Page 20 of How to Belong with a Billionaire

I blinked up at her through soggy lashes. “But what if I don’t?”

“Poppet”—her tone sharpened—“you’re in your early twenties, having emerged from your first significant relationship. It’s a little early to conclude you’re going to die alone.”

“Half-eaten by Alsatians.” From her quizzical expression, apparently the reference hadn’t landed. I sniffed and wiped my eyes. “This is rubbish. I can’t seem to stop being pathetic.”

“Yes,” she drawled. “I’m quite disappointed. I’d been operating under the assumption that fucking me would immediately cure you of all negative emotions.”

God. I had to pull myself together, at least a little bit. George had been nothing but patient with me and I was probably about as fun as a wet sock in a duvet. I mustered what I hoped was a flirty smile. “Maybe it’s something that requires an extended course of treatment?”

“I’m game. But first”—she pressed a kiss to the top of my head and swooshed back over to the kettle—“you’ll be delighted to hear that I found some food. There’s caviar and a Pot Noodle.”

Various questions ebbed and flowed in my head. “What flavour Pot Noodle?”

“Chinese chow mein. And the caviar is Royal Oscietra, purchased from W.G. White.”

“I’ll take the Pot Noodle. I only eat caviar if it’s beluga.”

Laughing, she retrieved a familiar blue-labelled plastic pot from the back of a cupboard, tore off the top, and poured hot water inside. Then set it on the table, along with a small tin of caviar, and two cups of tea.

“There’s no milk,” she said. “Well, there’s something in the milk carton. But I wouldn’t recommend allowing it inside your body.”

“And no cutlery?” I pointed at the plastic spoon she was wielding.

She arched a brow at me. “Haven’t you read yourDebrett’syet? Metal is supposed to oxidise the caviar and damage the flavour. Nonsense if you ask me, because the stuff comes in metal tins. But mythologies are far more interesting than truths, don’t you think?”

“That’s not a question. It’s a poorly disguised epigram.”

“This is, though: You’ve never had caviar before, have you?”

“No, for two reasons. Firstly, because I’m a normal person. And secondly”—I eyed the glistening bobbles dubiously—“because it squicks me out.”

“Want some?”

“Are you trying to muscle in on my Pot Noodle?”

“I’mtryingto do you a favour. You know Mara will fire you if she discovers you haven’t had caviar.” My eyes went wide and George burst out laughing. “God, you’re easy. I’m kidding.”

I put a hand to my racing heart. “Don’t do that to me. I spend all my time convinced I’m about to be dumped as it is.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Actually, why did I feel like that? When I’d first got the job atMilieu, I’d been convinced I was perfect for it. And it wasn’t that I’d changed my mind, exactly, but something wasn’t the same. I guess it had just been so much easier to believe in myself and all that malarkey when Caspian had thought I was the bee’s knees. Not that I should have been hanging my self-esteem off him in the first place. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m not sure what I’m bringing anymore.”

“Buck up, poppet. Imposter syndrome isn’t cute.”

“Y’know”—I poked at the Pot Noodle to see if the peas were still rock solid—“it’s funny you mention that. I used to think I had imposter syndrome but then I realised I was only pretending.”

George made a sound, halfway between a laugh and a groan, and rapped me lightly on the knuckles. “Mara wouldn’t have hired you if she didn’t think she could use you. I love her to hell and back, but she’s too ambitious to be kind.”

“Well, maybe she made a mistake. My last piece was a list of the ten poshest sex toys for the website, which frankly, a teenager with access to Google could have written.”

“What,” asked George, tilting her head, “arethe ten poshest sex toys?”

“Oh, I can’t remember. Golden butt plugs, diamond-encrusted vibrators, platinum cock rings in the shape of cobras, the usual stuff. I found this spanker that cost, like, three thousand dollars.”

“For that price, I’d expect it to come with a spankee.”

“I know, right?” I sighed. “The thing is, I loveMilieu. But I got this job when I was with Caspian and everything felt like this crazy dream. And now he’s gone, I keep wondering what’s still real.”

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