The Billionaire Game 2(16)

“I’m confident in all things,” Asher said. “Plus, if we hadn’t come to an agreement, there’s no reason the picnic would have had to go to waste. I could have drowned my sorrows in champagne and summer pudding.”

“You have summer pudding?” I said, trying and probably failing not to squeal. I had had it once on a family trip to England, and never forgotten it. “What the hell are we still talking for, then?”







Asher insisted on setting the scene first, spreading out the tablecloth and setting out the silverware, resting the champagne in a bucket of ice, and arranging all the food—not only was there summer pudding with heaps of whipped cream, but also crusty French bread, olives, prosciutto and venison sausage, hand-dipped chocolate strawberries, and fresh blueberry tarts with custard.

Once we set to eating, I tried not to think too much about the pleasant little shiver that shot through me each time our hands brushed reaching for the same little delicacy. I focused on the sunset instead, the way it painted everything in purples and pinks and slowly lengthening shadows. The night was cool but I hardly noticed because of the fire simmering slowly and teasingly inside me. Asher’s leg had somehow come to rest next to mine, not quite touching; I swore I could feel that millimeter of space between us.

“Pass the strawberries?”

Asher plucked a white-chocolate-dipped strawberry and dangled it above my lips. “What’s the magic word?”

“Abracadabra,” I said, and stretched up to take the berry in my mouth, accidentally-on-purpose flicking out my tongue to lick those long, elegant fingers. Asher started, and I couldn’t resist adding a moan as I sucked the sweet fruit into my mouth, savoring both the taste of the chocolate and the storm I saw brewing in Asher’s eyes.

“You missed a spot,” he murmured, and then was leaning closer, his body angled over mine as he pressed me back against the picnic blanket, his fingers stroking my shoulders. “Let me get that for you.”

His eyes were like deep pools, and his lips—oh God, I remembered how soft and warm those lips were—so close to mine…

So I did the only conceivable thing I could do to save us both from our impending terrible decision and the impacts on our business.

I pushed him into the ocean.

Hey, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

After the initial splash, Asher came up spluttering. “What the—Kate, what the—”

“You cooled off there, Romeo?” I said, leaning casually over the side. “’Cause if not, maybe we can talk about something else. What’s your will like these days? No reason, asking for a friend.”

He muttered something, and I leaned closer to hear. Before I knew it, his arm had come up and given mine a yank. I shrieked as the cold water closed over my head, and I surfaced to the sound of his laughter.

“You bastard, I lost my shoes.” But now I was laughing, too.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” Asher said. “Unless you’d like these back…?” He dangled my shoes over his head.

I eventually had to swim-chase him down and wrestle him to get them back, our bodies entangling as we fought for them, each of us trying not to giggle too hard and lose our grip on each other’s arms and hips and—oops!—other places.

I’ll be honest. I didn’t terribly mind.





FIVE



Another day, another charity event. Thus is the life of the rich and famous, and also the life of the loyal BFF of the newly rich and famous who has dropped hints like atom bombs to said newly rich and famous friend that oh God, if she has to make one more decision about warehouse insurance or elastic supplier she will scream so goddamn loud they will hear me at that elastic supplier and that elastic supplier is in goddamn Colombia, Lacey, THEY WILL HEAR ME IN COLOMBIA.

So yeah, that had happened. And here I was, with Lacey and Grant, trying desperately to relax in my one item of formalwear that wasn’t in the laundry from multiple business meetings and press conferences: a too-tight turquoise number that Lacey charitably said brought out my eyes. Maybe it did, but that didn’t make up for how hard it was to loosen up while wearing a dress that made it a chore to breathe, and that also made you constantly worry it would rip in half if you turned suddenly or bent over to untwist the ankle strap on your second best pair of heels.

Still, it was good to get out of the shop and get out of my own head. The charity event was for emerging artists this time, and to better display the art they were holding it indoors, in a beautiful ballroom done up in classical Chinese dragons and phoenixes in red and gold all over the columns, curtains, and mural on the ceiling.