Page 89 of The Billionaire Invitation

“I’m flying back tomorrow. Then…I don’t know what.”

O laid a heavy hand on Dante’s shoulder and squeezed. “That’s how it’s done. No sense in making a pros and cons list. Fast decisions are rewarded by the universe. As for tonight, wine and pizza on me. That is, if you can find a decent pie in this state.” He turned to walk inside. “I’m going to use one of your eight bathrooms. Be right back.”

“There are nine,” Dante called, smiling when his father’s laughter echoed off the walls.

His father was proud of him. And they were going to hang out and eat pizza and drink wine. Dante was going to have to sit with that for a second—or maybe the rest of the evening. O was right about a few things: his wariness of LA pizza and the fast-decision thing. The decision to step down, to leave this life behind, rang tuning-fork strong in Dante’s gut. Even though it scared the shit out of him.

He could only hope he wasn’t too late.

Inside, he splashed more wine into his glass. His eye caught the envelope on the counter. He tore it open and pulled out what was inside—a copy of North Shore Style magazine—a photo of him and Honesty on the cover. He removed the sticky note that read “From Jaylyn.”

In the photo, Honesty was laughing, her cheeks rosy, her eyes twinkling. Her dark hair was draped over his arm. And his expression— Jesus. How had he ever convinced himself Honesty could be temporary? The love he felt for her was written on his face. He’d seen a look like that before—on Brody’s face when he married Reagan. On Zander’s face when he introduced Chloe.

And on O’s face when he talked about his children.

All of them. Dante included. Hope welled up within him, strong and true.

His father exited the first-floor bathroom. “Find that pizza?”

“Not yet. Chinese takeout might be the better bet.”

“Lucky for you, I am a betting man. Order one of everything. I’ll buy.” Octavius grabbed his glass and the wine bottle. Dante followed.

Then they sipped wine, shot the shit, and watched the sun disappear behind the LA skyline.

CHAPTER THIRTY

The ballroom looked the way it had the first night she’d spotted Dante at the back of the room. The tables were neatly set with candles and flowers in the center. Programs and place cards rested on top of clean white plates.

Except tonight there was no Dante at the back of the room. She hovered at the edge of the stage, trying not to search for him but doing it anyway. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t hope he’d come, but here she was: hoping.

She was beginning to resent hope.

But she wasn’t here for Dante. She was here for Christian. Thanks to Dante, Long Live Food had made the trek from her head into the world. Her mother had reminded her of that when Honesty had called to ask if she and Dad would be in attendance tonight. With everything happening around her, Honesty had flat out forgotten to tell them about it.

But her mother and father were already on the road for vacation—a spur-of-the-moment trip. Honesty was sad that they wouldn’t be here, but she couldn’t blame them. They had been tirelessly supportive—her mother had offered to turn around and come back. Honesty forbade her and promised to be fine.

She would be. But that hadn’t changed how badly she’d wanted to see their smiling faces in the front row.

“Just you and me, bro,” she whispered to Christian. He was here somewhere. She could feel him. That would have to be enough to get her through the speech.

Michael Tillsbury had called her back this morning, apologizing for not calling sooner. He’d told her that he wanted to be a part of the program and was ready to start. He also agreed to be more communicative in the future.

She’d invited him tonight and was surprised when he’d said yes. He was here now, his remaining hand wrapped around a water glass. He dipped his chin when she waved. It was working out.

When he’d taken a step in her direction, she’d mirrored him. And that had been all that was required.

The notecards in her hands shook. Not because she was nervous about speaking. She loved speaking. But after very little sleep and a tiresome morning, she didn’t trust herself to remember the words she needed to say. She had also woken up still in love with Dante. Which was a bummer.

She still loved him. And his sister and his sister-in-law, and given enough time, probably his whole damn family. She wondered how long it took to heal from a heartbreak this consuming, or if she ever would.

She was introduced by the emcee, a veteran named Rick with PTSD and a prosthetic foot. He told his story and shared how Refurbs for Vets helped him feel more like himself—a better version of himself than before. Then he said some very nice words about Honesty, and about Long Live Food, and how valuable it was going to be to their community.

Honesty stepped onto the stage, the applause buoying her heart, and the hug from Rick strengthening her resolve. She packed away the fatigue and the doubt and her own heartbreak and then began to speak.

She spoke about Christian, and how much she loved him. How she wished he was there tonight. The irony was not lost on her that if he had been, this charity wouldn’t exist. She rested her hands on the podium and squeezed it with her palms. She allowed her gaze to sweep the room while she spoke.

“After Christian came home, I wanted to protect him. My older brother didn’t want to be protected. He was the protector. But he did let me cook for him. And teach him a few easy kitchen tricks that would help him in his recovery. We bonded over those simple meals and we ate them together at his kitchen table.”