New York Billionaires Series

“Frederica, you’re called Freddie.”

“I know. But it was amusing, all the same.”

He sighs, but it’s laced with pleasure. “It’s been too long since I’ve seen you. And it’s only been a few days.”

“I’m glad you said it first.”Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

“You don’t want to admit it?” he asks.

I run a hand through my hair, wishing he was in front of me. “Yeah, I like to play hard-to-get like that. I’d hate for you to think I like you.”

“What a horrible thought,” he says. “So, you like me?”

“I might, yes.”

“Hmm. Well, I might like you too,” he says. My heart swells in my chest at the words, smooth despite the rough baritone of his voice. “And I want to take you out. Properly, on a date, just the two of us. Somewhere in New York.”

I close my eyes. “We can’t do that. We never know when someone might see us. See you, especially.”

“And that would be bad.”

“Yes, unfortunately. My co-workers, the ones I had drinks with tonight? They were gossiping about two people at Exciteur who slept together once, after last year’s holiday party. And they’re in different departments. You and me? As far as gossip goes, we’re meat and potatoes compared to that little appetizer.”

Tristan’s rich chuckle fills my ear. “We’re tastier?”

“Infinitely.”

“I understand, you know.”

“About the not-being-seen-in-public-together part?”

He hmms in agreement, and I close my eyes to picture him, sitting in the leather desk chair in his apartment. Arms crossed over his chest and a smile on his face. “We both have things to lose, but the reputational toll would be harder for you.”

“Probably true,” I admit. “Unfortunately.”

“But I won’t be the boss of Exciteur forever,” he continues. “And you won’t be the trainee forever.”

“Do you think we can… keep going until then? Hiding it?”

“I can,” he says. “I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but for you, of course I can. The question is, can you?”

My heart speeds up. “Yes. If you can, why couldn’t I?”

“Because you’re the one with a career to build, a social life to establish. I wouldn’t be giving anything up, Freddie, but you… you might be. Only seeing me in the evenings every now and then. Not dating anyone else. Because that would have to be part of it.”

“Of course,” I murmur, voice dry. His words sink in, but there’s no hesitation in me. No fears. “But I’d be gaining you, Tristan. Even if it’s only behind closed doors.”

He’s quiet for a beat, the silence heavy on the line between us. “You’re sure, Freddie?”

“All right,” he says, and now there’s a smile in his voice. “I can’t offer you champagne and candlelit dinners in restaurants around New York yet, but I can offer you home-cooked meals and companionship. Not cooked by me, really, and companionship includes my son. You’re welcome to dinner tomorrow evening if you want to.”

I have to swallow before I can answer. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he says. “He had more fun with you at the snowball fight than with me. Besides, I think he’s more observant than I give him credit for. The other day he offered to be my wingman, and I have no idea where he learned that term. He’s nine, for Christ’s sake.”

I laugh, turning on my side in the bed. “That’s sweet.”

“Or creepy. Haven’t decided yet.”

“I’ll be there, Tristan. Tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait,” he says. “You’ve turned me into a teenager, Freddie, and a few days without you are suddenly far too many.”

“Tell me about it. I work every day in a building with you in it and I can’t see you.”

“I’ve thought about bending the rules.”

I bite my lip. “More than we already have?”

“Oh yes. The past week, I conjured up ten different reasons I had to go down to Strategy.”

“I didn’t see you.”

“I didn’t go through with any of them,” he admits. “I understand how important it is for you that no one finds out. Truly, I do. So I keep myself to the thirty-fourth floor.”

“Your ivory tower,” I murmur. “Thank you for that.” We might be crossing all kinds of lines, but he has never been anything but respectful every step of the way.

He clears his throat. “Tell me more about your grandfather.”

“Yes, or your parents, or where you grew up in Philadelphia. Anything to keep me from having to answer these damn emails.”

Laughing, I turn onto my back. “I think I can save you from that fate, handsome.”

“We could go to the salad place,” I tell Quentin. “Or the sushi one next door.”

He frowns. “No, they’re always packed for lunch. Toby, do you remember when we had to stand in line for thirty minutes?”

Toby gives a noncommittal grunt from his desk.

Quentin doesn’t comment. No snide aren’t you done soon? Or what’s keeping you? Nothing at all. I glance at him, but his face gives nothing away. Still, I’m convinced something has happened. The tension between them has changed flavor.

I lean against Quentin’s desk. “How late did you guys stay at the bar the other night?”

His gaze slides to mine. “Not that late.”

“Uh-huh.” My face is neutral, but he narrows his eyes regardless. I give him an innocent look. I don’t know anything, won’t say anything. A flush creeps up his ruddy cheeks.

He turns from me to Toby. “Are you done soon?”