Page 50 of A Billionaire Gentleman

Unless Jude wanted to know why I was confident that Deklin and Aurelia’s relationship was over. I couldn’t tell him that. I’d promised. And if I asked about going home immediately after asking him to trust me, he could think that I was skipping out without finishing the job.

I’d come this far. I had to see it through.

As I returned to my seat, I ignored the curious looks the three of us received. None of the secrets at this table were my business. They weren’t my family or my friends. I needed to remember that, or I was going to be the one hurt when things ended.

“Sofi, Grandad says you’re from Las Vegas. Have you always lived there?” Damon gave me that thousand-watt smile that women – and men – had been crushing on since the first moment he’d taken the stage.

And I felt nothing.

I wasn’t blind. He was gorgeous, but so was the oldest Holden brother, and I didn’t want Damon any more than I wanted Davin. I’d never been one to let attraction of lust rule my life, but I’d also never shied away from admiring someone attractive. Now, I wasn’t being reserved about it, but I didn’t feel anything other than the same casual observation that I would’ve had toward a pretty woman.

The first fluttering of panic had me tensing, but I managed to will it away before anyone noticed.

“More or less,” I answered his question with a smile of my own. “I didn’t always live right in the city, but I never went far from it.”

“You moved around a lot?”

I nodded, uncomfortably aware of the silence around us even as Damon seemed completely at ease with it. “Coming here is my first time out of the area.”

“How do you like Houston so far?” Cynthia interjected her own question.

“It’s beautiful,” I answered honestly.

“What did you do in Vegas, before Jude found you?” The question came from Ronall, and I wondered if he’d worded it that way because he suspected the type of work I’d been doing. Probably worse.

I gave a half-truth. “I was a housewife. If that’s even really a word anymore.”

“You’re married?” Davin frowned, his gaze shifting to his brother.

“Was,” I corrected. “My ex isn’t the…nicest of people. The divorce was finalized earlier this summer.”

At least that one was completely true, though I’d chosen more polite phrasing than Mead deserved. I kept smiling as I waited for the next question, telling myself this was better than them completely ignoring me.

“Aurelia, my dear, I’ve been meaning to ask you how you’re settling in.” Jude cut in so smoothly that the shift in conversation almost seemed natural. “You’re working on your master’s in childhood education if I remember correctly.”

“You do, and I’m settled in quite well, thank you.”

She blushed as she answered, clearly not liking the attention, but when her gaze touched on mine, I saw a strength she was only just beginning to understand. If I really had been planning to move here, I thought she and I would have become good friends.

“Are you going to be staying in Vernon to teach after you graduate?” Cynthia asked.

“She is not,” Ronall answered sharply. “There are several private schools here in Houston that will be eager to hire her.”

I wondered how much of Ronall’s tone was because he didn’t care for Cynthia or because he was struggling with relinquishing control over his daughter. He loved her, that much was clear, but the little I knew made me think that he was smothering her even as he tried to protect her.

“I’ll be working in Vernon’s public school system next semester,” Aurelia said. Her voice was even, but she kept her eyes on her hands in her lap. “Depending on how that goes, I may not want to work at a private school.”

Ronall’s mouth flattened into a tight line. “Nothing needs to be decided right now.”

She nodded, as if that response was exactly what she’d expected, but I wondered if this would be the start of her getting up the courage to tell her parents who she truly was. I had no doubt that at least a majority of the schools Ronall had in mind were ones that wouldn’t approve of Aurelia’s recent revelation. That very well might be what she needed to speak out. Either way, that parent-child relationship was in for some serious changes soon.

“What grade do you want to teach?”

Everyone in the room went completely still as I directed my question to Aurelia. Her eyes glinted with humor, and I felt a pang of regret that she and I wouldn’t have the opportunity to become friends.

“First or second grade,” she said. “I did my student teaching with second graders and loved it.”

I could almost hear the sigh of relief when things didn’t explode, and I knew at least two of the people at this table were thinking about how much gall I had and how amazingly polite she was not to snap at me.

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