Page 79 of The Billionaire's Paradise

“Or a cult,” Mr. Banks added from the floor. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I once started a cult in Peru, but I got tired of everyone wanting to touch my feet so I left. I think my followers are still there, swaying cross-legged and waiting from my return. Poor little lambs.”

Tilly laughed, crossing the room to help Mr. Banks up from the floor. “Well, it’s good to see nobody’s changed.”

“Mr. Banks has,” said Angus. “He’s got a girlfriend now.”

“Not that Angus is at all jealous,” Rashida reminded him firmly.

Tilly beamed at Mr. Banks. “Is that true? Good for you, tiger. Who is she?”

“An old flame,” he answered. “And a princess.”

“Of course she is. I’d expect nothing less from you.”

“Enough about Mr. Banks and his booty call,” said Angus, waving that conversation away. “What are you doing here? We all thought you were traveling the world, weighing up which university to attend.”

“I was. And I decided. University of Hawai?i at Manoa inHonolulu. Marine Biology,” Tilly declared, standing taller, like the moment deserved a podium and a microphone. “I start next week.”

Gasps, cheers, and one high-pitched squeal from Angus filled the room.

“You’re moving to Oahu?” Rashida asked. “That’s amazing!”

“But you’ll come visit?” Mrs. Mulroney asked, eyes wide with panic.

“Of course I’ll visit,” Tilly said, patting her arm. “I’ll fly over every now and then, plus holidays, plus any time Matt looks like he’s about to have a panic attack and needs intervention.”

“So… every weekend then,” Cal said hopefully.

“And most Tuesdays,” I added.

Tilly grinned. “You’re all hopeless disasters, and I love you dearly.”

Together we huddled in for a group hug and all let out a collective breath. The kind of breath you don’t realize you’re holding until something—someone—clicks back into place.

Tilly looked around at all of us, her eyes a little glassy with emotion. “I’m so happy to be here. I guess I just needed to see my people.”

It got quiet, for about a second and a half.

Then Cal clapped his hands and said, “Right. Enough sentiment. There’s someone you need to meet.”

Tilly raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess. Is she by any chance pregnant with your baby?”

“Her name’s Leilani,” I said. “And she’s amazing. She’s smart, warm, and a little bit chaotic in the best possible way.”

“Sounds like my kind of person.” Tilly shouldered her bag. “So, what are we standing around here for?”

We pulled up to Leilani’s place just after noon, the sky wide and blue above us, the scent of plumeria thick in the air. Tilly stood beside me, hands shoved into the pockets of her oversized cargo shorts, rocking slightly on her heels as she stared at the little house with its peeling paint, blooming hibiscus, and wind chimes that sang with every passing breeze.

Leilani opened the door before we could even knock.

She stood there barefoot, a mango in one hand, her bump in full command of the moment. Kimo and Nakoa flanked her like bodyguards who’d just come from a surf break. Tutu sat behind them in her usual spot near the window, fanning herself and watching the world like it was a movie she could watch a thousand times and never tire of.

There was a beat—just a breath—and then Tilly stepped forward.

She didn’t say anything. Neither did Leilani. They just looked at each other for a moment like two frequencies finally tuning into the same signal.

And then they smiled—as though they’d already decided they liked each other before anyone said a word.

“Let me guess,” said Leilani. “You’re Tilly. I’ve heard so much about you. I can’t wait to get to know you.”