Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
I laughed.
“I’m serious. Break up with my sister, or I will cash that check.”
I shook my head. “You know you can’t just walk into the bank—”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll wait for the funds to clear. I know you’re good for it.” He put his wallet back into his pocket. “Call my sister right now, break it off, and you can void the check.”
“I could call the—”
“All you have to do is break up with my sister.” He held my stare, not a single flicker of humor there. No indication that he would back down or declare it all a prank.
He was forcing me into a decision.
He was forcing me to realize…
I loved Charlotte more than I loved a single thing I possessed.
Well, I would miss my apartment, my resorts, and my bespoke suits, but I could live without them.
“No. Enjoy the money. I can hand you the keys to this apartment, too, if you want them. But there’s no way in hell that I’m breaking up with Charlotte.”
Scott stood in front of me, waiting for me to change my answer.
He could wait forever.
I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t going to defend myself or my decision. And I certainly wouldn’t change my mind.
With a deep breath, he took the check from his pocket and unlocked his phone.
“What are you doing?” I asked. “Mobile deposit?”
The corner of his mouth quirked up, but he didn’t fully smile. “Don’t panic, I’m covering the routing and account numbers with my thumb.”
The phone made a camera clicking sound. He checked the picture, put his phone away, and ripped the check in half.
“I’m so lost right now,” I said, watching the torn paper drift to the floor.
“You better burn that,” he advised. “Writing ‘void’ or shredding it? Someone will put it back together for thirty billion.”
“What just happened?” I went to the sofa and flopped down on it.
“What just happened is that you proved that you were willing to give up billions for my sister. That should put her mind at ease when I tell her.” He tucked his wallet into his pocket.
“Shouldn’t I be the one who tells her?” I could get on a plane, show up at her house, declare my love in the rain, weather permitting.
“Nope,” Scott says firmly. “Don’t talk to her until I get a chance to. Trust me. If you want her to come back to you, take my advice and wait for her to make the next move.”
It would be difficult. It felt impossible. But Scott knew his sister better than I did, so I trusted him to fix this. “Fine. But you’re staying for lunch. We still have things we need to discuss.”
Like how the hell anyone could fall for my sister.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
(Charlotte)
“You walked away from a billionaire.”
“I guess I did.” I didn’t pause in unpacking my suitcase. I couldn’t take the look I knew I’d see on Sarrah’s face.
I used to argue that money could buy happiness. That people who said otherwise were naive or had never needed money. It sucked to find out that money didn’t buy happiness, after all.
“A literal billionaire. Like, you could be jetting off to Paris on the weekends to buy diamonds, but you chose to come back here?”
“How many times are you going to ask the same question in different ways?” I slammed a drawer shut hard enough to rock the stuff on top of my dresser. I couldn’t avoid looking at her anymore.
Sarrah sat on my bed, her hands gripping the edge of the mattress. “I guess until I understand why you ran away from a rich guy that you like.”
Love. I loved him, and that’s what made this slow slide into our inevitable breakup so hard for me.
Not hard for him, apparently. I’d tried to call him the moment I got off the plane. He hadn’t answered. Then, when I’d gotten home, I’d sent a text. Read, but not returned. Maybe he wasn’t worried about our relationship because I told him not to be. Or maybe he was secretly glad I’d gone home, and he wouldn’t ever speak to me again.
“You keep focusing on the rich part,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, because I’m broke, and I don’t understand what’s happening. I would peace out on my entire life if a guy like that wanted me sewn to his hip.” Her long, beaded earrings jangled as she shook her head at my foolishness.
“There’s no way to convince you about this without it sounding clichéd, but… He doesn’t love me as much as he loves his money.” My voice choked off, and I forced myself, through great effort, not to burst into tears.
My best friend’s demeanor changed instantly. “He said that to you? He had the nerve—”
“Not in those exact words.” I should be fair to him. “But he said it was ‘poetic, but unrealistic’ for someone to give up their wealth for love.”