Page 6 of The Billionaire's Paradise

“Do that,” Cal replied. “If something’s there, we’ll pivot. But I’m not pulling the plug based on a feeling.”

“Just don’t let Hal charm you into moving faster than you should,” she warned. “Remember, some Bond villains are very likeable at the start. Except that one with the bald cat. That species makes no sense whatsoever. I think God fell asleep at the wheel that day.”

Cal cracked a smile. “You’ve made your point.”

“Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to stop Mr. Hal Chambers from trying to trademark the phrase ‘aloha, but make it luxury.’”

Rashida hung up.

The limo was quiet for a moment. Cal glanced at me.

“You have thoughts,” he said.

I took a deep breath. “I mean… itdoessound like there’s more to the land than beachfront views and mimosas. But I get it. You’re not the bad guy here.”

“I just need the facts,” Cal said. “Once we have them, we’ll do the right thing. But I can’t base billion-dollar decisions on ‘vibes.’”

“Totally,” I said. “For the record,myvibes are usually dead-on. But sure, facts are cool too.”

He gave me a look. Then reached for my hand again.

“I’m not Hal,” he said softly.

“I know,” I said. “You’re why I don’t throw up in limousines anymore.”

He laughed, and we both leaned back, the city lights catching in the windows as the car turned onto Broadway.

The lighting was low, the linen crisp, and the waiters moved so gracefully it felt like interrupting them might be a crime in France.

Cal and I arrived first.

And then Hal Chambers swept in like a popping champagne cork—loud, able to take out an eye, and completely unaware he’d just knocked over the centerpiece.

He was tanned, beaming, already laughing at something he’d just said to himself. His jacket was unbuttoned, his shirt open to mid-chest and showing off the work of a well-paid personal trainer, while his hair looked like it had just been styled by a Mediterranean breeze.

“Gentlemen!” he said, gliding into the room with open arms. “Sorry I’m late. I had a minor incident involving an artisanal foot bath and a retired Olympic diver. Long story. I won’t bore you with it now. Smells incredible in here, by the way. Is that bergamot? I love bergamot.”

It took all my strength not to reach for my phone and google bergamot.

Hal kissed the air near Cal’s cheek, clapped him on the back, and then pointed to me. “You brought the husband,” he said, eyes twinkling. “I love this guy. What’s your name again? Leo. Christopher. Pedro.”

“It’s Matt, actually.”

“That’s right. Cal told me you saved his life. That’s how you guys met. You a were bodyguard or something? Because…” He started to chuckle, unable to help himself. “Well, don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t look like a bodyguard.”

“I’m not a bodyguard. I was delivering flowers when—”

Hal burst out laughing. “Delivering flowers? Is that even a job?” He slapped my shoulder and pointed at me. “You’re a hoot, you know that?”

With that, he turned back to Cal… and I disappeared completely.

Unnervingly, the two billionaires fell into a rhythm immediately. Not in a showy way. Just easy. Effortless. Two men who clearly spoke the same language.

They talked about the land in Maui. The numbers. The opportunity. Hal tossed around phrases likevertical luxury integrationandsuperyacht marina. Cal nodded thoughtfully, asked smart questions, sometimes even pushed back. But there was a spark in his eye.

I sipped my wine.

They ordered small plates I couldn’t pronounce.