Page 11 of The Billionaire's Paradise

Rashida didn’t even blink. “Ugh. I hate rowing. It’s just synchronized overcompensating. Let them have their little strolls down memory lane. Trust me, they don’t mean a thing.”

“But I don’t want Cal strollinganywherewith that man, not down memory lane and least of all to lunch! Why are we even letting Cal share sides of asparagus and Brussels sprouts with this guy?”

She gave me a knowing smile. “Because Cal has to learn this one on his own. You can’t teach someone not to burn their tongue on soup. You just have to let them do it.”

I collapsed into the armchair across from Cal’s desk. “Why are you always so cryptic?”

“Because I’m a goddamn angel,” she said sweetly. “It’s part of the curriculum. First you learn how to be cryptic, then they introduce wisdom, and by the time you’ve studied all that, you’re ready for divine intervention. Speaking of which—surrogacy update.”

I sat up. “Wait—Cal told you?”

“Cal doesn’t have to tell me anything. Ijust knowthings. Geez, do I need to tell you more about celestial college?”

“No.”

“Good.”

She sat in Cal’s chair, whipped a sleek folder from a briefcase that seemed to come from nowhere, and slid it across the desk.

“I’ve taken the liberty of booking your first meeting. You’reseeing a firm calledTrue Path Family Planning. They’re discreet, established, and nobody there owns a ring light. Your case manager will be a woman named Tessa—very calm, very competent, looks like she teaches Pilates but secretly reads court transcripts for fun.”

I stood from the armchair and stepped up to the desk. “Youalreadybooked it?”

“Tomorrow morning at ten. It’s in Cal’s calendar. I’ll be telling him this afternoon, once he’s done mistaking Hal’s charisma for competence. It happens.”

“You’re amazing.”

“I know.”

She stood, gave one of the roses in the vase a gentle pat, then straightened the bouquet and stepped back to admire it like she’d just hung the Mona Lisa.

“There. It’s nice to see something bright and full of life in this office for once. Just wait till there’s a bassinet in the corner and spit-up on the Armani.” With a wink, she smiled. “It’s gonna be chaos. And it’s gonna be beautiful. Trust me.”

CHAPTER 4

The skyline shimmeredbeyond the windows, quiet and endless. I stood in the living room with my arms crossed, shifting my weight while trying not to check the time for the sixth time in three minutes.

Cal was late.

Notlatelate. Just enough to make me wonder if Rashida had told him and he’d decided to make a sprint for Canada.

The lock clicked. I straightened.

The door opened—and there he was. Cal stepped inside, eyes wide, tie crooked, and a strange energy radiating off him as if he’d been trapped in an elevator with a mime for the last two hours.

“Hi,” he said, dropping his keys into the bowl with absolutely none of his usual suave timing. They bounced out and hit the floor.

I stared at them. Then at him. “Are you okay?”

He nodded too fast. “Fine. Yes. Totally fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine?”

“You look pale.”

“I’m not pale. I’m just—”

“Nervous?”

“I’m not nervous,” he said, yanking off his tie. “I’m just… processing.”