New York Billionaires Series

“Will you praise me after each answer?”

“Only if you’d like me to.” I lower the notepad. “Actually, how do you feel about praise? Is it a vital part of a relationship, or just good to have?”

“Knowing that,” he says, skepticism lacing every word, “will help me find a life partner?”

“Well, it will help me learn more about what kind of person you are. How you see relationships in general. Let me ask you this instead: what’s your ideal long-term relationship?”

“I’m not sure I believe in long-term relationships.”

I put the notepad back on my desk. This one has been burned indeed. He should have walked in stamped with a giant red caution sticker. “And why is that?”

“True love is a fairy tale,” he says. “Nothing lasts in life, and certainly not love.”

There’s a quick succession of knocks on my office door. I don’t have the time to reply before it’s opened, my elegant aunt on the other side. Her face turns into a serviceable smile as soon as she sees the two of us.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” she says, breathing fast. “I’ll be happy to meet with you in my office now. Summer, would you mind getting Mr. Winter and myself a cup of coffee?”

My heart stops as I look from her to the man in front of me, the one who never gave me his name. The one who didn’t say a word when I made my assumptions.Content is property of NôvelDrama.Org.

He rises from his seat and buttons his suit jacket in one smooth gesture. “A pleasure meeting you, Miss Davis,” he says. “It was very enlightening.”

Ace trots by my side to work the next day, close at heel, one of the few things he’s kept from his guide dog training.

“Look at that,” I tell him as we pass a for sale sign on the door to Charlotte’s Coffee Corner. For years, it’s been one of my New York staples, a familiar part of the route I take to and from work.

I should have bought more coffee there. If only I did, she might not have had to sell. To go out of business. To surrender to someone else’s demands.

Anthony Winter and Acture Capital can do whatever they want with Opate now, the clientele, the staff. Vivienne spent weeks pouring over the contract, but even so… I don’t trust it.

I don’t trust him. He’d said not a word to correct my false assumptions yesterday. Vivienne had sent me an apologetic email after he left, the subject line in all caps. I MISTOOK THE DAY!

Ace’s tail wags as we step into the lobby of our office building and I smooth my hand over his silky ears. He’s beautiful, my loyal dog, the one I can always count on. Good thing my aunt agrees with me. She likes to say having an animal in the office gives it soul, and I’m grateful for that, because I can’t imagine leaving him with my parents.

“Ready to meet the others?”

Ace looks up at me with alert, chocolate eyes. Yes, they say.

“There’ll be someone else here today. Someone we have to be nice to, even if we don’t want to. No biting.” I’m smiling even as I say it, and his tail wags harder. So fearsome.

I open the door to Opate and he makes a beeline for Suzy at reception. She grins when she sees him and puts down her lip gloss. “Hi, buddy,” she says, burying her hands in his fur in greeting.

The door to Vivienne’s office is open and voices emanate from within. I step closer and my aunt looks up from her desk, golden reading glasses perched on the edge of her nose.

“Ah, Summer! Come in, come in. I was just talking to Mr. Winter here and his associate, Ryan…”

“Walker,” a young man supplies.

“Walker, yes. They will be here often in the coming weeks to pick our brains on the company and to learn how it works.”

Ah, I think. They’re scouting it out before they make any changes, which means we have to be on our best behavior during this time.

And I’m already off to a bad start with Mr. Winter.

He’s sitting in one of Vivi’s chairs, arms draped along the armrests. The gaze he shoots me is as dark and inscrutable as yesterday. No hint he even remembers our exchange.

I give him a bright smile. “We’ll do our best to make you feel at home then, gentlemen,” I say. “When I don’t have client meetings, my door is always open to answer questions about the business and our practices.”

Both men’s gazes drop to my knees and a second later I feel the solid weight of a golden retriever pushing past me in the doorway.

“Our favorite employee,” Vivienne says. “This is Ace, my niece’s dog.”

The dog in question is busy scouting out the two men. He receives a pat on the head from Ryan, but he’s ignored entirely by Anthony, who only looks from the dog to me. I’ll have to apologize when I get the chance. Try to smooth things over from yesterday.

Oh, the things I’d said to him. Asking our new owner if he had a partner, or if he preferred women or men. Heat rises to my cheeks.

“Miss Davis was helpful yesterday,” Mr. Winter says. “I know she’ll continue to be so in the future.”

I give them both my sunniest, brightest smile. “Whatever you need,” I say and pat my leg. Ace returns to my side and we head into my office.

I’ve survived the first, shameful encounter. Whether I survive the second remains to be seen.

I’m sorting through our ever-shrinking pile of client applications when a single knock on my door sounds. Anthony Winter, hands by his sides, suit jacket unbuttoned. He’s nearly tall enough to graze his head on the doorway.

I turn away from my computer screen. “Mr Winter. Come on in.”

He stops a solid few feet away from my desk. Says nothing.

I clear my throat. “I’d like to apologize about yesterday. About mistaking you for a client. I realize that wasn’t what you’d expected, and well… I’m sorry.”

He pulls out the chair opposite my desk and sits down. Stretches out long legs in front of him. “I’m not,” he says.

“You’re not?”

“Like I said, it was enlightening,” he says and lets his gaze travel from mine to the pictures on the walls. My triumphs, my successes.

I open my mouth. Close it again. And then: “I’m sorry to ask, but why did you buy Opate Match?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Why did I buy your aunt’s company?”

“Yes. Judging from yesterday… you don’t believe in our services.”

“No. But I believe in your ability to generate profit.”

“Well, that’s something, I suppose.”

His gaze returns to mine. “Tell me more about your business structure, Miss Davis. I’d like to hear it from you.”

From me?