Page 164 of The Playboy

“All right, baby.” He winked. “Let’s take over the world.”

EPILOGUE

Eight Months Later

Macon

“Iwas going to ask you how the sushi is,” I said to Brooklyn as she sat across from me, “but your moans are answering that question for me.”

“Macon, what am I eating? And how is it possible that anything can taste this good?” She popped another piece into her mouth. “I mean, I don’t even have to chew, it justmelllts,” she sang behind her hand. “There’s nothing normal about sushi that melts.”

The table was tiny. A small two-seater against the window in a restaurant I’d eaten at once before during my last trip to Japan. But there was something extremely special about the location of this table and the view we were able to see out the window.

I reached across the plate in the center and over both of our bowls of soy sauce to place my hand on her face. “I told you, there’s nothing like the sushi here.”

She finished chewing and swallowed, nuzzling her face into my palm. “I can’t believe I’m here.” Her voice was so quiet, emotional.

“You earned this trip, my Tiny Dancer.”

From the moment we’d started dating, she never once took anything for granted. And the deeper we got into our relationship, the more we traveled, the additional Spade Hotel properties she saw, that humbleness only grew.

Sure, there had been hiccups, like when she’d walked into my office and realized I was her new boss. In that room, she really gave it to me. When we got home, she chewed my ass out even harder.

I deserved it—every word, every accusation, she was dead-on.

But after I’d explained my reasoning again, she’d understood, the same way I had when I learned about her job.

Nothing was ever going to break us.

And even though she’d had concerns about living and working together, the combination hadn’t been an issue. After six months at the hotel, she’d moved her things straight into my place. And because she was running her own show with a small team of employees beneath her, all I did was oversee the end results, giving her my okay to move forward with the strategies and cost-saving measures she wanted to implement.

Aside from that, Brooklyn was her own boss.

The balance was fucking perfect.

And she’d already saved Spade Hotels over four million, awarding herself a two-hundred-thousand-dollar bonus. There were even more bonuses on the way since her most recent proposal for our Manhattan hotel was about to save us another five million.

She finished her nigiri and set her chopsticks down, lifting her sake and holding it while she leaned back in her chair. “How exactly did I earn this trip?”

I could lick that expression off her face—it was so damn sexy.

Man, I was one lucky motherfucker.

“Two reasons.” Still holding her face, I pulled my hand back and set my elbows on either side of my small plate. “Eight months into the job, and you’re fucking killing it, Brooklyn. Walter has been blown the hell away since your first proposal, his reaction even greater for the second one you just presented.”

“Mmhmm.” Her eyes told me she knew I was up to something.

“So, one, I wanted to bring you here to celebrate a job well done.” I clinked my glass against hers.

“And two?” She took a sip.

I glanced out the window, placing my finger on the thick pane. “Do you see that building right there?” I watched her eyes follow to where I was pointing. “The one with the dark gray windows that’s about forty stories high?”

“Yes.”

“We’re buying it.”

She looked at me.

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