I thought it’d be fun to surprise him at work, bring him dinner instead. Show how much love I put into it.

Margot thinks we’re both gross about our affection, but at least she approves. She’s been spending more time over since Ankor started going back to work semi-regularly this month. Which has been fun for me. She and I get along well.

It’s nice to have a female friend around.

“Shit.” I hear padding footsteps and turn to find Margot bent over her phone with a frown.

“Don’t worry,” I tell her. “I saved it before it actually started burning.”

“No, I mean, shit, have you seen Twitter?”

“I don’t have Twitter,” I point out.

She waves a hand. “Then, Insta, YouTube, whatever!” She turns her phone around and holds it out to me. “Look. These videos are all over my feeds. Looks like Marco and Lily got into it in the middle of the street.”

My eyebrows fly upward. “Really?” I grab the phone from her and squint at the videos, scrolling through them. Shit, yeah. There’s image after image of Marco yelling, then Lily scowling. I tap on one, forgetting all about the open oven behind me until it starts to beep. I kick it shut and turn it off, then click on the video again as I turn up the volume.

“Maybe I can give Sinclair a makeover,” Lily is saying, looking infuriatingly gorgeous, with her perfectly styled hair, and her hands on her perfectly sculpted, narrow hips. “After all, if she’s going to date you, she’s going to need to learn how to put on a good face for the cameras; god knows she needs all the help she can get.”

I wince, my stomach churning. Ouch.

But as I watch, Ankor whirls on her, his face going red, his fists balled. The only other time I’ve ever seen him look that furious was the night I told him about my ex, and what he did to me.

“Sinclair is more beautiful, inside and out, than you will ever be,” he says.

My lips part. In the video, he stalks off, pushing through the crowd. I can’t help it. I smile.

Margot snatches the phone back from me with a groan. “Ugh, he’s so grossly in love with you.” But she flashes me a grin as she says it. “And thank god it’s you and not some gold-digging user like Lily.”

I can’t wipe the stupidly wide smile off my face. “She does seem like the worst.”

“The absolute worst,” Margot is saying, when she suddenly spots something that makes her eyes go wide.

“What?” I make a grab for the phone again, but she holds it out of reach. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” She looks back at me. “Just… don’t tell Marco I showed you those Tweets.”

I frown. “Why not?”

“And stay off Twitter for the next few days,” she adds.

“I already told you, I don’t even have Twitter,” I point out.

“Well, stay offline altogether then. It’s for your own good.”

“Now you’re scaring me.” I glare.

She shakes her head. “It’s nothing bad, Sinclair, I promise. Just something good that you’d ruin if you looked. Like opening a present before Christmas, okay?”

I frown a little, confused, but I nod anyway. “Okay.” I trust Margot. If she says it’s not bad, then whatever it is, I’m probably better off not knowing. Most likely it’s Lily calling me more terrible names or insulting my clothing or whatever.

I go back to fanning the pie.

“You guys are doing couple-y dinner, right?” Margot points from me to the pie and back. When I nod, she shakes her head. “In that case, I’m out. You need a ride anywhere?”

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