Page 30 of Flirting with My Billionaire Enemy

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“That must have been hard,” I say.

“I miss them so much,” she says.

“Do you have brothers and sisters?” Mom asks.

“No, I’m an only child.”

“And are your grandparents still around?” Does Mom have to keep interrogating her?

“No. Both my grandparents are gone now. My grandma got cancer, and my grandpa died after a heart attack.”

“Do you have any other family in the U.S.?”

“Your cousin, right?” I ask.

“Yes, I have my cousin here and her parents. Her dad is my dad’s brother. Both of them came over to the U.S. when they were in their twenties.”

It’s the most Ariana has opened up to me. Leave it to Mom to pull information from one of her victims. She could have gone into detective work with those interrogation skills.

“Well, you’re welcome to adopt us as family. We have plenty of family members to share,” my mom says, that twinkle in her eye returning.

Adopt or turn them into in-laws?

Ariana smiles. “Thank you.”

“Of course, if you ever decide to marry into the family, you could make it official.” Mom looks like she’s about to rub her hands together with glee. “If you decide Kaison’s not your type, keep in mind that I have three other single sons, too.”

“Okay, Mom. I think Ariana and I are going to wrap up our research for the night,” I say. “I have a couple questions I need to ask her about the papers we’re going through.”

“Oh, all right.” She gets this pouty look on her face like I’ve ruined all her fun.

Ariana and I head out to the hall, and when we get to the conference room, she asks, “What was it you wanted to ask me?”

“Oh, nothing. I just thought my mom was being a bit too overbearing.”

She laughs. “She is a lot. But it’s okay. I don’t mind her so much.” She smiles.

Huh. A girl who can handle my mom. Not something I see every day. Most women would have hightailed it out of there at the first couple of questions.

Her laptop is sitting open on the conference table. Her manuscript is open on the screen. She must have been working on it when I was first talking to my mom.

“You been writing again?” I ask.

“Yes, I’m stuck on the ending. I’m not sure how to wrap it up.”

“I can understand that. Want to send it over to me? I don’t mind taking a look and giving you some feedback.”

“You would do that?” she asks incredulously.

“Sure. I really enjoy storytelling.” I hesitate, and I don’t know why I’m admitting this, but there’s something about Ariana that makes me want to tell her my secrets. I lower my voice. “The truth is, I enjoy writing, too. It’s something my family doesn’t know about me, so I’d appreciate it if you kept that between the two of us.”

“You’re a writer?” she asks, her voice low.

“I’ve published a few books under a secret penname.”

“Why is it such a secret?” she asks.

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