Page 130 of The Billionaire's Baby
"Preoccupied?" she helpfully offers.
"You really are too kind to be real." I half laugh.
"Yeah," her forehead creases, "I get told that a lot. My friends think I am too trusting. I prefer to think I am an optimist."
"I’d settle for being a realist," I mutter.
"You do realize realists are secretly much more romantic than the rest of us?"
I scowl and she bursts out laughing. "That was a joke, but honestly, I believe there’s a grain of truth in it."
Hmph. "God, I hope not. I am as far from a romantic as you can get."
"That’s what they all say." She flashes me a huge smile. "It’s only until you meet the one, you know, and when you do, all these preconceived notions will fall by the wayside."
"So, have you met the one?"
"Not yet, but I am confident he’s not far off now either." Her grin widens, if that is at all possible. Her eyes sparkle.
Wow, she actually does believe that. If only I had half the hopefulness she has. When had I turned into such a cynical woman that I can’t believe in a happily-ever-after for myself?
On impulse, I rise to my feet and hug her. "I hope we’ll get to know each other better."
She hugs me back. "I am sure we will."
I step back and she slides off her stool, then turns to Isla. "Sienna mentioned that you have a big wedding coming up, that you might need some help with the planning?"
Isla’s jaw hardens. "I do." She doesn’t elaborate, which is strange. Isla’s the kind who loves her job so much, she only needs an excuse to run her mouth off about it.
"Whose wedding is it?" I peer into her features. "Anyone I know."
"Yeah," she blows out a breath, "Liam’s."
"Liam?" I frown, "Weston’s older brother? But I thought…"
She glowers at me. "What? What did you think?"
"That you and he…"
Her glare deepens. "That he and I…?" she prompts, and I cough.
"Nope. Nothing. Forget I said anything."
"Honestly, all of you’ll going on about Liam and me... How many times do I have to say, there’s nothing there?"
Right. "So why do you look so pissed off?"
"Probably because I’m not pissed enough."
She turns around to the bartender. "I’ll have what they’re having," she snaps, "and make sure you top up their glasses too."
I exchange glances with Ava, who’s watching Isla with a look of concern. "You okay, Iz?"
"Of course, I am." She flashes us a too-bright smile that’s patently false.
"Have you spoken to Liam?" I prod. "Maybe if you told him how you felt about him—?"
"Feel?" She scoffs, "I have no feelings for him. Hell, I barely know the man."
