My Unexpected Vow: California Billionaires Book 2 by Harlow James (children's ebooks free online TXT) 📗

of and support myself on. But this job isn’t about money for me. It’s about empowerment, independence, having something that is mine and mine alone that I earned and love doing.

Being with Hayes while we were in Vegas and watching him work oddly gave me a new appreciation for what he does. He isn’t an investor that just throws his money around and hopes he lands on a solid return. He takes pride in knowing the ins and outs of what he has a stake in, and that was refreshing to know.

However, watching him freak out when he thought there was a spider on his neck was the cherry on top of the trip. I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard. Wes was right—apparently, Hayes is deathly afraid of spiders. And as soon as my hair was off of him and he returned to his meeting, I immediately sent a text to my brother to tell him what happened. He replied with a GIF of Chris Evans laughing in a chair, and I about died from laughing once again.

My eyes scour the mess on the table, searching for the fabric swatches I picked up today while Hayes was at work, admiring the silver pattern so delicately woven in the navy satin that I could see draped over windows and mirrors in the Midnight Cowboy. I set it next to the black marble sample I picked up as well that I could see for the bar and tabletops, and my smile ignites once more.

I get back to work, clicking away on my computer, scouring Pinterest and several other websites as more ideas come to me, and by the time I hear the garage door open, I realize I’ve been sitting here for four hours without so much as a bathroom break.

“What the hell are you doing?” With a pen sticking out of my mouth and a pencil tucked behind my ear, I pop my head up and find Hayes staring down at me, his face contorted with confusion. “Are you smoking a pen?”

I roll my eyes and remove the pen from my teeth. “No. I didn’t even realize I had it in my mouth, actually.”

“Do you stick all kinds of things in your mouth without realizing it then?” he teases, dropping his wallet and car keys on the kitchen counter before moving over to his bar and filling a glass with whiskey.

“I’m going to ignore that vulgar question and just ask you a question instead. Bad day?” I glance down at the tumbler in his hand as he moves the glass to his lips and then yanks on his tie.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he takes a seat across from me at the dinner table and then studies me, his gaze so perplexed that I feel like he’s trying to solve a math problem. “No… just… it’s nothing.”

“Oh. Okay. That explains it.” He continues to stare at me, which makes me feel like I have something on my face. “Is there something in my teeth?”

“No.”

“Then why are you staring at me?”

He doesn’t answer, just continues to penetrate me with his eyes, as if he’s using x-ray vision and is trying to see through my shirt. And this is Hayes, so I wouldn’t put it past him.

“What is all this?” he finally asks, gesturing to the table with his hand as the other draws the whiskey to his lips once more.

“Well, I actually wanted to talk to you about something. But I’m not quite ready.”

As his eyes take in the mess of papers and fabrics, notebooks, and scissors and glue, his lips tip up in an amused grin. “Looks like it.”

I roll my eyes. “Are you gonna work out? I can probably be ready for you by the time you’re done.”

“I’m already drinking. I don’t think there will be a run in my future tonight.”

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense.” I’m not sure what to do as Hayes’s eyes stay locked on me. “Well, can you give me like thirty minutes, and then I can show you what I’ve been working on for the past two days?”

“Alright. Are you hungry?” He stands, walking over to grab his phone that he left on the kitchen counter.

“Starving, actually.”

“Chinese sound good?”

“As long as there are egg rolls,” I reply. But then something occurs to me. “You don’t really cook, do you?”

“Not really a reason to. It’s a lot of work for one person, and if it doesn’t go in the microwave, I’ll probably burn it.”

“That makes sense. Emma did all the cooking at our place because I’m pretty much the same way.”

Hayes lets out an agreeable grunt as he clicks away on his phone. “Food should be about thirty minutes.”

“Perfect.”

“I’m just going to change.”

“Alright. I’ll be right here.” I watch Hayes trek up the stairs and as soon as he’s out of my sight, I scramble to clean up my mess, focusing back on my task. The boards are pretty much done as well as my sketches, but there are scraps everywhere and the materials are completely scattered all over the table.

Just as I finish situating everything where I want it, the doorbell rings. I rush to answer it, accepting the food from the delivery man and then tipping him generously.

“I would have gotten that,” Hayes declares as he steps back into the kitchen.

“Well, all I could do is tip the guy since you already paid for it, but it’s no problem. Let’s load our plates and then I’ll show you what I’ve been working on.”

With a plate full of steamy food, I take a seat across from Hayes and then shove a few bites into my mouth before starting my spiel. He seems more relaxed than he was earlier when I thought he was trying to cut me with his laser vision, so I feel more relaxed now explaining my ideas.

“Alright. So, normally during a pitch, I wouldn’t be in the middle of my dinner, nor would I be wearing leggings and