Page 34 of The Activist and Her Billionaire

“Double vodka straight up,” she sulks.

I raise my eyebrows.

“I am just kidding,” she gushes. “Carrot apple juice, please. Black coffee. Avocado toast. That’s all.”

“Unsweet iced tea,” I say. “Three eggs, poached. Thanks.”

“No bread?” she asks. “Are you one of those no-carb fiends?”

“I am indeed,” I say.

The rest of the breakfast passed without further incident. We hashed out an agreement to co-exist. As long as she doesn’t call me outside our regular status reports, I’ll keep her in the deal.

It feels like a century since I’ve worked out. After leaving Adrianne in Huntington Beach, I decided to go running on the beach and then hit the office. I put the top down on the Porche and let the breeze blast me as I returned to Santa Monica. I stopped first at my house on 22nd Street and changed into my running clothes. There’s a good chance I might hurl the eggs I ate; I intend to push myself while I do some soul-searching - a little exorcising and exercising.

The fact that I miss Brynne like crazy is taking me by surprise. I’m not the relationship type. I don’t do this. And it would not be fair of me to chase her if it’s just me lusting after maybe the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.

I also need to step back while the inn thing is up in the air. The inn’s future demolishment is still an issue that can’t be ignored.

But I can’t leave it as I left it this morning, either. I must beg Brynne to forgive me for cutting out without telling her why.

I drive down to the beach and go for it. I am dripping with sweat about twenty-five minutes in, having burned off the last of my breakfast. I’m sitting on the sea wall catching my breath when I see “Surfer Dude” Todd waxing his board. I don’t knowif he saw me, but something within, maybe a softening heart, prompts me to say hello.

“Todd?” I ask as I approach, hand extended.

He cuts his eyes at me. I don’t blame the guy for being mournful over Brynne. We may live in totally different worlds, but we definitely agree when it comes to her.

“Mind if I sit down?” I ask.

“Probably should,” he says. “You’ve been going strong for the last hour. Ever thought about taking up surfing? It’s pure cardio and burns way more calories than the way you torture yourself with that insane running. It’s also isometric, so you get buffed doing it.”

I shrug. “I only run in the sand for resistance,” I say. “Replaces a leg day.”

“I’ll paddling against the tide over running in the sand every time,” he says. “And no joint issues.”

I don’t push back. I leave his win alone.

“So, Brynne’s hearing is this Friday,” I start.

“Which one?” he shakes his head. “She has so many irons in the fire, and then she goes and backs them up with wild stunts.”

He tilts his head to the sky.

“Friday is going to be a waste of time for her, isn’t it?” he asks me pointedly.

I regard him gravely.

“So, the next time she asks me to be her process server, I should tell her to keep the dough, shouldn’t I?” He returns my gaze. “I told her to take the money she inherited from the inn and invest it. Rent a room and live free.”

“You really told her that?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says. “No material thing is worth the hassle. Time is precious. There are better ways to spend it. And before you get any ideas, I am not interested in being used to talk sense into her.”

“It didn’t even cross my mind,” I assure him.

“Sure, it did,” he says, unable to mask the disdain on his face. “At one time or another. And then, here you are, seducing Brynne to get her to change her mind.”

“I promise you it’s not like that,” I say.

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