8. Truffles

Jane

I didn't know what I expected when I looked up Colton, but it certainly wasn't that. The first sentence I read—from a business magazine—almost makes me tumble out of my seat. "Billionaire Colton Green Attends Movie Premiere with Actress Layla Maybach."

It's not the fact that he went to a movie premiere that shocks me, or even that he attended with a world-famous Hollywood actress. It's the "billionaire" part that leaves me floored. I knew he was super rich. But billionaire? There aren't a ton of those in the world, right? Or at least, I don't think so. I open a second tab and begin typing. "How many billionaires are there in the world?"

The search engine tells me the answer is roughly 2,500. Not a huge number compared to the billions of people on this planet, but still more than I expected. I examine the results by country. There are around seven hundred billionaires in the US, and Colton Green—AKA my future husband for the next two years—is one of them.

No wonder he can pay me a million dollars for this gig!

Returning to my first search tab, I scroll down on the search engine results page. The only results that aren't about his work are those of him attending various events. In every article, he has a gorgeous woman on his arm. He never smiles at the camera, which is too bad. I wish I could have a picture of his glorious smile.

Okay. Now I'm starting to freak out about this date we're going on this weekend. I don't have the details yet, but I was expecting dinner at a nice restaurant—with truffles on the menu if I'm lucky. But the guy doesn't seem to go out a lot except to attend charity galas or business events. I'll make sure to ask Max where we're going and how I should dress. Not that I care what people think, but it's always awkward when you're not dressed for the occasion. This is LA, and dress codes are taken very seriously.

I click on a biography page, but it's pretty sparse. The page just says that he's British, studied computer science, moved to the US after his mother died, and used his inheritance to build his company from the ground up. Apparently, he created a cutting-edge algorithm capable of matching people for the long run, based on a deep-dive investigation of their personalities. The algorithm brought the company booming success and attracted a few high-profile investors. The Love Connected app quickly became the leading matchmaking app in the US and Europe. All of that in less than a decade.

This sheds light on a few things, but it doesn't tell me much about the man himself. I guess we'll just have to do this the old-fashioned way, which is fine by me. Because I'm going on a "date" with him soon, and I'll be able to ask him all my questions.

Colton and I have been sitting at the table for fifteen minutes. Except for some small talk with the waiter, he hasn't said a word. He's wearing a suit again, light gray this time. The shade matches his eyes perfectly. I went for a little black dress and the only pair of stilettos I own.

"Have you been here before?" I venture, unable to stand the awkwardness.

"A few times, yes," he says without looking up from his menu.

I shift in my chair. "Okay. What's good?"

"Everything."

"Great."

He raises his eyes from the leather booklet. "At least, everything I've ever tried."

He's not smiling, but his tone is softer. It's a start.

"Have you chosen your meal?" the waiter asks, his sudden appearance making me jump.

Colton nods and glances at me.

"I'll have the truffle linguine," I say, closing my menu.

"For me, the chateaubriand, medium rare, with roasted broccoli." Colton takes my menu and hands them back to the waiter, who nods and walks away.

He lifts his eyebrows. "Truffles, huh? Isn't that your cat"s name?"

I'm surprised he remembers. "Yeah."

"Is that why you called her Truffles? Because you like the mushroom?"

I wince. "Is it that obvious?" I say with a laugh.

He breathes a low chuckle in reply.

"So, I read about you online," I say. "I didn't know you were such a nerd. Now I kind of understand why you're so brooding and quiet all the time."

He shoots me a curious stare and takes a sip of his drink. "I'm not a nerd. And I'm not brooding. What kind of research did you do, exactly?"

I shrug. "The basics. I just wanted to know who I would be living with, and it said you created some kind of unique algorithm."

He gives a firm nod. "I did. It's a program that matches compatible personalities. You enter details about yourself, watch videos, answer questions, play mini games, et cetera. Then, it selects suitable matches based on the data. But I'm not going to bore you with the nerdy details," he says with a smirk.

His quip makes me smile. "I wouldn't understand a thing anyway. I don't even own a smartphone, so . . ."

"You will soon," he says.

"Oh, that's not necessary." I take a sip of water. "I've lived all my life without one."

His dark eyes bore into mine, and I have no choice but to look away. Fire prickles beneath my cheeks. "I've already bought it," he says.

"Well, you can return it."

He leans back in his chair. "There was a sale. No refund."

Yeah, right. Like I'd believe that. I'm pretty sure billionaire stores don't run sales. He holds my stare, and I know he won't let this go. From what I've seen, Colton is the kind of person who always has to have the last word. I've learned to let that kind of thing go. My first instinct had always been to fight tooth and nail, but when you end up with bruises and burns, you tend to see things in a new light.

"Fine. Anyway, why didn't you use your magic app to find yourself a girl you actually want to marry?" I ask, lowering my voice. We're in a far-flung corner, but I can't risk anyone overhearing this conversation.

He fixes me in a stare and pauses before answering, clearly stunned by my question. I let things go, but I always fight back in some capacity.

"I could, but I don't actually want a wife. It's as simple as that."

"Okay," I say as the waiter brings us our plates. The deep, savory aroma of the truffle is intoxicating, and I can't wait to dig in. I love the earthy flavor. I've only had the real deal once before, years ago, when my ex, Zander, had run into some money and was in a good mood. He took me to this fancy restaurant, and when I sampled a bite of truffle, I declared that it was my favorite thing in the world. Since then, whenever I have a few dollars left over in my budget, I buy a bottle of truffle oil to drizzle over my pasta, but it's not quite the same.

I roll the linguine on my fork and bring it to my mouth. My eyes flutter closed, and a moan escapes my lips as I savor the delicately floral yet strong, musky taste of the truffle on my tongue. Yeah. Definitely the best thing in the world.

Colton clears his throat loudly, drawing me out of my truffle-induced paradise. "What about you? Why aren't you dating anyone?" he asks before eating a broccoli floret.

I shrug. "I'm not interested in dating anyone either. Simple as that," I echo back with a smile.

His eyes twinkle, but he doesn't say anything, focusing instead on his meal. If he doesn't share a little more background, why should I? In a way, it's better this way. Just two perfect strangers about to get married.