Page 32 of Born a Billionaire

“What movie?” he asked.

“It was an indie film that never saw the light of day about a trio of female officers. I think they were going for the Charlie’s Angels vibe, but it wasn’t big budget and it sort of fell flat.”

“So, everything you touch doesn’t automatically turn to gold?”

“Of course not. Every actor stars in a few flops.” Her brow furrowed at what he’d said. “Is that what you think about me? That everything I do is gold?”

He shrugged. “That’s how it seems. Your movies are box office hits. And I’ve seen your commercials for beauty products and clothing. I even saw a billboard with you on it once. You and some guy, looking all hot for each other. I don’t remember what that was for, though.”

She frowned. “A men’s cologne.” She had met Layton on that photoshoot, and they’d started seeing each other frequently after. They’d even starred in her most recent movie together. If only he hadn’t been sleeping with every woman on the west coast.

“You’re practically a supermodel.”

“Far from it.” Her eyebrow lifted. “Wait, are you saying you follow my career?”

He coughed as the swig of beer he’d just taken went down rough.

She giggled.

“I’m saying I’ve seen some of the things you’ve done, and it seems like you’re doing well.”

She let it go at that, allowing the things she’d learned about him to simmer, which left her wondering if it was his job that had caused the rift between him and his wife. Long hours, too much overtime, missed holidays and special occasions, called out at random hours. That had to be hard on a marriage.

A growl of her stomach pulled her out of her thoughts. “What was that you said earlier about dinner?”

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