Page 95

I enjoy my coffee as much as the conversation. “With the right person, isn’t it built on the same foundation? Some say friendship is the highest form of love. Maybe that’s what you’ve been missing in your relationships. All thef’s—fun, friendship, and … well, you know. The true secret to happiness.” I waggle my brows.
“Mmm.” He tilts his head.
A blush creeps up my neck.
I need to change the subject.
Taking a gulp of coffee, I feel my heart rate increase. I clear my throat, bringing the conversation back to the original topic.
“If love is always on time and the wrong time is sometimes right, why the contract?” I ask.
To take over the family business, the Calloway brothers were required to be married before their fortieth birthday. Weston completed his obligation at thirty-six, and Easton did just months ago with Lexi. Divorce is never mentioned, as if his grandfather never considered it an option.
“He wanted us to spend time dating and not be married to our jobs. He knew that by forty, we’d be set in our ways and less willing to change our habits. And the older one becomes, the harder it is to find someone compatible.”
My phone buzzes, and I see Lexi’s name pop up. I unlock it and read her message.
Lexi
I thought you were going home. I know you’re with Weston! WTF?!
Lexi
ALSO! WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME YOU TWO HAD DINNER AT AMBROSIA? CARLEE!
I show Weston the screen, and he chuckles as another text comes in. I catch the flicker of his reaction as he reads. The corners of his mouth twitch into a grin, but tension tightens the line of his jaw.
I read the screenshot she sent.
It’s a blind item.
Blind Item #20
Mr. Playboy Billionaire was spotted at a blacked-out bar where people go for hookups, but he left with the mystery woman he’d had dinner with the other night. Rumor has it that she’s his secret girlfriend. He cannot keep her hidden forever. People are beginning to notice.
LEXI
THAT’S ABOUT YOU! AND YOU’D BETTER TELL ME EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING! EVERYTHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING.
LEXI
I KNEW YOU TWO WERE MADLY IN LOVE!
“Oh no. She’s typing in caps and now convinced we’re madly in love.”
“I thought you had told her we left together and were having brinner,” he says.
“Brinner?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Come on. Breakfast for dinner?”
“Millennials,” I mutter. “No, I told her I wasn’t being kidnapped by some weirdo club owner and was leaving.”
“Ah, well, now you’re fucked.”
“Is that a promise?” I ask, lifting a brow.
My phone buzzes again, and as I glance down, he reaches forward and locks it, setting it on the table.