Page 49 of Her Billionaire Boyfriend

“Turn it off,” she managed through grittedteeth.

I laughed and hit the button. “Only becauseyou asked so nicely. Did you want to use your word or…”

“I just needed a break.” She pushed her hairback with one hand and reached for some juice with the other.

“How many times did you come when I was onthat phone call?” I asked, sitting down and making a point to placethe remote beyond her reach.

“Twice, but in a multiple, blended-togetherway. Way too intense. Like, is it powered by angry bees? My clit ison fucking fire.” She shifted in her seat, and I felt a little bitguilty.

“You know, maybe it’s too much, aftereverything I’ve done to the poor thing lately.” I frowned. “Also,maybe you’d like to take the vibrator off before I tell you whatthat call was about.”

She slammed her palm down on the table anddemanded, “Who’s Catherine!” with a dramatic voice that didn’tmatch her mischievous smile.

I laughed. “My sister. Do you want todiscuss siblings while wearing a sex toy or…”

Charlotte jumped up and quickly divestedherself of the vibrator before sitting back down.

“That’s what I thought.” My coffee wasgetting cold. I poured a little more from the insulated carafe towarm it up. “As it turns out… I forgot my mother’s birthdayparty.”

Charlotte’s forehead rumpled slightly. Iassumed she was wondering what that had to do with her.

“It’s this weekend,” I clarified.

“Oh.” She squinted. “What day is ittoday?”

“Today is Wednesday.” I held up sevenfingers. “You see the issue, I’m sure?”

“It’s totally no problem. I can stay here.I’m not a dog. I’m not going to chew up your couch if you leave mealone for a few hours.” She picked up a strawberry from her plateand took a bite, adding, “And you’re not going to offend me by notintroducing me to your family.”

“It’s for more than a few hours.” I paused.“It’s kind of an all-weekend affair.”

“Oh.” She swallowed, then cleared her throatand forced a smile I didn’t buy for a second. “So, we cut my visitshort a little bit. No big. I can always fly back in a fewweeks—”

A few weeks?I would miss my mother’sfuneralto avoid being away from Charlotte for a fewweeks.

No, I wouldn’t. But that was how dramatic Ifelt.

“Seriously,” she went on, probably because Iwas sure I looked like I’d swallowed poison. “I’m not going tobreak up with you because we had to change our plans. I’mcapricious, but I’m notthatcapricious.”

“Leaving early is not what I was going tosuggest.” WhatwasI going to suggest? That Charlotte shouldwalk straight into the lion’s den? Worse, the Catherine’s Den? Allof my other relationships had been with people who were, if not oldmoney, at least in a tax bracket used to dealing with old money.And Charlotte was so quick to protect herself from rejection that Icould easily see her being chased off by noon on Saturday.

But I also planned on her being a part ofthe rest of my life. It could be better to get the culture shockover with right away, so if she wanted to disentangle herself fromme, it wouldn’t be after years of dating.

A thought struck me, then. We’d met atScott’s doomed wedding in March. Then, we’d had a phone sexrelationship for three months. She hadn’t technically been mygirlfriend, but I could retroactively count that as dating. Fourmonths was an appropriate span of time after which one couldintroduce a partner to their family.

Right?

Fuck it.

“I want you to go to Connecticut withme.”

“Go with you to meet your family?” She saidit like a foreign phrase she was trying to decipher.

“I know it’s a big ask. We’d drive up onFriday, spend dinner with my wonderful mom and shitty sister, dothe whole society party thing on Saturday, brunch Sunday, and comeback here.” If she even wanted to come back after she put up withmy sister and her awful husband.

“I don’t know…” she winced at her ownreluctance.

“If you don’t want to, I completelyunderstand.” And I did. I would be bitterly disappointed if shewent home early, but I would very much understand. If I could runaway to California, I’d jump at the chance.

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