Page 37 of Billionaire Grump
Ivy tucks a strand of her hair behind one ear and I notice the sprinkling of tiny tattoos on her arms. There’s the musical note on her wrist, the one I noticed in the photo. One of a feather on the delicate skin of her inner arm. A dragonfly. And, further up, a tiny dove.
She’ll definitely get attention in the Hamptons, for many reasons, including her Bohemian, artistic style. Most of the people who will be attending this wedding all have the same personal shoppers, or might as well, who source their clothing from some overpriced store that only stocks linen.
And she’s young. Really fucking young. Cleo mentioned she’s 23 but she looks younger. Cleo also mentioned she’s “talented” and I’m curious. “What’s the significance of the musical note? Are you a musician?”
She blinks those long lashes at me, clearly hesitant about giving me too much information. “Good guess.”
I don’t want to find out more about her just because I’m paying her to be my fake date. I genuinely want to know. “What kind of musician?”
“I’m a singer and a songwriter.”
“Anything I would have heard?”
“I guess it depends on what kind of stuff you listen to. We should probably get our stories straight, if we’re going to be convincing.” Her abrupt change of the subject almost makes me smile. Not a lot of people surprise me. She’s not at all what I was expecting. “People might ask us how we met. How long we’ve been dating. What would you like me to say?”
It’s a good point. “How about we say we met at a party at Invested Enterprises. At the Sky Bar, on their top floor. Have you been to their offices with Cleo?”
“Yes, once.”
“Let’s say…two months ago.”
“Okay.” There’s a shyness to her, but one she’s practiced at overcoming. Something gives me the feeling she’s used to performing and I find myself not just wanting to know more about this detail of her, but every detail of her. I know for a fact I’ve never been more beguiled by a woman in my life.
“You should probably tell me your last name,” I suggest, “so I can introduce you to people. Or you can make one up if you prefer.”
She fixes me with those eyes the color of cognac that’s been warmed to the perfect temperature. “Jones,” she finally says.
“Jones?”
“Yes.”
I almost laugh and it’s an unfamiliar feeling. “You can’t do any better than Jones? Really?”
She laughs lightly, against her will. And if I thought she was pretty with the sassy pout and the I-can-do-this determination to make light of what’s bound to be an awkward situation—us—her smile and her angelic little burst of laughter literally tilts my world off its fucking axis. I don’t know why. Okay, I do know why. Because she’s the most enchanting, beautiful creature I have ever, ever seen.
“Okay,” she admits. “It’s not Jones but I’d prefer to keep a degree of separation, if you don’t mind.”
“Up to you,” I adjust my jacket to—hopefully—disguise the fact that my cock is really fucking hard at this point. And I do mind. “I’d rather you found me to be trustworthy with information like that, but I like a challenge. I’ll just have to try to convince you I’m not a stalker or the devil by Sunday afternoon.”
Another coy smile and it hits me somewhere in the middle of my chest. Her mouth is so damn perfect. Her lips are pink and plump and lightly shiny. The whole effect is doing things to me that are new. I can feel my fascination digging deeper in a way I can’t control. Which is fucked up. I control everything in my life.
She twirls a coiled strand of her long hair around a finger. The sassy attitude is back.
Which makes my cock throb. “It might make the act more believable if I can answer questions when people ask. And they will.”
She relents, but barely. “What do you want to know?”
“Anything you want to tell me.”
“I just turned twenty-three. I live in Soho. I have one brother who’s almost eighteen. I’m a musician and an influencer.”
“An influencer?”
“Yes.”
“I know what it means, but I’ve never really thought about what someone who ‘influences’ actually does.”
“I create content. And advertise products on my clients’ behalf through my platform, mainly on Instagram and TikTok.”