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So, I do what any self-respecting billionaire would do.
I invite my cousin to brunch on Sunday morning.
She shows up late and I show up early, so there’s about a forty-five minute gap where I’m just drinking mimosas alone. When she finally waltzes in, I’ve got a nice buzz going. She approaches the table, sits down, and immediately starts talking.
“Look, I don’t know what you found in her background check, but you need to give her a chance. Alexandra is good at what she does. Damn good. She’s smart. She’s clever. She doesn’t have the best work history, sure, but that’s everyone but you, asshole. You’re the only one who hasn’t had to work to get ahead. It’s just you.”
A server drops by with a couple of mimosas and Beatrice takes two.
“I’m sorry, miss,” the server says. “It’s just one at a time here.”
She glares at the server, downs one of the mimosas, and then downs the other. She reaches for two more. I slide the server a folded bill and they disappear without another comment about Beatrice’s behavior.
“What was that?” My cousin glares at me and jerks her head toward the server. Is she unhappy I slid them money?
“A tip to apologize for your rudeness.”
She sighs. “I’m not trying to be rude. I just want someone to give Alexandra a damn chance.”
“I’m giving her a chance, but I’d also like to get to know her.”
Beatrice narrows her eyes. “Why?”
“Call me curious,” I shrug.
“I would never call you curious. You look up answers to anything you need the moment you think of a question. So, no. I won’t call you curious. What I will call you is something of a dick.”
“What’s with the name calling?”
“I saw the dresses you sent her,” Beatrice says.
“Did she like them?”
My cousin doesn’t answer for a long time. More mimosas appear and she once again takes two. I once again tip. Then we’re alone for a few moments.
“You can’t hurt her, Ryan.”
“I don’t have any intention of hurting your friend.”
“I don’t think that you do. You’re not a villain. It’s just that, Ryan...people tend to get hurt around you. I don’t want anyone to get hurt here. Not Alex. She’s special.”
I bristle at the thought. I know what Beatrice is talking about.
“I thought we were going to leave the past in the past.”
“I’m trying. It’s harder than it sounds.”
“Is it?” I ask her. “Because it kind of sounds like you’re happily dredging up old memories to throw in my face.”
Suddenly, my fight-or-flight response kicks in and I want to go. The urge to leave is pulsing in my veins, but I can’t do it. I can’t let Beatrice win. She loves to win, but so do I.
I could fight dirty, I know. She has secrets, too. There are promises I’ve made to her over the years. I’ve told her I’d keep her secrets safe with me, but suddenly, I want to throw them in her face. It’s rotten of me, I know.
It’s annoying as hell.
But I didn’t get where I am by giving in to my impulses. In fact, I’m perfectly self-controlled. Everything about my life is carefully planned, calculated, and executed. Even my drinking is carefully managed.
She knows. She knows what I’m thinking, and I see the fear flash in her eyes the moment she realizes what’s on the tip of my tongue.
