Page 84 of When Everyone Abandoned Me, the Billionaire Chose Me

But it does.

And I somehow find myself sitting down dazedly on the couch of his suite, which I'm now starting to appreciate as I look around.

It's...big.

That's all I can think at first, and then my brain catches up to itself and tells me that big isn't the word, enormous is the word, the suite I paid for could fit inside this living room and have room left over for a second living room.

Black and white, too, in a way that makes me think of London because I've only ever seen rooms like this in the kind of British movies Sandy refused to watch with me.

And there's a—

Wait.

Is that a lap pool on the balcony?

A lap pool. On a balcony. In a hotel.

And a grand piano in the corner that's making my fingers itch even though I haven't sat at one in I don't know how long.

And a staircase, of all things.

A hotel suite that has its own staircase. Who needs a staircase in a hotel? What's even up there? Another floor? A second living room? Why would anyone need a hotel suite this big when they're not even living here?

"Here you go."

I already know what he's brought me before I even turn to look at him.

Tea.

Mint tea, to be exact, with these tiny blue petals floating on the surface.

I lean closer because I want to make sure I'm seeing it right, and yup.

Blue petals.

Is this normal? Am I just not posh enough to know that it’s normal to have real flowers in tea these days? Am I supposed to drink around them? Or chew them? I just have so many questions while staring at those pretty tiny small blue petals, and...I’m thankful for that. Anything that gets my mind off...shapes? I’m thankful for it, and..oh.

I'm not quite sure what to do when my husband’s boss sits next to me on the couch instead of taking either armchair on the side. All this time I thought Londoners were big on personal space, but maybe they've changed?

"Take a sip, Nicole."

How bossy of him, I can’t help thinking even as I mumble my thanks and reach for one of the pretty porcelain cups. I’m just too tired to argue over anything right now, and honestly, it’s not like I’ve ever been the confrontational—oh!

The tea is surprisingly good.

Like, for real, it’s really, really good.

The heat, the scent, the minty, ice-like taste that soothes and refreshes. This is exactly what I didn't realize I needed, and it does have me wondering...

I steal a look at him over the rim of my cup—

Oops.

—only to find out that he's been watching me all this time, and my cheeks turn red at being caught like a peeping tom.

"I'm s-sorry—"

"You're starting to sound more British than I do," he murmurs, "with how often you apologize."