New York Billionaires Series

“I will,” she says, stretching her legs out. I’m about to insist when she gives a soft sigh and leans her head against the back of the couch, closing her eyes. “This is nice.”

My gaze returns to my mug. Surprised to find that I actually agree with her on that.

“You know,” she says, “I have a few great friends in the city, but most of them are from college, and they have their own lives. I don’t spend as much time with them as I’d like.”

This is when I should leave. I know it in my bones, but my body is glued to the couch. Perhaps she’s a siren.

Capturing men, soul after soul.

“I don’t with mine, either,” I admit. Somehow, it doesn’t sound quite as pathetic spoken out loud in her warm apartment.

“You have your business partners,” she points out.

“I do, although we mostly work together.” Not to mention all my friendships have an expiration date.

“You grew up in the city?”

“Yeah.”

She makes a soft humming sound, and I crack open one of my lids to see her regarding me thoughtfully. I can only imagine I look a sight, sprawled in my suit on her couch, holding a tea mug with peonies painted on it.

“You’re thinking about something,” I tell her.

“Yes,” she admits. “Just that you’re very fascinating, Anthony.”

I close my eyes again. “Sure.”

“I mean it, though. You’re full of contradictions. You never say or do what I expect you to. You don’t react to the women I set you up with the way I’d planned. You buy a matchmaking company you despise.”

“I don’t despise Opate.”

She chuckles. “Right. You like my dog, despite pretending you don’t.”

“I’ve never pretended not to like your dog.”

“Mmhm, sure.” Now there’s laughter in her voice. But I don’t mind being the object of her fascination, or her laughter.

“And now I’m here in your apartment after midnight,” I complete for her. “Drinking tea.”

“Yes. You’re fascinating, that’s all.”

“Happy to entertain.” I give a half-bow from the couch and she chuckles again, turning back to her tea. This time, I’m fairly certain she’s blushing. No trick of the lights here.

“You’re part of one of the city’s most illustrious families,” she continues, “but you didn’t mind eating pepperoni pizza out of a box with me. Right after, mind you, spending more money than most people earn in a year on a watch you can’t wear.”

“Hey,” I tell her, something in me drawing tight at her words. “I would look great in a woman’s diamond watch.”

Her answering smile is too blinding, so I close my eyes again. “And you’re funny, too. But I don’t think you joke too often, and I think your laugh is rarer still.”

“I’m not one of your clients,” I say, meeting her gaze. “No need to keep trying to figure me out.”

Summer’s mouth opens on a soft exhale. “Perhaps I just want to learn more about a friend.”

“A friend,” I repeat, running my thumb around the rim of the mug. Looking at her and knowing I’ll never be satisfied with just that, but unable to ever offer her more.

“Want to see him again?” I ask my parents. I don’t wait for the reply, turning my camera around to show Ace on the video call. He’s sprawled on the rug, a chew toy between his front paws. He lifts his head to look at me. Yes? it says. What do you want me to do?

“Oh, he really does look great,” my mother says. “I’m so happy your friend could help get you to the veterinarian so quickly.”

“Was it Posie?” my dad asks. “Someone from college?”

“A new friend, actually. Through work.”

“That’s great, honey. You need friends in the city.”Content rights belong to NôvelDrama.Org.

“You sure do. Hey, don’t forget to give him nice, gentle food tonight and tomorrow, okay? His stomach has been through a lot. White rice, oatmeal, chicken.”

“I will, Mom.”

Ace returns to his chew toy, healthy and hale again. It’s the sweetest relief. Never again, I think.

“Have you spoken to that vocal coach again? The one you contacted for singing lessons?”

I shake my head, and my mother sighs. “You used to sing all the time, honey. You sang before you could talk!”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Not that long,” she says.

“I’ll look into it,” I promise, not knowing if I will. Singing has been… difficult since Robin. During his time, too. The little comments about my pitch and my breathing. The smirk as he listened for something to comment on. He’d sucked all the fun out of it.

He’d done that with most things.

“That’s good. Your cousin Frida is getting married in a few months, you know. I’m sure she’d love it if you sang there.”

I groan. “Mom.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll lay off.”

My dad peeks over her shoulder. “How’s the new boss? The one Viv sold the company to?”

“He’s okay,” I say, shrugging. The picture of casualness. “He’s a venture capitalist. He wants us to make more money, and that’s pretty much it.”

“I’m not sure Viv is taking too kindly to that,” my dad says. His gaze locks on something over my shoulder. The towels, still rolled and pressed against my windowsills. “What’s behind you, sweetie?”

“Oh, the windows leak when it rains.”

“They do what?”