Page 122 of Rejected By My Shifter Billionaire
Like, seriously.
How could a 98.7% compatibility score lead to a week of absolute silence?
“These new applications look good,” I said, scrolling through profiles that read like a supernatural classified section. “Did you send those priority profiles to Mr. Block of Ice like I asked?”
“Yep! Sent them to Mr. Block of Ice just like you said.” Ada pushed her purple-rimmed glasses up her nose. “But I still stand by my words. Captain Permafrost is better.”
“Call him whatever you want, just not to his face.”
“I would never!”
I wished I could say I believed that. I really did. But with Ada, one really never knew.
My phone buzzed with another text from my mother asking when I was bringing my “prince” home for dinner. I’d been avoiding family meals specifically to dodge those conversations,which meant I’d also been avoiding the possibility of running into Nicolo at home.
Pathetic? Absolutely.
Necessary for my sanity? Also absolutely.
“I’m going to grab coffee,” I announced, needing air and movement and anything that didn’t involve sitting still with my thoughts.
“Can you get me one of those lavender honey lattes that smell like fairy gardens?” Ada asked, twirling a pen between her fingers so fast it became a blur. “The ones that make vampires sneeze? I have a date with that cute Viver from accounting tonight and I want to make sure he’s not secretly evil-evil.”
“Sure thing. Testing potential dates for vampirism. Totally normal Tuesday activity.”
The walk to the coffee shop gave me twenty minutes of blessed distraction, but the moment I returned to my office, and I caught a familiar whiff, a scent...
Nicolo.
He was here, finally, and hope flared in my chest at the thought.
Was he finally ready to talk about what happened—
“You’re back,” Ada cried out when she spotted me.
Oh yes, I so was, and...and so was he, and everything was going to be okay again.
I set Ada’s latte on her desk, trying to project calm competence. “Nicolo’s here, isn’t he?”
“How did you—never mind.” Ada looked at me anxiously. “He’s at Conference B, and he wants to talk to you.”
“Okay.”
I was about to walk past her when my assistant grabbed my arm. “Please be careful.”
I couldn’t help smiling, but this only made Ada look evenmoreanxious.
“I’m serious. He doesn’t look his usual self.”
“What does he usually like?”
“Hard?”
“And now?”
“Harder?”
Right.
