AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I’ll let you go now, I know you’re busy.
Please tell the person who chose the new outfit that they did good. Your PA?
Oh ye of little faith. I chose it.
Lies
Seriously. I did.
And I’m taking over my events management duties, so I basically had to fire the whole team because I’m planning my own social life now.
You did NOT.
You’re right. Looking forward to holding your hair back later.
When I approach the sushi bar, I hear a wolf whistle. I spin around to see Becks waiting for me at the window. I laugh and stride towards her, enveloping my best friend in a huge hug.
“So glad we’re doing this!” I cheer.
“Me, too,” she says, face glowing, then looks me up and down. “Holy shit, woman, you clean up good!”
“I've always thought that phrase was more of an insult than a compliment,” I say primly. “Like, usually I look like shit, but not today.”
“Oh, shush,” Becks retorts. “You know you are drop-dead gorgeous every day.”
I deflect the compliment with ease. I’ve had loads of practice. “I can’t wait for sushi. Been thinking of it all day.”
“Me, too. I see you've brought your bodyguard." She wiggles her eyebrows at me.
"That's Henderson,” I say. “He’s here to watch over us like a benevolent angel."
“What are you not telling me?" asks Becks, eyeing me suspiciously. “What kind of business does your sexy billionaire man actually do?"
“Good question,” I hedge.
Becks frowns at me. "You mean you haven't asked?"
"No. I mean, I probably wouldn't understand it, anyway."
"That's a strange way to look at it," she says. "I'm not sure that you realize how intelligent you are, Ives.”
"I'm not saying I'm dumb. I did well in school.”
“And you read a shit-ton of books.”
“I’m just saying that I'm not a corporate type. I'm not in business. When I hear business jargon like derivatives and financial yield, my eyes glaze over. I just don't find it interesting. And apart from that, we hate capitalism, right?
“I get it,” she concurs. “Greedy corporates are the enemy.”
“Exactly!”
“But I still think you need to know what you’re getting yourself into.”
An ember of anxiety lodges in my throat. “Let’s get a drink. It’s on the sexy billionaire man.”
“So,” Becks drawls once we’ve been installed at a table with artisanal sake matcha cocktails. “Spill the tea.”
I shake my hair back. “What do you want to know?”
