“But he’s got great taste in men, so I don’t mind it.”
“He does, doesn’t he?”
She grinned before putting more fries into her mouth. “Yep.”
Dr. Hamilton hired me to join his research facility and then hand-selected me to join his own research project. He changed my life—but that was only the beginning. He gave me everything that I was missing—the woman of my dreams and a family. I felt like one of the Hamiltons, when I did little to deserve it. “Did you tell him we’re moving in together?”
“Not yet.” She drank her beer.
“You think he’ll be weird about it?”
She shook her head. “Nah.”
“Your mom? Brothers?”
“Dex moved in with Sicily before they got married, so unlikely.”
“Your family is just so accepting, but I assumed there would be some threats here and there.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re right on the money. They were like that. Extremely.”
“What’s different now?”
“My brother wanted nothing to do with Mason, and then my dad couldn’t even have a direct conversation with me about it. The only person I could talk to was my mom because she kept it between us. It was like medieval times or something.”
“Because they didn’t like him?”
“No, not at all. My dad just didn’t want to meet a guy unless I intended to marry him, and Dex immediately disliked him because he wasn’t a super genius. Total bullshit. But anyway, that’s not the point. I told them they were treating me differently just because I’m a woman. They didn’t see it right away, but when they did, they backed off. So that’s why they’re chill about it now. My dad never had a problem involving himself in my brothers’ personal lives, meeting their girlfriends, nothing. Even if Mason hadn’t decided to be a dick, that relationship had no chance at success.”
“I’m not going to pretend to be sad about that.”
She gave another smile. “Me neither.”
“You think he’ll be at your tournament?”
She shrugged. “Don’t know. Didn’t even think about it.”
“I hope he is.”
“Why?”
“So, I can make out with you and grab your ass in front of him.”
She grabbed her glass and took another drink. “Didn’t realize you were the possessive type.”
“I didn’t either, until you.”
She dropped her gaze, her cheeks reddening slightly. She was not a shy person at all, but I could still make her warm with the things I said. Meant she was still crazy about me. “So, who gets to keep their place?” There were only a few fries left, but she grabbed each one, even if they were burned.
“It really doesn’t make a difference to me.”
“Well, you have an elevator that opens right into the living room.”
“And your place is closer to the clinic.”
“Psh. Doesn’t compete with the elevator.”
I chuckled. “Then it sounds like you’re moving in.”
“Well, hold on. What kind of mortgage are we talking about? Because I can’t afford to split the cost of a billion-dollar penthouse.”
“I don’t think there’s a penthouse that’s ever sold for a billion dollars.”
“You know what I mean. How much are we talking?”
“Actually, I don’t have a mortgage.”
She gave me a long stare. “You bought that shit in cash?”
“Yes, that shit.” She grew up with billionaire parents, and she was so smart that she could fly a rocket to Mars, but she kept it so real.
“Damn…”
“So that eliminates that problem.”
“Not really. I can’t just live there for free. I’ll split the property taxes with you.”
“It feels weird allowing you to pay for property that I own exclusively.”
“Whatever,” she said with a shrug. “I can’t just mooch off you. It’s not like I can’t afford to pay my share.”
I really didn’t want her money, but I knew she would be deeply offended if I didn’t compromise on this. “Fine.”
“Now, what should I do with my place?”
“I have a couple ideas.”
“Alright, man who pays for shit with cash.” She ate another fry. “Let’s hear it.”
“You could sell it and buy a small apartment complex or a duplex. Rent it out. Passive income.”
“Hmm, I guess I could. I honestly haven’t given any thought to my retirement plans other than my IRA and all that boring stuff.”
“Or you could just rent it out.”
“You think anyone would rent that place fully furnished?”
“This is Manhattan. I totally think that’s possible. They could cover your mortgage and probably leave you with enough to cover your portion of my place.”
“True. And I wouldn’t have to sell off my stuff at a fraction of what I paid for it.”
“That’s true too.”
She fished into the empty basket then pouted her lips when she realized everything was in her stomach. “Ugh, I hate it when that happens.” She motioned for the waiter so she could pay the tab and we could get out of there.
“Your place or mine?”
“Yours, I guess. It’s gonna be home soon.”
She worked on her laptop on the couch beside me, her own paperwork everywhere. The TV was on, showing the basketball game. She would work, drink her wine, and then scream at the TV when the ref made a bad call.