Billionaire Romance Boxed Set 2(179)

…



With the doctor’s visit behind me, and Beatrice apparently calmed down enough to have a normal conversation, the rest of the day passed uneventfully. I went back with Jeremy to Asher’s guest house. Beatrice and Asher went to the main house, presumably to talk or something. How should I know? I was glad to be away from her, since it gave me time to think and it made me less nervous.

“So, sounds like you had a great time,” Jeremy said.

I rolled my eyes while he grinned at me. “Why is she like that?”

“Couldn’t say.” Jeremy shrugged. “I guess she’s always been that way? She’s the kind of rich person that you can tell is a rich person, because she won’t let you think otherwise. Asher’s kind of obvious when he suits up, trying to look nice for business, but otherwise you probably couldn’t tell. Like when he plays basketball he just looks regular, you know? Beatrice never wants to even consider being regular, let alone looking it. That’s just how she is.”

“I guess I can understand,” I said. “I mean, I don’t really understand it, but maybe if I were rich I’d understand better. I suppose when you have the money, you can do whatever you like. Not that it’s right, but why should she care? She’s rich.”

“Right. Yeah, that might be it.”

I sighed and fell onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. “I want some cheesecake,” I said, completely out of the blue.

“Oh yeah?” Jeremy asked.

“Yes. Caramel pecan turtle cheesecake like they have at The Cheesecake Factory sometimes. Mmmmm…”
#p#分页标题#e#
“You want to go?”

“…with the chocolate icing swirls on the edge and the lines of caramel drizzled on the top and…”

“Look, lady, you want to go get some food or what? I’m starving over here after driving some chick around all day and I could go for a bite to eat.”

“Did you just call me a chick?” I asked.

“If the shoe fits.”

“What kind of shoe does a chick even wear? Are we talking about a baby chicken or are you being some chauvinist pig?” I couldn’t help but grin, even though I tried to say everything as serious as possible.

Jeremy smirked. “If you were a chicken, this might be easier. You could just lay an egg for Asher and let Beatrice sit on it.”

“That wouldn’t be nearly as fun as having sex with him,” I blurted out.

Jeremy nearly died laughing. “You really need a boyfriend or something. Pining after a married billionaire is probably not the best use of your time. You know it’s never going to work out, right?”

I frowned a bit. It was true, but… “Probably. I know.”

“Ah, well, they used to say the world was flat, too. You never know?” Then, holding out his hand to help me off the couch, he said, “So, food?”

“Can we have the cheesecake first?” I asked. “And then our meal. Then more cheesecake, maybe.”

Jeremy lifted me off the couch. “Are you pregnant already? Should I get you some pickles and ice cream, too?”

“Ugh, no.” I jumped up and ran to the door. “Actually, do you think they make pickle cheesecake? I bet they do somewhere. I don’t want any, but I think that’d be interesting to try. At least once, you know? To say you did it.”

“I think I’d rather never say I tried pickle cheesecake,” Jeremy said as he opened the door for me. “Let’s stick with the caramel pecan turtle variety.”



…



Dinner was nice. Jeremy and I talked about this and that while we ate. I relented and accepted the fact that dessert should come after dinner, but not without a bit of a fight. Not much of one, but a little. It didn’t matter too much, since my Santa Fe salad and grilled chicken and avocado club sandwich more than made up for the lack of a cheesecake appetizer. The cheesecake was delicious, though; I ordered a piece to go.

And then Jeremy paid for dinner with one of Asher’s credit cards. I felt bad and I wanted to pay, but I didn’t have a lot of spare money at the moment.

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Jeremy said. “As long as we bring back something for Asher, he won’t mind. He’s a cheesesteak and apple crisp sort of guy, so I’m sure he’ll be happy.”

“I guess,” I said. Still, that didn’t make me feel better about it.

We left. In the car, Jeremy said, “I feel bad sometimes, too, but that’s how Asher likes it. I mean, what are we supposed to do? He gets upset if he finds out that I paid for something like this on my own. And then what? I feel bad all over again. It makes him happy to pay for food and stuff like that, so why not?”