Page 111 of The Billionaire Is Back

“Okay.” I step away from him. “Thanks for coming, you guys. You probably need to get back to work…”

“Oh, we wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” my mom says, hugging me. “Not that it isn’t a huge deal if anyone were to miss this for a very good and unavoidable reason.”

“Do you think I could get a quote from Mr. Barber via email?” Maisy asks politely.

“I’m sure that can be arranged. I’ll give him your information.’

“There you are!” a middle-aged woman calls out to Maisy. “I’m double-parked.”

I recognize her as someone who’s come in here before.

“Mom!” Maisy mutters. “I told you to text me when you’re out front!”

“Well, I wanted to see if there are any s’mores left. I heard from three different people that they’re out of this world, but I see I’m out of luck.”

“Oh, well, we’ll have fresh ones tomorrow.”

“Martha!” my mom calls out, even though she’s right beside her. “Great to see you! How’s the job hunt?”

Maisy’s mom frowns. “You’d think more local businesses would be looking for a competent, reliable woman of a certain age who’s a fast learner, proficient in QuickBooks, excellent at multitasking and organization, with an MBA in wife and motherhood.” She throws her hands up in the air. “I gotta wait for all the kids to go back to school before they’ll even bring me in for an interview. Meanwhile I’m trying every recipe on the internet.”

“If you find a job before I do, I’ll be so mad,” Maisy says to her mother. “But at least Dad and I will get a chance to lose some weight if you’re out of the house more.”

I glance over at Vera, who’s glued to her phone. I’m not hiring yet, but I file away this conversation in the back of my mind.

As my parents, Maisy, and her mom leave, Jake comes over to knock my beretoff my head and give me yet another noogie. “Not a bad turnout, asshole. Not bad at all.”

I swat him away. “Sorry I don’t have any leftovers for you to take back to the station today, asshat.”

“Aw, no worries, asshole. I do gotta head over there now, though.” He wraps a big, beefy arm around my shoulder. “You good?”

“Yeah. I’m good.”

He studies my face and sighs—a big-brother sigh. “If I didn’t love that guy so much, I’d kick his ass.”

I smile, a brave smile. “If I didn’t love him so much, I’d love to see that.”

“I’m sure he had a good reason.”

“For sure. Get outta here.”

“I’m gettin’. Congratulations, though. For real.”

I wave him off. I can’t deal with any more sincerity from my older brother right now, or I will burst into tears.

I sneak up behind Vera, who’s still staring at her phone. “Who’s texting you? Let me guess—is it time for lobster practice?”

She slips her phone into her pocket. “I don’t have to go. You want me to stay, right? I’m staying with you,” Vera says. She’s trying to sound casual, but she’s clearly worried about me.

“Nope. We’ve already cleaned up for the day—there’s nothing else to do here. Go to the beach. Have fun. Train some lobsters. I need to work on the cake design. You know. For when Muhammad Lobbee finally wins.”

“Ugh. There’s still time to change that name. Are you sure, though?” She gives my hand a squeeze.

I shrug. I shrug so nonchalantly, how can she not seehow there’s absolutely nochalancehere and hence no need to be worried. “Yeah, absolutely. I’ll be here working on the designs. No problem.”

“‘Okay. You call me if you need me,’ she told her best friend, really meaning it because she loves her and is super proud of her for being such a badass,” Vera says.

I roll my eyes, which helps restrain the tears that are threatening to shoot out at her. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for everything, bestie.” I hug Vera tightly before letting her go.

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