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"Don't be so difficult!" I sucked my teeth and grabbed his hand while he chuckled.
His hand actually felt cold. I was glad to help him stay warm. He squeezed my hand gently, and I turned back to find a warm smile on his face.
This was perfect.
"Alright, billionaire boy, this is a diner," I announced as we arrived at the place I had intended for us to visit.
"Fascinating, what does it do?" He played along.
"They serve you breakfast, lunch, and dinner," I replied.
"So like a restaurant but unhealthier?" he asked.
"You're going to be having dinner here," I said.
"No, thank you, I only eat at four to five-star restaurants," he replied. "I'm no longer roleplaying. Let's get my car. I know a perfect French restaurant not far from here."
"Unfortunately, I can't afford it, so we'll stick to this one," I said.
"I'm literally going to pay for everything there so you don't have to worry," he assured me.
"Ethan, I took you out to relax. Let me have the opportunity to do just that, okay?" I requested.
"Fine, if you insist," he sighed and followed me in.
The warmth of the diner and the smell of good food hit us.
I took in a deep breath and exhaled. "Smells good. You good, billionaire boy?"
"It's billionaireman," he corrected. "I'm older."
"Right, I forgot." I rolled my eyes and led us to an empty table.
"No you didn't forget, you did that on purpose," he whined but took a seat.
"What would you like to have?" the waitress asked.
"We'll have two cups of Cocoa and chicken sandwiches," I ordered.
"They don't have steak and red wine?" he asked.
"No," I sighed and turned to the waitress. "Ignore him, that'll be all."
She left to get us our meal, leaving me with my billionaire boy.
"Why did you take me out?" he asked. "You said fresh air and walking, but we aren't doing any of those right now."
"You don't have to whine," I groaned. "You looked worried about something. I figured it wasn't work-related. Do you want to share?"
He stared at me deeply before breaking the contact and looking at his hands. "I don't really know if I should. It's personal and something I should have been able to handle on my own. But for some odd reason. I don't know what is happening anymore."
He looked bothered about whatever it was he was thinking. The last time I experienced something like that was concerning my father's hospital.
"I don't know if it's relatable to what you're going through but I had something that made me confused on how exactly I was meant to handle it," I said. "I came to work in your hospital because mine was failing."
He looked at me with a concerned look, "You own a hospital?"
"No, it's not mine; it's my father's," I explained. "I've always wanted to take over from him. When my mother died, my father handled management but things didn't go as he planned. And well, we haven't been doing so well."
