Page 217 of Secret Heir For The Billionaire Twin

“That was only once. Seven years ago. And I definitely drank more wine.”

“I have a decent memory.”

Her eyes lift to mine.

“Apparently.”

I twist the cap from my bottle.

The answer carries enough weight that neither of us follows it.

For the next twenty minutes, we keep the conversation where it is safe.

The facility.

The tour.

The technology.

Sophie asks about the campus expansion, and I explain how the site grew from a smaller research operation into the center of our advanced systems work. She listens with the same concentration she had years ago, pen resting beside her plate even though she has finally stopped taking notes for the evening.

“What made you build it out here?” she asks.

“We already had a small engineering team in the Valley,” I tell her.

“Once advanced systems started growing, it stopped making sense to keep forcing everything through New York.”

“So you built another center.”

“We expanded one.”

Sophie gives me a look over the rim of her beer.

“That sounds suspiciously like executive semantics.”

“It’s accurate.”

“Conveniently accurate.”

I almost smile.

She catches it.

Neither of us comments.

Sophie shifts in her chair and looks through the windows toward the rain.

“You like it here.”

It is not a question.

“I do.”

“You’re different here.”

I take another drink.

“You said something similar in Milan.”