Page 48 of The Billionaire's Paradise

I reached the beach before I even knew where I was going. The sand was cool beneath my feet, and the sun had already risenin soft gold layers, the sky streaked with delicate, slow-moving clouds.

The calmness of the morning made me wonder if it was too early to contact Leilani yet, but before I knew it, I was typing a message on my phone.

Typing…

Deleting…

Retyping…

Then finally hitting send.

Hey, sorry if this is too early. Could really use a little quiet company. Totally understand if you’re not up yet.

Her reply came less than a minute later—

Hey, you! I’m always up for a little quiet company. Doug doesn’t let anyone sleep in around here anyway. I’ll meet you at the beach near your place. You want coffee?

I smiled.

Sounds great, thanks! See you soon.

I tucked my phone back in my pocket and wandered down the beach, the early tide curling in around my ankles. Farther up the sand, a low rock wall jutted out along the edge of the dunes—a perfect lookout point. I climbed up and perched on it, hugging my knees to my chest.

The ocean shimmered, smooth and endless, and I let myself breathe. Really breathe.

No chaotic conversations.

No noise apart from the sweep of the waves upon the sand.

Just air. And sky. And ocean.

I spotted her a short time later, walking toward me in flip-flops and a breezy tank top, her hair swept up into a messy bun. She carried two to-go cups and a small brown paper bag tucked under her arm.

“Morning,” she called with a happy grin, lifting one of the cups in salute. “I brought backup banana bread just in case we need emotional support carbs.”

“My favorite kind of carbs.”

She climbed up beside me on the wall, handed over my cup, and plonked herself down like we’d been doing this every morning of our lives.

“I got you coffee,” she said. “And I got myself a ginger-cinnamon-turmeric-chai situation. No caffeine. I don’t do caffeine.”

“No?”

She shook her head. “My energy is one hundred percent hereditary.”

We sat quietly for a moment, sipping and watching the waves roll in—slow, steady, endless. The silence between us wasn’t awkward at all. It was peaceful. Unhurried. I suddenly felt a million miles from Manhattan.

Leilani tore off a corner of the banana bread and handed it to me. “So… what’s going on in that head of yours?”

I took the sweet piece of bread, chewed it and swallowed. “How much time do you have?”

She shrugged, easy and unbothered. “As much as you need. Mornings are kind of my time—I usually sneak out early. It’s the only part of the day that’s quiet enough to hear myself think.”

I smiled. “Am I crashing your solitude?”

She grinned. “Nah. You’re good company. I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.”

I took another sip of coffee. “So… last night. I’m not really sure where to start apologizing.”