Page 32 of My Forbidden Billionaire
Mad with pleasure, I can’t even figure out which piece I want to try first. My fingers shake as I finally choose a pink cube. I dust off a little icing sugar and reveal the transparent goodness underneath. It melts in my mouth as soon as it touches my tongue, releasing flavors of wild roses and honey. “This is, without a doubt, the best thing I have ever eaten.” I savor the sweet right there, on the floor, surrounded by yellow orchids.
“Oh! I’ve got to try it!” Emmy exclaims, grabbing a piece of the Turkish Delight from the box and popping it into her mouth.
“I’m assuming your secret admirer is the hot dad?” Larisa asks.
I nod, still in a daze from the unexpected gift.
Larisa grins. “Well, at least you know he has good taste in gifts...”
And then it hits me.
It was Clem.
She must have told my “secret admirer” about all of this. Otherwise, how could he have known? I revel and allow the happiness to spread through my body like warm gold.
Have I ever been this happy before? If I have, I can’t remember.
I find my phone on the couch. I know exactly what to say to my secret admirer. I scroll until I find Jacob’s number. My fingers are feverish and ecstatic as I type away from memory.
Since he filled my apartment with yellow orchids, no doubt inspired by my favorite book, One Hundred Years of Solitude, it’s only fitting that I reply with my favorite quote from the same novel.
The message to Jacob goes through.
Me: It’s enough for me to be sure that you and I exist at this moment. Both of us remain floating in an empty universe where the only everyday and eternal reality is love.
Chapter Twelve
Jacob
“Clem, we’re going to be late!” I call from downstairs for, what seems to be, the millionth time. “What is she even doing up there?” I ask my butler, Jarvis, who, like me, is waiting in the foyer.
“Sir, I wouldn’t be able to tell you, but I’m happy to ask her nanny to go and check.”
“No, no. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure she’ll be down in a moment or two,” I reply, even though I don’t believe my own words. I’m sure Jarvis doesn’t, either, but at least he can’t say anything about it.
As expected, another half hour passes before Clem decides to make an appearance. I spend my time in the library, looking for the book I want to give Josephine. As it turns out, it’s all the way up on one of the high shelves, and I need a ladder to reach it. Just as I climb down, careful not to get dust on my new suit, Clem enters the library, dressed in what I can only describe as a cape made entirely of silver sequins. Instead of boots, she’s wearing sandals and her hair is slicked back and tied neatly with a green bow. Honestly, she looks like an oversized Christmas ornament—the cutest ornament I’ve ever seen.
“Are you going to your cricket game, or are you planning to steal Christmas?”
“Ha ha. You’re so funny.” She smirks.
“Clem, really, though? Why are you wearing that?”
“What?”
“The silver cape. Complete with the bow and sandals. Why are you wearing this special outfit? We need to be at the cricket event in less than an hour.”
“Why are you wearing a red suit? It’s a cricket match.”
Well played. Once again, I am defeated by a ten-year-old little girl.
How in the world did I make a billion dollars?
“It’s not red. It’s dark maroon. The tailor said that it goes very well with … my eyes.”
Clem shoots me a knowing look and grins. “Of course, it does.”
“Anyway, you didn’t answer my question. Shouldn’t you be wearing something more … sporty? Like your team uniform?”