Page 23 of The Billionaire Mismatch

“Alright. So we went to that sushi place,” I say. “And he asked me back to his penthouse,”

“For wine. I know. You texted me, remember? But what happened after that? Did you drink the wine? Did you not drink the wine?”

“We…opened the wine,” I say. “He poured the wine.”

“But you didn’t drink the wine…” she trails off.

I spin around to face my friend, panic spilling out of me like a shaken-up soda bottle. “Sadie, I’m sorry. You told me to play his game. You told me to follow his lead. And one thing led to another. I’m sorry. I know you really liked him and–”

“One thing led to another…” she echoes with a nod. “Does he want to see you again?”

“I…don’t know yet. Do you hate me?” I ask. I’m on the verge of tears here, which is why I’ve been putting off talking to her.

“No,” she says.

“You sound angry,” I tell her.

“I am angry. But not at you. At him,” she says, setting the curling iron down and unplugging it. “This is what he does. He leadswomen on until he gets what he wants. And then he kicks them to the curb,” she says.

“I don’t know if it was like that,” I say, and she blinks.

“No? Then what was it like?” she asks.

Mayday. Mayday.

“I just mean…I don’t really know what happened but–”

“Oh, I do,” she says, walking out into the hallway, and I follow her. For one, I need to finish getting ready for work. I’m still in a bathrobe. But also, I’m really confused about where she is going with this. “He got you to sleep with him. Because that’s all he wanted. Because that’s who he is. A snake.”

“Did he ask you to sleep with him?” I ask, shedding the robe and walking over to my closet.

“Hell no,” she answers. “He didn’t even kiss me, remember?”

“Right.” I say, tugging a teal dress over my head. “Listen, Sadie, I think this whole thing kind of backfired.”

“I don’t,” she says, and I look at her.

“How do you figure?” I ask.

“Did he get what he wanted?” she asks.

“He didn’t make me do anything, if that’s what you mean,” I say.

“But did he get what he wanted? Did he ask you to come over for wine, insisting that he really just wanted to have wine with you only to not have wine with you?” she asks.

“I mean…”

“So you see it now. You see who he is and what he does. We gotta get him, Livv. We gotta get him good.”

I just blink. Because while I know that was the plan, things kind of derailed last night.

When I got railed…

“What are you suggesting?” I ask, grabbing the rest of my things and heading for the door.

“You have to go on another date with him,” she says, and a high-pitched laugh escapes my throat.

“Another date?” I ask as I lock up.