Playboy Billionaire

STELLA

I’m nervous our entire drive to dinner, I’m not certain why, and I don’t think I show it. I pride myself in concealing it pretty well, actually. Every once in a while, when we pass a street light that flashes through the car, I take a peek at Antonio. He’s wearing the outfit I chose for him, and I must say, I really am good at putting together looks. I wish he’d let me do it more often. At least until this whole jig is up.

We come to a stop in front of Olivetta. It’s a beautiful restaurant, filled with plants, warm lighting, and soft accent touches that give it a fairytale feeling. I always select the section we’re in tonight because we get the long table under a ceiling cascading with flowery vines. We are already heading to the front door before I realize we’ve exited the car. I take deep yoga breaths to ground myself, hoping this new bout of nervousness is only temporary.

“Right this way, Ms. Lombardi.” The hostess beckons us the moment we walk inside. Antonio gives me a look, his thick brows arching like he’s impressed with my ability to be recognized. I crack a smile and look at him from the corner of my eyes. He takes my hand in response as we near the front corner room.

Along the back wall, there is a long row of tables taken up by my friends. At the end, the booth rounds out to the back wall by the fireplace, where our seats await us. Iris sees me before anyone else, waving us over to her and grabbing everyone else’s attention in the process.

“Stella!” She calls, and I wave back as the group stands, offering hugs for me and handshakes of introduction for Antonio.

“This is my boyfriend, Antonio.” I continue to say to each friend, introducing him to everyone. “Iris Woods, Ainsley Banes, Brandt Wilder, Grey Machiavelli, Presley Lewis, and Jens Alodie.” Jens is instantly skeptical of this whole thing; he knows me too well. It makes me sick to my stomach. He was my first boyfriend once upon a time in grade school, the only one who really knows what my family does. Our on-off relationship is complicated, but I have no feelings for him anymore. Not after the shit he put me through. Party boys will only break your heart— that’s an anthem, a mantra. End of story.

Despite the rollercoaster we’ve been through, the six of us really are tight-knit. We went to the same private schools since kindergarten. Now we meet almost every night we can and even plan vacations together. All of our families moved to LA around the time the Luciano clan took over NY territory. It’s impossible to escape their friendship, and I haven’t ever wanted to until now.

For the next few months, they can’t know anything about this arrangement, so it’s better I keep their prying at bay. I’m safeguarding the truth for reasons they wouldn’t understand. Not with their endless privilege of power to be who they want.

We take our seats, accept the drinks handed to us, and the conversation begins to swirl.

“He’s god-like.” Iris leans in, whispering in my ear, champagne close to her chest as she observes him talking to Grey.

“Yeah.” I smile, almost believing my lying lips.

“Good in bed?” I pause too long at this question, and her brows raise high. “You haven’t slept with him?!” She nearly lets out a gasp, and Jens, who is beside me, chokes on his drink after hearing our conversation.

“I—” I sigh, but Jens slaps his hand on the wood table.

“So, how did you and Stella meet?” Jens leans in, long hair swept out of his bright blue eyes as he toggles them between Antonio and me.

“Our families introduced us.” He quickly recounts, throwing the same challenging tone back.

“Oh, that’s interesting because Stella here doesn’t ever like being set up.”

“I guess I’m the exception.” Antonio bares his teeth while he talks before pressing his lips into a sarcastic grin, brows low with determination to win this stupid size-up.

“I guess so.” Jens leans back, watching Brandt ask Antonio about his music taste. Antonio looks so hot in this light, his chilled jaw tightening as he smiles, eyebrows turned up when he laughs. The tip of his nose curving perfectly with his top lip. Jens catches me watching Antonio, and I don’t know what my face looked like when I was, but I become irritated when I feel his fuming glare.

“He’sgreatin bed and everywhere else, for that matter,” I say at talking volume to Iris, who squeals excitedly as Jen's jaw clenches. He doesn’t own me, and I couldn’t care less about his petty attempts to interrogate Antonio. That’s the good part about Antonio being such a playboy; he’s cool under pressure. Jens and his dramatic ass doesn’t stand a chance against him.

“So you’re in LA to stay for a while? No more one drives to Malibu?” Ainsley jumps in now, her big brown eyes pleading with excitement.

“Yeah, I’m going to be here for the foreseeable future.”

“Where are you staying?” Presley leans across the table, blond brows moving up and down as he implicitly pouts his plump lips.

“Stop.” I shake my head, and his jaw drops.

“Oh my God,” he leans in even more to whisper. “You’re staying with him.” I don’t respond as most of the eyes fall on me. God, I wish Antonio would get out of their pop music debate with Brandt and help me out right about now.

“Uhm.” I clear my throat. “It’s complicated… but—”

“She is.” Presley brings a flat hand to his mouth. “Our baby has moved in with a man.” He fans his face, and Ainsley shakes her head with a grin, reaching across Iris to touch my arm.

“You must really like him.” She nods, and I nod along, hoping I won’t have to continue to lie. Iris and Presley begin to chatter about something related to them predicting this, and I zone out, watching Antonio until he feels my gaze. He does notice me, but instead of meeting it, he avoids eye contact. This is why I decided to order five tequila shots for myself.

“Yes! Celebrate, lovey!” Presley orders two for himself, and Iris sticks to her champagne because she has a shoot in the morning. Apparently, she wasn’t supposed to have a glass of anything— not even water— before her shoot, so I don’t push her to let loose. Ainsley orders three shots, and Jens goes on his phone after Presley stops answering his questions.

For most of the night, Antonio and Brandt are going back and forth. It’s probably another thing pissing Jens off because Brandt is by far his best friend. I can’t help that Antonio can be so charming when he wants to be, but I can’t say I feel bad for Jens either way.