Page 76 of The Billionaire's Teacher

I snickered and folded the email. “Not sure what that has to do with anything here.”

“I get subtext. I’m the king of subtext.” Tristan paused. “Maybe more like a prime minister? Something that shares the rule with others of their ilk. Because all lawyers—at least the good ones—are up on subtext.”

“Ookay. And the email has subtext?” I almost unfolded it to read again. I sure didn’t see any subtext.

“Yeah. It does. She’s interested, but not sure she should be. Or even if she wants to be. But someone convinced her she’s missing something in her life and you might just be the answer, so she’s exploring it cautiously.” Tristan picked up his cards.

Now I really wanted to look at the email again, because I definitely hadn’t seen any of that. I glanced at the other guys. “You buying that?”

Noah shrugged. “He’s a lawyer. He’s trained to see what people don’t say.”

And that totally wasn’t an answer. I stuffed the email in my pocket. I could obsess over it later. “Are we playing cards, or what?”

20

SUNSHINE

Itugged on the line around my waist that attached to the buoy floating on the water above me. The wind and waves up top were causing it to drag behind me as I swam along the reef off the shore of my beach.

Technically, solo diving wasn’t a smart decision. I knew this. I also didn’t let it stop me. I’d let a couple of neighbors know my plan. I had the buoy. And generally, nothing went wrong. Most of the time, I’d talk one of those neighbors into coming along, but today I’d wanted the peace and solitude I could only find underwater and I hadn’t even wanted the silent company of another person.

I checked my gauges. I’d been down about twenty minutes. It was probably time to turn around and swim back toward my entry point. I didn’t want to end up walking home on the beach carrying my tank. It was a lot heavier out of the water than in.

I paused and watched colorful fish dart in and out. Were they playing with one another? Fighting? Chasing food?

I’d never given a lot of thought to the why of fish behavior. Maybe there wasn’t much more motivation behind it than survival. I was pretty sure no one thought fish might be sentient. Of course, this was yet another topic I’d never bothered to investigate.

I turned, checked my compass, and adjusted my position slightly before swimming toward home. The buoy was a persistent tug around my waist. I couldn’t wait to surface and get rid of it. Especially since my dive hadn’t really brought the peace I was looking for.

Wes had responded to my email on Saturday. He’d matched the light, breezy tone of the email I sent. He was looking into buying the island where we’d wrecked. He’d dropped that into the message like it was a normal thing people did. Then again, maybe it was a normal thing billionaires did.

I needed to remember that he wasn’t like me.

In so many different ways, he was practically from an alien planet. What was I thinking, pursuing any sort of relationship with a billionaire? Even a friendship would be hard. Just look at his email. Buying islands. Planning dive trips for the winter. No mention of work in there, although the dive trips qualified as that. Maybe the island, too.

But it was no kind of work I was used to.

We’d been emailing back and forth—always light—for the last two weeks.

I reached the underwater landmarks that indicated I was at my beach and began to surface slowly. No need to rush. Nothing waited for me on shore except another day of figuring out what I was going to do with my life.

I needed to work.

The thought solidified in my mind as I ascended and my head broke through the surface of the water. I turned, orienting myself toward the shore, and began to swim. Before long, I’d reached shallower water. I paused to remove my flippers, then stood, and walked ashore. When I was clear of the water, I dropped my flippers in the sand and unhooked my BCD so I could shrug out of it and gently lower it to the ground.

I tugged off my mask and tipped my face back to the sun, letting the heat soak into my skin. I hadn’t bothered with a wetsuit. The water was warm enough to dive in just a bathing suit. On shore, however, the breeze brought out goosebumps.

I glanced around until I spotted my towel a few yards off. I hurried to it and bundled it around me. Better. My cell phone, which rested on top of my flip flops, lit up and began to ring. I dried my hand and picked it up. “Hello?”

“There you are. Where have you been?” Zee was nearly frantic.

“I went for a dive. What’s up?” Given that I’d just been hoping for work, maybe Zee’s call was exactly what I needed.

“A dive? Who with?”

“Zee. You called me?” I wasn’t going to get into it with Zee about my occasional solo dives. She didn’t approve, and I didn’t feel like a lecture.

“That means solo. You know how I feel about that. Girl—” Zee broke off and huffed out a breath. “Well, you know, so I won’t say it again. But you shouldn’t have a death wish.”

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