Page 62 of Dr. Stone (Billionaires’ Club #9)

FIFTY

Jace

Unfortunately, I had to wait until tonight after work to see Andie, as her spa weekend with the girls had kept her tied up until this morning.

And yeah, it sucked knowing she was just a short jog down the beach from me, but I had to be patient, even though I was crawling out of my damn skin with the need to just get this over with.

I’d never been in a real relationship before, which meant I’d never gone through a real breakup either.

So, how exactly does someone go about getting another person back?

Flowers? That felt like a slap in the face.

A text or phone call? Even worse, in my opinion.

None of that shit felt sincere to me. It just felt like avoiding the risk of getting kicked in the balls for fucking things up.

So, after overthinking every possible angle, I knew there was only one way to handle this, and that was to show up, in person, and hope like hell that there was still a chance.

Still, the nerves were brutal. I didn’t know what she was feeling or if she just needed more time to heal.

Maybe that asshole had completely wrecked her trust in me after revealing my obnoxious past, and she decided I wasn’t worth the risk.

I had no idea, but whatever doubts or insecurities were bubbling up in my head, I wasn’t going to let them stop me.

I was going to see her face-to-face tonight and hope there was still a chance at reconciliation.

A knock on my door alerted me to Jake. “Are you up for drinks tonight?”

I closed the chart of the patient I was reading stats on before I left the office for the day to do my final rounds. “Nah, man. I’m going to see Andie after I finish my patient rounds,” I said, standing and stretching my back.

“You didn’t text her?” Jake questioned with a concerned expression.

“That’s a cheap way to re-enter her life, dude, so, no,” I said. “I’m just going to swing by her place after I’m done here. Drinks can wait for another time.” I smiled, still nervous but confident.

“You dumbass,” he glanced at his Rolex, then shook his head at me. “Why wouldn’t you text or call her?”

“I told you, I think it’s too impersonal. I need to see her. After everything she’s been through alone because of the mess from my past being used to manipulate her? I owe her more than a text or some bullshit phone call.”

“Well, can you move patients around to clear your schedule for next week?”

“Huh?” I stared at him as if he’d grown two heads.

“Probably, but why would I do that?” I stared at his expectant expression, “And, no. I’m not going to the wedding.

Seb and I already talked about it. He knows I’m happy for him and Darcy, and he also knows that I don’t do events like that unless I’m forced to. ”

“What if Andie is wheels up on the Asters’ private jet as of thirty minutes ago to celebrate the upcoming nuptials of Mr. and Mrs. Sebastian Aster V?”

“You’re fucking with me, right?” I said, shocked that she would be heading to Croatia. “What are the fucking odds?”

“The odds are forever in your fucking favor if you reschedule patients and show up on that damn yacht next week with me and the guys to join our women—and your woman.”

I sighed, then gave Jake a tired smile. “So, this is my future now, having a woman I apparently can’t live without?”

Jake smirked. “Worse,” he said with a chuckle.

“Wait until you come home from one of those long days at the hospital, and she’s standing in the kitchen wearing nothing but chocolate sauce in some swirly edible design, telling you that if you missed dinner, at least dessert is waiting for you.

” He grinned wider, eyes drifting off like he was reliving a memory.

“Let me guess,” I said. “That was Ash’s thank-you present to you for bankrolling their lavish spa day, after which my lady was kidnapped and whisked off to Croatia?”

“My bankroll is her bankroll, of course. But you’re right, and that chocolate sauce will not be soon forgotten,” he said, licking his lips absently and shaking his head.

“Oh, and she’s not your lady just yet, my friend.

You still have to prove your desperate-fool-in-love worth and show up like the Prince Charming you think you are by coming on that yacht with us. ”

I sat back down at my desk and opened my calendar, making sure I could move my patients around to travel the fucking world and get the girl back.

“I’ve got one I might have trouble moving on Monday, but other than that, I don’t see any issues,” I said, already thinking of ways to work around my tricky appointment.

“Well, I suppose my parents aren’t going to have any problems accepting Andie now, especially since she’s the only reason I’ll be giving in to their nagging about showing up to this event in the first place. ”

“Are you booking a flight?” Jake asked. “I mean, I don’t want to sound like a spoiled little rich boy about this, but a private jet is the only way I’ll fly all the way over there.”

“You don’t need to worry about sounding like one, you are one.

And so am I, apparently, because I completely agree with you.

No matter how hard we try to fight it, being spoiled little rich boys is exactly why we end up stuck having to do shit like this.

” I chuckled, “I’ll hit up my parents. They’re flying out Tuesday. ”

“If you could’ve gone a day earlier, you could’ve flown on Jim’s party jet,” he chuckled. “Oh, well, lover boy.”

“It’s a kill two birds with one stone situation this time,” I shrugged. “I’ll get my parents to understand how serious I am about this woman, and that I’m not going to allow any family drama at all. If they have a problem with her, then it’ll be a problem with me.”

Jake nodded. “At least they’ll have one of their playboy sons settled down and not actively threatening to ruin the family name with scandals ,” he teased with wide, humored eyes.

“No shit,” I laughed. “Perhaps that is how I should lead into this with them. I swear to God, I’m not about to listen to any shit from them.”

“Look at our brave, young, and newly-converted-to-love soldier, so bold and energized and ready to take on the family name,” he taunted. “Careful, Stone. You’re kind of turning me on.”

“I’ll see you guys on Tuesday when we land,” I answered. “And I’ll get Sebastian’s information for the chopper to retrieve me from the airport and bring me to wherever the fuck he’s got the yacht.”

With that rapid change of plans, and my ass still stunned that Andie was already on her way to Croatia with the ladies, I decided that after my rounds, I’d start moving pieces on the board.

It was time to call my parents, loop in Sebastian, and finally put together a real plan to see Andie again.

Now, I just had to hope crashing this yacht party was enough to snatch her sexy ass back up.

If nothing else, it was at least a hell of a lot better than sending her flowers or texting, right?

“All right, little stooge,” I said to Duke with a laugh, “time to meet your grandparents…” I couldn’t help but wonder what Mom and Dad would say about this unexpected plot twist in my life, but it was as good an intro into telling them what was happening with Andie as anything else.

And why, you might ask, was I stuck bringing Duke with me on this trip?

Easy—because Duke is a dick. Even Ash’s dad wouldn’t watch him with a house full of grandkids.

Sebastian had to check if someone on his crew could dog-sit.

On a six-hundred-million-dollar yacht, you’d be surprised what they pull off.

A dog sitter was nothing compared to the support ship offshore, staffed like a floating hotel and commuting by chopper.

So yeah—finding someone to watch a two-pound dog wasn’t the problem. Making sure it wasn’t some dude too busy trying to get laid? That was the issue. Otherwise, Duke was a good boy.

I opened the SUV door my parents sent and was hit with a wall of jet engines and hot tarmac air. Stepping out with sunglasses on, bag over my shoulder, leash in hand—Duke strutted across the pavement like he owned it.

I smirked at him, all two pounds of attitude, tail flicking, head high like he was giving the paparazzi a runway walk.

“We look like we should be on some lonely-heart bachelor reality show, Duke,” I muttered as his paws tapped with purpose.

“Slow your roll, home boy.” He stopped to sniff the back tire of a fuel truck. “Not a great idea to claim territory you can’t defend.”

Ignored me, of course.

Six-foot-three, ex-college athlete, cardiac surgeon—and here I was, crossing a runway with a Yorkie on a leash that probably cost more than my watch. Worst part? He didn’t just tolerate the attention—he thrived on it. That’s why he drove me nuts. And why, lately, he’d been cracking me up.

I adjusted my grip on the leash as he pranced up to the jet stairs, where Captain Reiner, my parents’ longtime pilot, waited with an iPad and an unmistakable smirk.

He stepped down as we approached, tall, silver-haired, and sharp in his uniform like always. The man had flown my family across continents for twenty years and had seen me in every phase of my life: hungover, injured, annoyed with this lifestyle, emotionally shut down, and completely indifferent.

What he had never seen until now was me walking a rhinestone-trimmed, attitude-filled teacup Yorkie.

“Afternoon, Jace,” he said, voice polite but laced with amusement. His eyes dropped to the dog. “New crew member?”

I arched an eyebrow. “We’re not going there, Cap. You’ve seen me in worse situations.”

Reiner chuckled. “True. At least this little guy isn’t underage and sneaking vodka on board.”

“Nah, he’s just waiting to slide into your left seat,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder.

Reiner grinned. “Now you know what it’s like flying with you.”

“Yeah, but he’s easier to train.” I smirked. “Good to see you again, Captain.”

I glanced down at Duke, who was watching me expectantly. “You’ve got legs, you know.”