Page 21 of Dr. Stone (Billionaires’ Club #9)
TWENTY
Andie
“That’s my final sale before I’m out of here for the weekend,” I told Ash while shutting down my computer and turning to grab my purse.
“Just that?” She chuckled, leaning over to pick up Duke in the cute carrier I bought for him.
“Listen, me encouraging that couple to spend an extra five hundred thousand on your Ashley Original is just another day in the shop, honey-pie,” I said with a wink, walking around my desk and over to her.
“It still blows my mind that my paintings sell for so much money,” she said. “I sometimes wonder if it’s because I’m Jake Mitchell’s wife and Jim Mitchell’s sister-in-law.”
I shook my head and sighed. “Don’t be self-deprecating.
Maybe some people buy your work because you’re married into a family with notoriety, but don’t sell yourself short.
Your work sells for that amount because it’s more than just a painting.
There’s so much behind your brushstrokes and the images you bring to life. ”
“Well, thank you, and I don’t mean to put myself down, but it’s just surreal…” She paused and gazed around the shop. “These are all the things I would paint at home in a garage and then throw an old blanket over them to save them from dust.”
“And that’s why you can’t understand why your talents are worth what they’re worth,” I responded. “You’re too close to your work to see what everyone else sees and feels.”
“You’re probably right.” She laughed. “Okay, enough about that. You need to get out of here. When does Titus plan to leave?”
“Before we get into Titus,” I interrupted. “I have to tell you, after a week of Duke settling in and basically becoming the man of the house, he’s picked up one habit I can’t seem to break.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“He’s obsessed with stealing Brandon’s favorite toy, this little plush airplane.
He doesn’t chew it up or anything. He just runs around the house like it’s a game.
I’m pretty sure he’s trying to get Brandon to chase him, but obviously, that isn’t going to happen.
” I glanced down at Duke in his carrier, looking like a guilty little culprit.
“The worst part is it turns into a full-blown drama. Brandon gets mad, Duke barks at him, and I end up taking the toy away from both of them just to stop the chaos.”
“I’ll keep an eye on that.” She glanced into the carrier. “He’s such a cutie, and I’m excited to have him and Brandon for the weekend.”
“Aside from my parents, you and Jake are the only people I trust with my little guys while I’m doing ridiculous things like being whisked away to Costa Rica.”
“Oh, don’t you dare start that.” She crossed her arms and forced the sternest gaze she could muster.
“You’re not doing anything wrong by going away for the weekend and allowing your good friends to babysit.
This is all normal behavior in the dating world of single moms. You can’t sacrifice your life, or you’ll go insane, be unhappy, and ultimately make your kid unhappy. ”
At precisely five o’clock, the doorbell rang. Titus’s driver was right on time, ready to whisk me away to whatever elaborate plan he had orchestrated this time.
Titus never called or texted ahead, which made it feel more like a scene from some rom-com than real life.
The whole mysterious-billionaire bit he played was almost laughably over the top, but I had to admit I loved it.
Every surprise, every gift, every ride on a private jet or helicopter was ridiculous in the most surreal way.
It was like I’d stepped into someone else’s fantasy, and I didn’t mind staying awhile.
The driver pulled onto the private tarmac that led to where Titus’s jet stood waiting in the hangar.
The steps were down, and the red carpet was already set and prepared, likely because Titus had already boarded.
I went through the side door to meet with TSA and was then led to where Titus’s luxurious jet waited.
I walked over to the plane. It was a dark metallic gray with a subtle gold stripe running its length. It was elegant and commanding, just like Titus Hawk.
I smiled at his captain, who had a formal and calculated demeanor to make you feel like you were stepping into something rare.
“Good evening, Ms. Andie,” he said with a small, professional smile. “We’re honored to have you on board with us again.”
“Thank you,” I answered, shocked that the man remembered me from the last trip. Then again, I’m sure Titus demanded that from everyone in his flight crew.
Before I could take the first step up the staircase, Titus appeared through the doorway of the jet. He was devastatingly handsome in his black open-collar shirt and tailored slacks.
The breeze caught the edge of his jacket, and for a moment, he looked like something out of a dream that belonged to someone wealthier, bolder, and far more reckless than me.
I had to push those thoughts away like Ash advised so that I wouldn’t feel like an imposter and would be able to enjoy myself. But seriously, this was insanity.
As I walked up, Titus descended the steps to meet me halfway. “You came,” he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Well, you did send a driver and a jet,” I replied, raising an eyebrow. “I figured saying no would’ve been rude.”
“If you would have said no, perhaps you’d find out just how rude I could be.”
“Trying to intimidate me?” I playfully responded.
“Never. Just trying to inform you that I do not play games when it comes to ensuring I spend time with you.”
My breath caught with the way his golden eyes became dark and mysterious, looking almost like melting honey.
He reached out and took my hand with his warm, steady grip.
We stepped into the cabin, and I felt the shift instantly, just like the first time I’d boarded his private jet.
The tranquility enveloped me—the scent of leather and expensive cologne mingled with the soft glow of ambient lighting, making everything feel intimate.
“Come. Sit,” he said, leading me to the cream leather seat beside his. “We’re just about to take off. Are you comfortable?”
“More than,” I smiled at him.
“Good,” he murmured, leaning in just enough to make my skin spark. “Because I’ve been waiting all day to see you.”
My heart was thudding as I sank into the seat.
Titus leaned over and, without pause, buckled me in himself, fingers grazing my waist while his golden eyes stayed on mine.
Even when we first started dating, it seemed like I was constantly trying to catch my breath and work through my nerves around him.
It got to the point that I thought about rejecting future dates with the man because it was exhausting, like running a goddamn marathon.
Now, I was much better. Spending the weekend at his resort in Mexico had worked most of the jitters out of my system.
Still, I couldn’t ignore everything, especially when he loved to turn up the heat with that low, smooth voice and those subtle brushes of skin against mine.
Just enough to stir a longing for more but never quite enough to cross the line.
Just as Titus finished buckling me in, the cockpit door opened with a soft click. “Mr. Hawk,” the captain greeted before he stepped into the cabin with the kind of quiet authority that came from flying royalty, dignitaries, and men who owned their own islands.
“We’re cleared for takeoff on runway two. The weather is smooth all the way to Costa Rica, and the estimated flight time is five hours, twenty-one minutes.”
Titus gave him a nod. “Thank you, Grant.”
The captain turned to acknowledge me politely. “Again, it’s a pleasure to have you on board, Ms. Miller,” he said with a faint smile, then looked back at Titus. “The cabin has been prepped as requested. Let us know if you need anything before takeoff.”
“Splendid,” Titus replied, his hand resting casually on the armrest between us, fingers brushing mine.
“Let Sandy know that once we’re in the air, we would like champagne service and have the chef begin preparing the meal I requested right away.
Other than that, we’re ready whenever you’re cleared for takeoff. ”
The captain gave a nod and disappeared into the cockpit, the door quietly shutting behind him.
Once we were at cruising altitude, the cabin shifted from a subtle vibration to a smooth, floating silence. Titus unbuckled my belt and stood, offering his hand like he was inviting me to dance instead of dine.
“Follow me,” he said. “I’m sure you remember the food will be better than anything you’ve had on land.”
“Of course,” I chuckled, happy he was done with whatever business had interrupted him after the captain left us and the plane took off.
He led me to a small dining nook by the expansive, tinted windows. The table was already set—champagne poured into crystal goblets beside silver chargers, while a bottle that looked older than I was rested, perfectly chilled, in a bucket of ice.
“Forgive my lack of manners earlier. I did not intend to ignore you and stare at an unwelcomed email from the moment we took off until now,” he said, somewhat annoyed.
“Oh, please. It was fine,” I brushed off his apology and sipped my champagne.
“It was not fine,” he answered. “I give my attention to business only when intended and scheduled. I do not believe in wasting time—mine or anyone else’s. So, when work attempts to interfere with my personal life, I see it as an inconvenience and a lack of respect for something I value deeply.”
“Ah,” I smiled at him, watching his perfectly full lips take a sip of his champagne with his natural air of supreme confidence. “Well, if your time is more important than what keeps this beautiful plane in the air and us on it, how could you view that as a waste?”