The Billionaire Game 3(22)

“You really want to know what I think?” His hackles were up slightly, his words biting. “I thought everything that came out of my mouth was a lie.”

I choked down the urge to lash out. Okay, maybe I deserved that. But I couldn’t make myself apologize. Not until he gave me a real one himself, in person and sincere. “I didn’t say I’d believe your opinion,” I noted coldly. “I just said I wanted to hear it.”

Asher shifted from one foot to another, nodding to himself. Though his face remained still, I could see the battle in his eyes: how much to tell me? What would earn my wrath or my favor?

“You shouldn’t take the deal,” he said finally. “It’ll limit the scope of your future work and cheapen the brand you’ve spent all this time and energy building up. It’ll load you down with things you don’t want or believe in.” Earnestness crept into his voice. “You could build the line into so much more, Kate. Your skills and your vision—they’re worth more than a million. They’re priceless.”

I wanted to believe him. But—

“So if that’s what you think, why’d you pass this along?”

“You’re my partner,” Asher said indignantly. “I would never conceal important business information from—”

An awkward silence sliced through the second half of his planned sentence. I didn’t call him out, but we both felt the untruth he had been about to speak settle in the pits of our stomachs. Because he already had concealed important business information from me. And he would have kept it concealed if Brody hadn’t outed him on opening day. So it all came back to the bet: the hurdle we just couldn’t clear.

Asher scuffed his feet along the sidewalk, and oh, I had it bad if goddamn foot-scuffing could make my heart want to break all over again. He just looked so lost, and so sweet, and I wanted to take care of him…

“If you took the deal—” he started, looking at the ground. “If you took the deal, you could pay me off, return my investment. You could probably pay off all your debts, and start readying a new line to launch by next year. You’d be set for life.”

He looked up at me, then, suddenly, and I was unprepared, completely undone by those wide, sad, puppy dog eyes.

“So if that’s still what you want,” he continued, “if you still want to dissolve our partnership forever, I mean. You could do that. I couldn’t stop you.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but then realized—

I didn’t know what to say.

I wanted to never see Asher again, I wanted to kiss him until the end of time. I wanted to punch him in the face, I wanted to fuck him up against the side of the smoothie stand. I wanted him to apologize and love me, I wanted him to admit he had never loved me so I could move on. I wanted his support for my business, I wanted him so far out of my business he could never distract me from the bottom line again. It was too confusing. Every possible decision felt wrong.

I shut my mouth, and looked helplessly up at Asher. Beautiful, terrible, sweet, fucked-up, lying, supportive Asher.

But he wasn’t looking at me. He was turned away, hiding his face as he looked out at the city, spread out below us on that high San Francisco hill.

Beautiful, terrible, fucked-up, lying, supportive San Francisco.

“Take some time and think about it,” he said, and his voice was back to being clipped and cold. “They want an answer by the end of the week.”





SEVEN




“Katherine! Katherine! Brian, give Katherine a pat there and ask her to pass the potatoes, she’s off in Cloud Cuckoo Land again.”

“Sorry, Mom,” I said, shaking myself out of my reverie. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

Even as the words were leaving my mouth, my thoughts were leaving the conversation and heading back to the incredible offer Asher had told me about from Slips ‘N More. I was still mulling it over.

I couldn’t believe it. One million dollars was still an insanely unreal amount of money to me; I had to keep pinching my arm to reassure myself that it wasn’t all a dream. Maybe Asher was used to this kind of thing—hell, Asher probably spent a cool million every morning before breakfast—but a few months ago I was working at a reception desk for barely fifteen bucks an hour, and a benefits package that didn’t even include dental.

One million dollars.

“Coral, this asparagus. Brilliant. Bacon sauce, is it?”

“Vegan bacon, ma’am, so glad you like.”

Coral was my brother Brian’s girlfriend, and had been trying for three years to convert my family to veganism. So far she’d only managed it on Brian (not realizing he still ate fast food burgers whenever he was out of her sight), but hope sprang eternal, unfortunately.