Page 13 of The Billionaire’s Paradise (My Billionaire #4)

I changed my shirt three times.

First it was the pale pink button-up, because pink is soft and warm and approachable.

Then it was the navy polo, because I wanted to look like I had a job.

Then it was no shirt at all, because I overheated and panicked and started googling “what do you wear to meet your maybe surrogate via Zoom,” and the internet suggested a cashmere sweater in neutral tones, but I don’t own a cashmere sweater in neutral tones. Or in any tones.

In one hand I was holding a small stack of cue cards, organized by topic: Shared Values , Parenting Philosophy , and What We Bring to the Table Emotionally .

Cal raised one eyebrow. “Are we selling a baby or pitching a start-up?”

“It’s called being prepared,” I said, fanning the cards with a flourish. “She seems amazing, and I don’t want to screw this up by being my usual flailing self who says something like, ‘Do you believe in ghosts?’ in the first five minutes.”

He stepped closer, eyes softening as he began subtly fussing with my blazer. “Hey. We’re not trying to impress her. We’re trying to connect with her. And can we please roll your sleeves down, you look like Huey Lewis.”

I exhaled as he rolled my sleeves down. “Okay, but if she asks what kind of dads we’ll be, what do I say? I mean, I know the truth—chaotic, affectionate, slightly underqualified—but I don’t want to lead with that.”

Cal laughed gently and pulled me toward the stools by the kitchen counter. “Just be you. Be us. She’ll feel that.”

He sat down and opened his laptop up on the counter. “Also, you might wanna lose the blazer altogether. You’re sweating through it.”

I checked.

I was.

I peeled it off quickly and looked down self-consciously. “Now I feel naked.”

“You’re wearing a T-shirt.”

“A T-shirt that I’ve worn to bed before. I’m practically inviting her into our bedroom… to make a baby!”

“Relax. You look like you,” he said. “And that’s perfect.”

There was a quiet moment. Then he added, a little too casually, “Do I look okay?”

I turned to him. Cal never asked that. Cal never had to. He lived his entire life looking like he belonged in a designer fragrance ad.

But I saw it—the tightness in his jaw, the way his fingers tapped a silent rhythm on the trackpad. He was nervous too. Just hiding it better.

“You look great,” I said gently. “Just don’t lead with any Wall Street buzzwords.”

“I wasn’t going to,” he said .

“You were.”

“Yeah.” He smiled sheepishly. “Okay. No Wall Street buzzwords. No budget jokes. No trying to sound like anything but us.”

I took a breath and nodded, trying to believe it. The laptop chimed.

Incoming Zoom: Leilani Kauhi.

Cal clicked accept .

And suddenly our future appeared on the screen, smiling, sunlit, and very, very real.

“Hi!” said the young woman on the screen, waving with both hands. “Can you hear me?”

“Hi!” Cal and I both said, a little too enthusiastically.

She smiled, relieved. “Oh good, it’s working. My mom’s router sometimes likes to take a nap. It’s an island thing.”

She had long dark curls pulled back in a braid and a radiant face with no makeup. She was sitting outside, with lush green hills and a flash of ocean behind her, and a rooster crowed somewhere in the distance.

“I’m Leilani,” she said, her grin wide and effortless. “And just a heads up, if a chicken walks through the shot, just ignore it. That’s just Doug. He loves attention wherever he can get it.”

Matt blinked. “Is… Doug your—”

“Rooster. He’s a menace. He thinks he owns the place.” She glanced off-screen. “We’ve talked about boundaries, but he still insists on doing his own thing.”

Cal laughed first, then me. I was already a little bit in love with her.

“So,” Leilani said, folding her hands in front of her like she was about to give a toast. “I watched your profile video and first of all, you two are adorable. Like, nauseating. In a good way. Like… aspirational nausea. ”

Cal smiled, almost bashfully. I could feel the heat rising in my face.

“I just really liked how you talked about love,” she added, more gently now. “And building a family on that. It felt… real. Which I think is kind of rare when people talk on camera about serious stuff.”

My cue cards sat forgotten on the counter.

“Thank you,” I said, blinking fast. “That really means a lot.”

“Also,” she said, suddenly bright again. “I saw your list of values, and I just wanna say, I also overthink text messages and cry at Pixar movies. Don’t even get me started on Bing Bong! Gah! So, I feel like we’re already aligned.”

“That was me,” I said quickly. “The crying and the overthinking.”

“I assumed,” she said with a wink.

We all laughed again.

Then Cal, ever the steady one, leaned forward a little.

“Leilani, we loved your video too. The way you talked about your family—how supported you feel, how much joy is in your life—it really struck a chord with us. It made us think… if we’re lucky enough to go through this with someone, we want it to be someone who understands that kind of love. ”

Leilani nodded, visibly touched. “That’s really beautiful. Thank you.”

A breeze lifted a strand of hair from her forehead, and for a moment, we were just three people suspended in a quiet, gentle space together, even though we were half a world away.

“Okay,” she said brightly, breaking the spell with a grin. “Serious question. Are you prepared for the possibility that the baby may arrive already singing Broadway show tunes?”

I gasped. “I knew I should’ve worn my Sondheim shirt.”

Cal chuckled and shook his head. “We’re absolutely prepared.”

“I just want you to know,” Leilani said, lifting an imaginary microphone. “If this all works out, I plan to be the kind of birth mom who sends the kid annual birthday letters, homemade cookies, and wildly off-key videos of me singing ‘Defying Gravity.’ ”

I made a choked sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

Suddenly Leilani’s tone shifted gears, panic taking over. “Oh! But only if that’s what you want. I know everyone has different boundaries around openness, and I would never assume. I’d never want to overstep the mark, I promise. But I’d love to talk it all through. Together.”

Cal’s hand found mine under the counter.

“That sounds… incredible,” he said.

I nodded, too overcome to speak.

There was a pause. Then Doug the rooster strutted into frame, flapped dramatically, and knocked over a plastic cup.

“Doug!” Leilani barked, snatching the cup. “We’re having a moment !”

I cracked up, full-body laughter this time, and even Cal lost it beside me.

“Well,” Leilani said, turning back to us with a shrug and a smile. “That’s me. A little loud, a little messy, full of heart.”

She tilted her head. “And I’d be honored to do this with you. If you want me.”

I felt Cal squeeze my hand. I squeezed back.

“We really, really do,” we said together.