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“If the client who flew me to South America for two weeks had to choose to spend the night with you or me, you’d win hands down.”
Recognition hits, and his eyes widen. “Really?”
I nod. “He needed a translator. End of story.”
He shakes his head. “All these men who are gay, but still not fully ready to tell the world. Their secrets destroy lives.”
“Are you talking about Derek?”
“Yes. Rumor has it before Jayden, there were many men. His wife is now in a frantic state of panic and worry. She’s trying to figure out if Derek put her health in danger by being intimate with men while he was married to her. Since he’s dead, she can’t confirm if he had safe sex or not.”
“Poor woman.”
“She’s been at the hospital, running a battery of tests to find out if she’s contracted any diseases from her dead husband’s indiscretions.”
“I hope the tests come back clean.”
“We all hope so. By we, I mean, myself, my lawyers, my PR firm, and my upper management. I don’t want to come across as self-centered, but I can’t deal with another blow concerning Derek.”
As he eats another burrito, he talks about Jayden Whitfield’s interviews and the devastating impact they’ve had on his company. From the sound of it, Bryce has barely slept in the last two and a half weeks.
“Let me get rid of the plates,” I say, when he’s done.
“Thank you. The burritos were delicious. They hit the spot nicely.”
“It’s my pleasure.” I grab our empty plates and move towards the sink.
Even though I cleaned this morning, my eyes bounce around to make sure it’s tidy.
He joins me at the sink.
He removed his bespoke suit jacket and his blue silk tie with pattern, but he still looks commanding in his unbuttoned white shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows.
“You have a lovely home,” he says.
I’m sure he’s just being polite.
The billionaire standing next to me proposed to a rich Russian heiress. He stays at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel, Paris when he visits the City of Light. This house is nowhere near to what he’s used to.
“It’s the home my paternal grandparents rented for decades until they passed away,” I say. “My grandfather was in between construction jobs. He got a great offer for a temporary contract in the Dominican Republic. With a lot of mouths to feed, he jumped at the opportunity. He died after being crushed by several tons of scaffolding and bricks.”
“God,” Bryce mumbles.
“We were all in shock.”
“It must’ve been hard on your grandmother.”
“It destroyed her. Abuelita and abuelito married when they were twenty—and it’s not because abuelita was pregnant. They genuinely loved each other.” My shoulders slump. “Eight months after abuelito passed away, abuelita died in a car collision.” I sigh. “Within a year, abuelita and abuelito were together in Heaven.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
I nod. “Dad was devastated. For months, he just wasn’t himself.”
“That’s understandable.”
I nod. “We all felt their absence for years after their passing.” I take in a fortifying breath. “My sister vowed to keep this house in our family when abuelita passed away, so she bought it.”
“What a touching story.”
