“Are you telling me you’re—” I gather a breath because imagining it feels unreal, let alone saying it out loud. “—a billionaire?”
“Not me. My dad.” He says it like it makes a difference.
“It’s going to be all yours one day.”
“Lucky me.” His tone is dry.
My mind can’t comprehend that his father runs a billion-dollar empire. I look at the throng of guests with new eyes, feeling like an alien among them. “Am I in a room full of millionaires and billionaires, Nathan?”
His lips press together in a line. It’s all the confirmation I need.
My mouth opens to ask him if we can skip meeting his parents. Right then, we stop before a group of three sharply dressed men and two women. Each holding a sparkling drink in their hands.
“Hey, Ma,” Nathan greets, making their conversation halt.
I shift, hiding behind his broad back.
“Hi, sweetheart,” a silky voice says. “Where did you go? I was looking for you.”
“I want you to meet someone special.”
I’m pulled to stand by our interlaced hands to join the small circle. Timidly, I glance up, locking eyes with a beautiful woman. I can’t pinpoint her age. Draped in a golden cocktail gown that hugs her slim figure, she gives me a friendly smile.
“Ma, this is Iris.”
I slip my hand out of Nathan’s to greet her.
“Namaste, Aunty,” I murmur at the same time she leans forward, making me freeze awkwardly with my hands between us. I drop them as I realize she’s air-kissing my cheeks one by one like rich people do.
Besides me, I catch the others exchanging a funny look.
My cheeks burn in embarrassment.
“Hello, nice to meet you,” Nathan’s mom says. “Do you study with Nathan?”
It takes all of my strength to maintain eye contact with her, let alone form a reply. Especially, when the elderly man standing next to her zooms his laser sharp eyes on me. I’m scrutinized from head to toe with a calculating expression.
Even while wearing the most expensive dress in my wardrobe, I feel cheap.
Of course I do, they’re all freaking billionaires!
Most could buy a state as if it cost a penny.
The man, despite his beer gut and crinkles in the corners of his eyes, stands out among the rest, an untouchable air aroundhim. Pretty certain he’s Nathan’s dad. Unlike his wife, there’s no jovial vibe wafting from him.
“Or is she one of yourdates?” He directs the question at his son, almost spitting the last word out with slight disgust.
Nathan tenses.
Without thinking, I run my thumb over the pulse on his wrist until he relaxes.
“No, Dad,” he replies. My breath hitches as he reveals, “Iris is my girlfriend.”
His father’s gaze widens a fraction before he masks it from his companions, who are listening intently. How big of a player does he think his son is?
“That’s so wonderful to hear,” his mother utters with a grin, cutting the tension between the two men. “I can’t wait to know you, Iris. Perhaps over lunch tomorrow?”
Oh no!