Meant For Me (Paradise Bay Billionaire Brothers Book 6) by Claudia Burgoa

Author:Claudia Burgoa [Burgoa, Claudia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-05-14T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Two

Huxley

“What do you propose?” Enid asks as we make our way out of Paradise Bay.

“Technically, I own a chunk of the bookstore. Why don’t I join forces with you? We could transform the place and—”

“No way,” she cuts me off. “Do you really think we can work together?”

Oh, but we could make a brilliant team. Didn’t I prove that to her last night? We’re compatible in all ways—even intimately.

“Then let me be an investor. Silent or otherwise,” I propose.

I’d accept any role. In fact, every suggestion I’ll give her will have the same outcome. She’ll work with me or for me, and we’ll spend loads of time together.

“So you can take over later and kick me out? No.”

Okay, both options are out. But I have a few more suggestions, and none of them include her working at the bar with me. “What did you used to do before you moved to Paradise Bay?”

“That’s none of your business,” she scoffs, her voice heavy with disdain.

“I could make a few calls and easily figure it out. Why don’t you save me the trouble?” I suggest trying to simplify things.

“Are you always this arrogant?” She practically spits the words out. The atmosphere in the car heats up as her anger increases.

It’s not my intention to piss her off, but I can tell I’ve done exactly that. “I’m… Ugh, no. I just… apparently, everything I say comes across the wrong way.”

“Listen, if you’re apologizing and trying to be nice because you think I’m pregnant—”

“That’s not why,” I say, clenching my jaw. “I’m doing this for your grandmother. She was a lovely person.”

She is silent for a long moment before finally asking, “Do you know my mother?”

I shake my head, keeping my eyes on the road ahead of us. “Up until you arrived, I had no idea she had a family. That’s why I used to visit her often.”

“Why would you do that?” Her tone is soft and guarded, as though she’s afraid of the answer.

I shrug, offering her an easy smile. “She seemed lonely. I remember her fondly, you know? Mrs. Rosenfield used to volunteer in the library and read stories every summer. Sometimes, she would bring cookies.” I grin, recalling how she liked to bend the rules of the library just a little bit when it suited her needs.

“But she owned a bookstore,” she says in disbelief.

I laugh, glancing at her out of the corner of my eye. “She only volunteered twice a month. She had time to do both.”

“When did Whimsy & Wonder Books close?” She seems interested now, eager to know more about her grandmother’s past and the store she once owned.

“I was twenty-one,” I say, shifting my grip on the steering wheel. “It’s easy to remember, since it happened almost at the same time I bought Two Thieves at a Bar.”

“That’s… a long time ago,” she huffs, impatience rippling through her tone. Probably losing faith in the little store.

“It is,” I agree, glancing around as I switch lanes, eager to make it to San Francisco in time for brunch before our next stop at the pharmacy.

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