Page 46 of The Billionaire Mismatch

“Who the hell is that?” I ask before she is even out of earshot.

“That’s Peyton,” Matt says.

“Peyton who?”

“Hell if I know her last name,”

“Who hired her?” I ask.

“You did,” he answers. “To replace Sadie in the design department.”

My eyes narrow. “Right.”

“That was a good speech,” he says, crossing his arms. “Very empowering.”

“If you’re feeling empowered, maybe you can go do your job,” I say, heading towards my office. But as predicted, Matt is hot on my heels.

“Not until you tell me about your date,” he says.

“I don’t see how my dating life is relevant to the work that needs to be done around here,” I say as I round a corner. “By the way, that speech wasn’t all hot air. I really do want those stats. Holding the record for most second dates isn’t something to go off the rails about. For one, we can’t even prove we hold that record. Not technically. It just looks good on paper.”

“We are the most popular dating app on the web. Those numbers are real,” he says. “And as the CEO of the most popular dating app ever made, your dating life is kind of everyone’s business if you look at it that way.”

“I don’t look at it that way,” I say as I finally reach my office. I am half tempted to slam the door in his face, but I know that’s probably not going to fly and he’ll just come in anyways. I tell him to close the door behind him. If we are going to have this conversation, it’s going to be private.

“Alright,” I breathe out. “Things have gotten…intense.”

“Is the sex that good?” he asks with a grin, and I shoot him a glare in response.

“We haven’t had sex since the first date,” I admit, immediately wishing I could swallow my words.

“You haven’t had sex again? What have you been doing then?” He asks with the enthusiasm of a teenage girl.

“I am not in the mood to have this conversation right now,” I say.

“Too late,” he says and I know he isn’t going to drop it.

“Look. That’s what I’m talking about. We’ve been going out; that was the plan, right? To take her out and prove to her that I’m not who she and her friend and half the women on the internet seem to think I am?”

“You mean that you’re not a rich man whore who just sleeps with women then ghosts them?” he asks.

“Exactly,” I say. “So I’ve taken her on dates. Nice dates. Fucking expensive dates. And I was a gentleman. I ate s’mores and danced with her and kissed her. Really kissed her. I am doing everything I am supposed to do, and it’s just…a lot.”

“Wait,” Matt shakes his head. “S’mores?”

“Yeah,” I sigh, sitting down at my desk. “At the bonfire.”

“Bonfi–fucking hell, boss. You are…” he says, sitting down across from me.

“I know,” I growl. “I fucking know. It’s like…” I trail off, looking for the words. And when I find the right ones, I don’t want to say them. So I lower my voice. “It’s like we are actually dating.”

“Got it,” he nods, biting his lips for a second. “So…just hypothetically speaking…would that be a bad thing?”

“Would what be a bad thing?” I snap.

“If you were really dating…or at least if that was the way it appeared to her and anyone else who might be paying attention,” he says.

“Where are you going with this?” I ask. “Because the plan was just to make sure she didn’t pull one over on me. Not to be her boyfriend.”