The Billionaire Player (In Too Deep)

“That’s not how the expression goes.” I laughed. “Point taken, though. Maybe I do need to get out more.”

“Trevor has a few friends who know how to have fun,” she said. “I could set you up with one of them if you’d like?”

I got two glasses out and opened the bottle of wine she’d brought with her. “No. Thank you, but it’d be too weird if it didn’t work out and I had to keep seeing him at your birthdays and stuff for the rest of time.”

Butt in the air from having bent over to pull a pot out from under the counter, she shot me an excited look over her shoulder. “Wait. That’s your only objection? It’d be too weird if it’s one of Trevor’s friends? I really thought you were going to tell me to get lost and that you were too busy with work to think about dating.”

“Well, I am too busy with work to think about dating, but that doesn’t mean that I haven’t been thinking about it all the same.” After filling the glasses and handing hers over, I lowered myself down on one of the three stools we’d inherited from the previous tenants.

Brit had wanted to replace them when she’d still been living here, but my inner frugality had protested the notion of getting rid of perfectly good chairs. Besides, they were comfy. As I settled down on it, I toyed with the stem of the wine glass between my fingers.

“I don’t know for sure, but I think I’m finally ready to open myself up to meeting someone,” I confessed. “I’m not saying I’m looking to get married, but the idea of finding someone to share my life with is sounding better and better.”

“Look at you, growing up and finally admitting that you do have an inner romantic rolling around in there after all,” she teased. “If you’re so concerned about charity and you’re interested in seeing what’s out there, why don’t you come with me next week?”

“Come with you where?” I asked, taking a sip of the sweet white wine we both loved.

“Trevor got invited to an event hosted by that Jeremiah Williams guy. You’ve heard the name, right? He’s that billionaire who inherited Williams Inc. when his dad passed away last year. Also made a mint by himself after breaking away from the family company. Anyway, I suppose it doesn’t matter if you know who he is. The point is that he wanted Trevor to participate, but he’ll be traveling next week, and he promised I’d be there instead. I’ve got the extra ticket, though. And I don’t want to go alone.”

“I don’t know,” I hedged. “That sounds terrible.”

“Pleeease?” she begged before straightening up. “It’s for a really good cause. All the proceeds are going to provide housing for low-income families, and Jeremiah is in real-estate, so you know it’s real. He’s not someone who’s going to put up a cardboard box for people to live in and take off with the rest of the money.”

I considered it for a moment, but there was no reason not to go. “Fine. What I was going to say is that it sounded good but expensive. How much are we supposed to donate? Because if this guy is a billionaire, I’m not going to be able to make a terribly significant contribution in comparison to him.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said confidently. “The invitation made a point of saying that there’s no amount too big or small because every cent counts. They’re not expecting anyone to make a contribution that rivals anybody else’s. It’ll be fun. You’ll see. Just leave everything to me, and I’ll make sure you leave with a happy heart and maybe someone you could share your life with.”

That sounded good—too good to be true. Leaving with a happy heart was a given. I loved the thought of going to an event where what little I could give would be added to real money that would make such a big difference in so many lives.

The part I wasn’t so sure about was leaving there with someone I could possibly spend the rest of my life with. If finding a soulmate was as easy as going out and giving some money for a good cause, everyone would be doing it.

But it wasn’t that easy, and it never would be.