Page 66 of Billionaire Romance

"What was your major?"

Sally grimaces. "English."

I smile. "Why the face?"

"Because it's like the most basic degree you can get. A good degree for people who have no idea what they want to do with their lives."

I slowly take a sip of my wine. "I can't say that I agree with you."

Sally stops and looks at me. "You majored in English, didn't you?"

"That I did."

She curses under her breath and I laugh. She laughs too, and groans. "Oh my God I am all over the place tonight. I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize. It's not easy to tell someone else your dreams."

She looks away, out over the room, and I get distracted by the curve of her neck and the way her hair is flowing around it. "I don't think I have any."

"If I gave you a million dollars, and you didn't have to work for the foreseeable future, what would you do?"

"I—" She stops herself, thinking. It takes a second, but I wait. This is something I really want to know. What someone would do with unlimited free time says a lot about a person. More than knowing their family history or what their favorite color is.

"I'd travel," she says finally. "I've only ever been out of the country once, and that was to Canada, so it barely counts. There are so many cool and beautiful places in the world, and I'd like to visit them. Learn about them."

I nod. "So you like history?"

"Yeah, I do. I have my favorite eras, but I think everybody has that. But yeah, I'd travel."

"Do you like to write at all? You could be a travel writer."

She laughs. "I wrote a little bit in college for some classes, but I was never that good. It would be really fun though, that's for sure."

I file that away for later because the deconstructed banana split has arrived and it's just like I predicted; it's all the typical ingredients of the dessert in separate bowls that our waiter arrays in an artistic design between the two of us. Three different types of ice cream, maraschino cherries, bananas cut in half, chocolate sauce, whipped cream, nuts. "Thank you very much," I say to him.

"You’re welcome, Sir. Please let me know if I can help you with anything else." And then he disappears.

"Where do we start?" Sally asks.

I gesture to the dessert on the table. "Wherever you like."

She grabs a spoon and dips it into the bowl of strawberry ice cream. "This was a really good idea," she says. "I don't understand why more people don't do this, it's brilliant. We're adults. Having ice cream for dinner should be mandatory like once a month."

I nod, reaching for the chocolate ice cream. I don't eat ice cream that much, and so I can't help but think that she's right.

"So what would you do?" she asks. "If you weren't CEO. I mean...do you like your job? Or do you wish you could do something else?"

Laughing softly, I dab some whipped cream on top of my ice cream. "I wish someone had asked me that when I took over the company."

Her eyes go wide. "Really?"

"Really," I say. "I don't hate my job. I like our company and what it does. We do a lot of good charity work on the side of the greeting card business, and I love when I can expand that. But if I had a choice to do anything, I'd pick something simple and physical. When you do this kind of job, where relationships are talking to people all day are the staple, there's something nice in thinking about being a house painter, or something that I could leave behind at the end of the day. But as far as hobbies go, I like clay."

Sally perks up, curious. "Clay?"

"I took some ceramics and clay throwing classes when I was in college, and I always really enjoyed it. Not only is it an artistic outlet, it’s actually a workout. I try to do it sometimes still, but there's not a lot of time to take away for that kind of thing."

"That's really cool," she says. "Do you have anything you've made that you kept?"

---