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“For an interview.”

“I never promised you an interview.”

“You implied it.”

“I asked if you'd like to continue our conversation somewhere quieter.”

“That’s billionaire semantics.”

“I wasn't aware billionaires had their own branch of linguistics.”

“I'm sure you bought one.”

He laughs. Actually laughs.

And God help me, I like the sound.

Too much.

I fold my arms.

“Where are we going?”

“My house.”

My arms unfold.

“Your house?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“For the nightcap I mentioned.”

“I thought you meant a bar.”

“I own better liquor.”

“That's the most billionaire thing you've said so far.”

“I can do better.”

“I have no doubt.”

His eyes gleam.

Warm.

How the hell can eyes that blue look warm?

It's unnatural.

And distracting.

Very distracting.

I look away.