14. Billie

CHAPTER 14

BILLIE

" A nother drink, ma'am?" the waiter asks.

"Huh?" I look at my empty cocktail glass. When did I finish it?

A light wind blows across the hotel's outdoor patio, lifting my hair. "I'm fine, thank you. I'll just take the check."

"It's all taken care of. Everything will be billed to GarrisTech, courtesy of Mr. Garris."

"Oh." I blink. "Okay. Thank you."

The waiter walks away, and my gaze turns to the amazing sunset. It's probably the most romantic setting I've ever been in, and I'm here all alone.

It briefly occurred to me to ask James to join me for dinner, but that thought didn't last more than a second or two.

But as I sit here, watching the beautiful hues of orange and red blend together in the sky, I can't help but feel a little sad.

I've had barely any alone time since the day I brought Quinn home. Any vacations we've taken have involved a lot of bags and a fair share of tears — traveling with little kids can be messy.

I haven't had a quiet, sensual moment like this in… well, over six years.

It makes me feel lonely. Makes me think of the days when I had a man to go out with.

Of course, my ex was a total loser. I haven't heard from him in years, and good riddance.

Sighing, I push my chair back. Enough of the pity party.

My heart heavy, I walk back into the hotel and to the suite I have to share with James. He's offered me the bed while he takes a cot on the floor, and I didn't even think of turning him down.

Pausing at the door, I knock, just to let him know I'm coming in. I don't want to walk in on him with half his clothes off.

Or do I?

"Ugh. Come on, Billie," I mutter to myself.

There's no answer, and I start to turn the door handle when suddenly the door flies open.

James stands there, a look of alarm on his face.

My stomach drops. "What is it?"

"The presentation for tomorrow is gone. I must have deleted it somehow and it's not in the cloud. That account ran out of storage and I didn't see the notification."

"Oh, no," I murmur.

James is pacing now, and I can tell he's in a state of panic. Which is crazy. I've never seen him freak out like this before.

"It's okay," I say, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We'll figure it out. We'll stay up all night if we have to, but we'll get it done."

He looks at me, his eyes filled with gratitude. "Thanks, Billie. I don't know what I'd do without you."

I can feel my cheeks flush at the sincerity in his voice. I know he doesn't mean anything by it, but it still feels nice to be appreciated.

I clear my throat. "Sure thing. Um, so what time is the presentation?"

"Ten a.m."

I suck in a sharp breath. "Right. And just how long does it need to be?"

"About forty-five minutes," James replies, his eyes flickering with worry. "We can split up the work and cover all the important points. I'll work on the financial projections and you can handle the marketing strategies."

We spend the next few hours going through old files and piecing them together for the presentation. I don't know anything about the AI technology, so that makes for even slower going.

Around midnight, James stands up and stretches. "I'll order us some dinner before room service closes."

I let out a deep breath I didn't know I was holding. "Sounds good to me."

"What would you like?"

I shrug. "Whatever you're getting is fine."

As James calls in our order, I stare down at the laptop screen, my eyes starting to blur. It's been a long day, and it's about to be an even longer night.

But at least I'm not alone.

I glance over at James, who's still on the phone, his voice low as he orders our food. In the dim light of the hotel room, he looks different than he does in the office. More relaxed.

I can't help but let my eyes wander over his body. He's tall and lean, with broad shoulders. He's not the type I usually go for, but there's something about the way he moves that makes me feel things I haven't felt in a long time.

As if sensing my gaze, James turns to look at me. For a moment, our eyes meet and there's a jolt of electricity between us. I can't explain it, but it's there.

Clearing his throat, James turns back to the phone. "Yeah, can we get two orders of the steak?"

I look away, ashamed to have been caught staring at him.

He hangs up and puts the phone down.

"Food will be here in twenty," he says, rubbing his hands together. "In the meantime, I think it's time for a break."

I nod, grateful for the suggestion. A part of me wants to curl up in bed and sleep until the presentation, but that's not an option. We need to finish this tonight.

James walks over to the mini fridge and pulls out a bottle of champagne. "I know it's not the best time, but I figured we could use a little pick-me-up."

"You had the fridge stocked," I comment.

He shrugs. "Just in case."

He pops the cork, and the room is filled with a loud pop and a spray of bubbles.

A small smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. "I guess we deserve it."

He pours us each a glass, and we clink them together in a toast. "To getting this presentation done," he says, his eyes locked onto mine.

The warm bubbly liquid goes down smoothly, and I feel a sudden burst of energy. Maybe it's the alcohol, or maybe it's just the fact that we're finally making progress. Either way, I'm grateful for it.

"I'm sorry for this whole mess," James says. "I know it wasn't expected. I promised you some free time to explore during this trip."

I wave a hand and take another sip of champagne. "It's okay. I'll be able to make the most of it tomorrow."

He clears his throat and unbuttons the top button on his dress shirt. My pulse picks up.

"The hotel has guided tours, you know," he says. "Maybe you can go on one of them."

"Maybe." I run my finger up and down my glass. "Honestly, if I'm not working or taking care of Quinn, I don't really know what to do. It's been years since I've even been on a date."

I press my lips back together. Damn it. Did I just say that?

I must sound so pathetic.

There's a knock on the door, which saves me at just the right time. "Room service," someone says.

James walks over to the door and lets the room service in. The smell of steak fills the air as the table is set up for us. James pulls out a chair for me, and I take a seat.

Without even mentioning it, the waiter sets a white candle in the middle of the table and lights it.

"Oh." I stare at the candle. This isn't the romantic dinner he thinks it is, but me saying anything would make the situation so much worse.

James tips the waiter, who leaves with a smile, and then the two of us are left in the room with dinner, champagne, and a flickering candle.

I clear my throat. "Thank you for dinner."

"Certainly." He smiles, but it's tight. He looks just as uncomfortable as I feel.

He takes a seat across from me, and we eat in silence for a couple minutes. Finally, I can't stand it anymore. I need to talk, even if it's the smallest small talk that ever existed.

"So, how did you get into the tech world?" I ask, taking a bite of steak.

James looks up at me, surprised. "Well, I always had an interest in technology growing up, and I majored in computer science at college. I got a job at a startup before I founded my own company, and I've been in the industry ever since."

"That's interesting," I say. "I never would have guessed you had a background in engineering."

He chuckles. "Yeah, I suppose I don't exactly fit the stereotype. What about you? Did you always want to be a graphic designer?"

I take a sip of champagne, feeling the alcohol slowly taking its effect. "Actually, no. I wanted to be a painter, but my parents weren't supportive of that career choice. They thought it wasn't practical, so I went into graphic design instead."

James nods, his eyes staring into mine. "That must have been difficult," he says gently.

"It was," I reply, feeling a lump form in my throat. "But hey, I'm still doing what I love, even if it's not exactly what I set out wanting to do. I still love painting, and I don't feel a need to work at it full-time. Maybe one day I'll be able to do it more."

"That's admirable," James says, his voice softening. "I wish I had that kind of courage to pursue what truly makes me happy."

I raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean? Don't you enjoy working in tech?"

"I do," he says, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. "But sometimes, I feel like there's something missing. Like there's more to life than just work and success."

I lean forward, intrigued. "What do you think is missing?"

He hesitates for a moment before speaking. "Passion. I feel like I've lost that spark, that fire in my belly that used to drive me forward. Now, it's just routine and monotony."

I nod, understanding where he's coming from. "I think everyone goes through that at some point in their life. But it's never too late to find your passion again."

He smiles, a genuine expression that lights up his face. "You're right. Maybe I just need to take some time to figure out what that passion is."

I smile. This feels normal. Natural.

And, shamefully, like a date.

Monica's words come back to haunt me. James is the enemy. I need to watch my back when it comes to him.

But then there's that helpful adage — keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

"Do you have family close by?" I focus on cutting my steak, trying to make the question sound as innocuous as possible.

There's a pause. "No. I don't."

His tone of voice speaks volumes. Putting my fork and knife down, I look up at him.

"I'm not close to my family either," I say.

His eyes sparkle in the candlelight. It seems there's something else he wants to say.

But then he pivots. "What about Quinn's father? Is he close by?"

My skin warms. You're Quinn's father.

Of course, I don't say this. I'm at least semi-decent at keeping my cool.

I take a deep breath before answering. "She doesn't have a father. When my ex and I learned we couldn't have children, we started the adoption process. We weren't married yet. We were engaged."

Saying the words reopens that old wound. But it's like I can't stop talking. I never speak about this, and it feels good to let it all out.

"He said he wanted kids." I stare into my champagne. "Said he wanted to be with me. I guess when things became real, he freaked out and realized that wasn't what he really wanted. So he left in the middle of the adoption process, and I haven't heard from him since. I reapplied as a single parent, though, and I was lucky enough to get Quinn when she was three months old."

My chest burns with the memories — both painful and ecstatic. Coming home and finding Kevin's bags packed. Seeing Quinn for the first time.

"You adopted Quinn?" James says slowly.

I look up, and there's an odd look in his eyes. Almost like he's shocked.

"Yes." I cocked my head. "Does that surprise you?"

He shakes his head. "No, not at all. It's just… I had no idea. That's really amazing of you."

I can feel my cheeks heating up. No one's ever called me amazing before. "Thanks. She's my world."

James looks down at his plate, picking at a piece of asparagus. "I can't even imagine what that must've been like. Going through all of that alone."

I shrug, trying to play it off. "She was my dream come true. I made it work."

"But all on your own," he says quietly. "No partner."

"No. No partner." It feels like a weight in my chest. Like something I failed at. Something I missed out on.

James's expression softens, and I can see the sympathy in his eyes. "I'm sorry your ex did that," he says quietly.

I shake my head, trying to push away the pain that still lingers. "It's fine. We're better off without him."

Anyway, what my ex did wasn't half as bad as what James did. Kevin left before we even had a child. James abandoned Quinn knowing full well that she existed.

So why is he showing so much concern for my situation?

Is it guilt over leaving his pregnant ex? Is he trying to make up for that mistake?

Or is there something else going on here?

I can feel my mind spinning, trying to figure out what James is really thinking. But before I can come up with anything, he speaks again.

"I can't even imagine being a single parent," he says, his voice low and serious. "It must be so hard."

"It has its challenges," I admit. "But it's worth it."

"You're doing something really amazing," he says, "by giving that little girl a loving home."

His words take my breath away. They're so genuine. So heartfelt.

It's probably the realest I've ever seen him.

A second later, though, and it's over.

James puts his napkin on his plate. "Ready to get back to work?"

I sit there frozen for a second, my mind still reeling from the sudden switch. We were having a moment, right?

Yep. And then he realized we were, and he ended it.

Which is fine. I shouldn't be swept up in intimate conversations with him anyway.

I push my plate to the side and join James at the coffee table, where we dive back into work.

Except… my head isn't fully in it. It's back at the dining table, back with the conversation we just had.

Is there more to James than meets the eye? How could a man who shows such concern about my life peace out on his own child?

The further I get into this situation, the more confusing it all becomes. And the more I worry that I'm getting pulled into his magnetic aura — and that I'll never escape from it.