Page 20 of Billionaire Romance

The mood instantly changes. I can’t tell where this is heading, but it feels wrong.

“If you’re afraid of losing the income, I’ll continue to pay you, we can set something up. I know you’re dependent on me for that.”

I pull my hands back. Suddenly his fingers feel coarse on my skin. The money hadn’t entered my mind, and I’m not sure what he’s even suggesting now.

“I’m not a prostitute. You understand that, right?” I ask, draining my coffee and concentrating on my cold eggs.

“Of course, I do, Weaver. I wasn’t suggesting anything like that, it’s just that I—”

I cut him off. “It’s just that you wouldn’t understand what it means to work for anything because it’s been handed to you on a silver platter your entire life.” I’m chewing furiously. I feel cheap. He made me feel cheap. “You know you can’t just snap your finger and throw down an AmEx card and expect everyone to fall in line with your plans. The world doesn’t work that way, Chris. At least, I don’t work that way.

“I don’t know about this.” I gesture with my fork between us. “I don’t know if this can work, built on a foundation of secrets. I need time to think.”

He looks stunned but nods his agreement.

“I see.” It’s all he says.

I already regret snapping at him. It’s so obvious to me that everything I said was about me, not him. About my insecurities as a cam-girl, my horrendous decisions that brought me to this predicament, my expectations about where I should be professionally. I mean, how dumb am I, depending on a single client to pad my bank account so I can realize my dream?

My phone buzzes on the table. I flip it over and see a text from Kate: Food! Now! Dying!

“I’ve gotta go,” I say, reaching into my purse and throwing a twenty on the table. “Kate’s up and hungover.”

“Sure,” he says. “Can I ask you just one favor before you go? Can I have your phone number?”

I rattle it off to him quickly and watch him type. He reads it back to me, and when I confirm it’s correct, he says, “Then I guess this is goodbye for now.”

“See ya, Chris,” I say, and turn toward the exit. I’m halfway down the block when my phone buzzes. I don’t have to look at my phone to know it’s from him.

This isn’t over. We’ve barely even begun.

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