Page 50 of Billion Dollar Dispute
“Hungry?” He holds up a bag filled with food.
My mouth waters and stomach rumbles. “I can’t. Chad...”
But I don’t move to turn him away, so he takes it as an invitation and sits in the chair opposite my desk. He opens the bag and pulls out containers of rice, barbecue pork, satay chicken, and a stack of skewers dripping in sauce. There are also drinks and dessert. It’s enough food to last a whole week, and I wouldn’t put it past him to over order on purpose to keep the fridge stocked all week.
“Do you have someone helping you take care of him?”
I’m too tired to redirect his question, and I guess sharing an honest conversation once in a while will make working with him easier.
“Molly, or the apartment owners, Jade and Pedro.” My voice wobbles. “I've valued their willingness to help, but I know that time is coming to an end.”
He looks at me inquisitively.
"They’ve decided to sell to developers, and I want this business to succeed so I can buy my own place."
“You don’t want to rent?” His eyes search mine, trying to read between the lines.
I glance away as heat fills my cheeks. “Not the places I can afford.”
“I could help you if you get stuck,” he offers softly.
I shake my head. “I couldn’t afford the places you’d suggest.”
His brow furrows for a second, but then he straightens, his expression firm. “We’re going to make this business successful, so you won’t have to worry about money.”
His confidence catches me off guard, and I can’t help but challenge him. “How do you know?”
“I know a lot.” He gives me a sympathetic smile.
“What’s your story, Harvey?” I sigh.
He tilts his head. “What do you mean?”
“You’re wealthy, yet you work a lot. No girlfriend…”
“I see you’re trying to get me to open up,” he says, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“You know so much about me…” I fold my arms across my chest.
“I don’t know everything,” he says, tilting his head sightly.
I lift an eyebrow. “What would you like to know?”
He leans in, his voice lowering a touch, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “So much.”
“Like?”
“Tell me about Chad’s father.”
The temperature in the room seems to drop. He’s asking me a personal question…
I’ll answer it, but I will ask him one too.
I shake my head. “You’ll look down on me.”
“I don’t and won’t look down on you,” he argues, his gaze intense.
His stare makes me uneasy, so I exhale and decide to be honest. He could easily find out anyway, since he has the resources. Yet he’s asking me and that feels different. He’s choosing to trust me, even when I haven’t given him much to work with. Maybe he deserves the truth.
