Page 54 of The Billionaire Invitation

He hadn’t missed her slip-up earlier, either. She’d inferred that she was his girlfriend—an easy mistake to make, given that she had, in fact, been his girlfriend. Of the days since he’d come back, he’d spent most of them with her. That had been their “arrangement” but now that idea seemed as ridiculous as cutting everything off arbitrarily because he was flying home to LA.

He took another deep drink of his martini. Not because it bothered him to think of “Honesty” and “girlfriend” in the same sentence, but because it didn’t.

Spending time with her hadn’t felt suffocating or difficult. And while he craved her sexually, and saw no end in sight to that need, it also wasn’t the only way he craved her.

Earlier today as they’d discussed her charity, he had felt alive again. It’d been eight years since he’d navigated the ins and outs of the foundation he ran. The newness of hers had sparked life in him.

And then there was a moment when he’d noticed that she was tired and yawning. He had wanted nothing more than to scoop her up and tuck her into bed. And not for the reasons she would have thought.

He wanted to take care of her, to make her life easier—like he’d done in Northwestern. When dorm life had been too much, she’d stayed at his apartment. They’d lived off coffee and subs from the deli down the street. There had been a time he’d thought life couldn’t get better than that. Honesty toiling away at what she loved and him being able to provide for her.

And then the bottom had dropped out.

Exams and life had been busy and hectic. News of his grandfather’s death paired with his mother’s panic and overwhelm had sent him straight into CEO mode. Not just of the foundation, but of the part of life that had gone sideways at the time. He’d had the capacity to care for two things at once. He’d swapped college and Honesty for the Moretti Foundation and his mom.

“So where is this big, lush family dinner?” Honesty interrupted his train of thought to ask.

“It’s at my father’s restaurant.”

Her eyebrows raised. “Your father owns a restaurant? Where?”

“Here in Chicago. He bought it a month ago. He owns a lot of businesses. And like everything else he’s involved in, his presence is minimal.” He heard the ribbon of accusation in that statement and reminded himself not to upend his family laundry here, on this table, in this classy restaurant.

His phone played Jaylyn’s jingle. He glanced down at the screen and read the preview of her text.

“Everything okay?” Honesty asked worriedly. Probably because of the stony set of his facial features.

“Yes.” He placed the phone facedown on the table. “Jaylyn has cordially invited you to the very dinner I just mentioned.” A text pinged Honesty’s phone next. “I’m sure that’s her. She has eyes everywhere.”

Honesty checked her phone. “It’s Gabby. She wants to make sure I don’t need anything. I’ll text her back and confirm that hair of the dog works wonders.”

After she sent the text, he nodded at her glass. “I didn’t know you drank martinis.”

“I’ve never had one before.”

“Well, as they go, this one is very good.” He was going to have to order another one.

Their food arrived, and with it, his second drink. They ate in silence for a few minutes before she said, “I wouldn’t mind going, you know. To your father’s restaurant. Unless my going would make you uncomfortable. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Do I strike you as someone who does things I don’t want to do?”

“You, Dante Crane, do exactly what you want to do—and nothing less.”

Even though she was agreeing with him, he frowned. Yes, he knew his own mind and acted in accordance with it, but the things he did were less about what he wanted and more about the people who needed him most. Which sounded more like he did what other people wanted him to do.

“I know I’m encroaching on your territory,” she continued, “so if you’re trying to make a clean break, tell me.”

“You think I’m trying to make a clean break?”

“Aren’t you?”

He shook his head, but…hadn’t he been planning just that? He was the one who made sure to label their reunion as temporary. She was doing a better job of rolling with the punches than he had. He’d invited her to a family dinner, for Christ’s sake.

It’s just dinner.

True. Dinner wasn’t the same as committing to a permanent relationship—to opening up his heart and laying waste to the sturdy wall he’d built around it. Him missing her was the devil that he knew. A comfort zone of sorts.

He wouldn’t uproot her life again, not when she was in a fragile stage in her business. The charity would require care and oversight and more of her than she could imagine. He didn’t envy that for her. He’d been through it with his foundation. And hell, it hadn’t even been new.