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Nina nods halfheartedly. “You’re right. It’s best for everyone if nothing outside my contract turns serious this month.”

We wrap the presents in silence for the next few minutes.

For the rest of the evening, I try not to think about Nina. It’s pointless. I head for the study to see if Zander wants a drink and some company, and I’m not even halfway down the hall when I see Nina slipping quietly toward Jarek’s bedroom.

He opens the door, bare-chested and smiling like he’s been waiting for her. He kisses her and pulls her inside. I watch the door close and tell myself I made the right choice.

CHAPTER 12

NINA

The Braxton Hotel is the most exclusive resort in town, the kind of place wealthy families wait years to book for their parties and galas.

The Beaumonts don’t wait. Their charity gala has held the same December date in the Braxton’s ballroom for decades.

My errands have taken me to the Braxton several times this month, but this is my first meeting with the events director about Pascal’s annual Beaumont Charity Gala. Pascal wants me to go over a few things about the venue’s expectations.

“Welcome, Ms. Adler,” the events director says, stepping into the lobby. “I’m Mack Roberts, but please, call me Mack.”

I expected someone as stuffy as the clientele. Instead, Mack is a normal, attractive guy in his early thirties, dressed for a casual dinner party. No tie.

“Nice to meet you, Mack.” I shake his hand. “And please call me Nina.”

We walk to his office, past Art Deco rhinestone chandeliers the size of a school van. Mack greets the employees we pass, checks on routine operations, doles out a few compliments, and smiles the whole way.

He strikes me as the kind of guy who’d be easy to work for—normal, nice, and nowhere near as commanding or overbearing as Jarek, Zander, and Pascal. There’s something to be said for normal, although it certainly doesn’t excite me the way those three men do.

“Thank you for meeting with me,” I say when we sit down.

His office suits him better. It’s small and cozy, and the lavishness stops at the door.

“It’s my pleasure. It’s very important to me and everyone here at the Braxton that the Beaumont Gala goes off without a hitch.”

He pulls a thick planning file from a drawer and sets it on the desk. He clearly takes the Beaumonts seriously.

We spend about an hour going over every detail. Guests are flying in from all over the country, some from overseas.

We’re nearly done, but Mack doesn’t seem to be in a rush to end the meeting. Odd, for a man running a whole resort full of high-maintenance clients.

“So, how are the guys treating you?” he asks. “Billionaires can be a lot to take in if you’re not used to them.”

“It’s been great so far.” I nod. “They’re wonderful employers.”

It feels weird calling them that, and not just because I’m sleeping with two of them. The four of us feel less like employer and employee and more like family. Which is exactly why I need to be careful. Mack is a good reminder of where the boundaries are supposed to be.

“Hey, if you ever want to get out of that house for a bit,” he says, “I know a great little coffee shop downtown.”

For a moment, I’m not sure whether he’s asking me out, but it sure seems like it. Thankfully, he clarifies when my silence gets awkward.

“I can’t fly you there on a private jet.” He laughs. “But I’ll buy you a latte. I’ll even spring for oat milk.”

I giggle. He’s funny. Nice, normal. It’s kind of refreshing. And since what I have with the guys back at the house is supposed to be casual and temporary, a date with Mack seems like a good way to prove that to myself.

I grin. “Throw in a pastry, and I’m down.”

“Deal! It’s a date.”

Mack is exactly the kind of uncomplicated, stable guy the world keeps expecting me to want. He seems genuine, honest, and relatively free of baggage. All things I could use right now, both to keep my mind off three attractive billionaires and to put my scandalous breakup with Reid behind me.