Page 101 of Titus

Now, most of them sat untouched beneath climate-controlled covers, like expensive museum pieces. Much like their owner.

Yet this morning, for reasons I still didn’t fully understand, I found myself wanting the Ferrari, not my driver and the damn Rolls.

Driving myself felt like the better choice, given that Malibu wasn’t the kind of place I should arrive at, surrounded by tinted security vehicles and chauffeurs. Another reason was that Catalina Veléz somehow reminded me that there had once been a version of me who actually enjoyed life before every moment became consumed by acquisitions, projections, negotiations, and power.

It was insane how much our dinner—and now spending time together in this casual beach setting—made me feel alive again. The realization itself was strange, especially knowing all it had taken to make me feel this way was one dark-haired woman with a smart mouth and beautiful eyes.

I pulled on the collar of the gray t-shirt I wore and glanced down at the boardshorts I still wasn’t entirely sure I should be wearing.

Jesus Christ.

Three hours ago, I hadn’t owned a single thing that even remotely resembled beach attire. Not even close. And that’s how I somehow found myself standing inside a Malibu surf shop this morning, while an aggressively cheerful eighteen-year-old employee named Annalisa looked me up and down before saying, “Oh my God. You’re totally giving rich, hot, divorced guy trying to emotionally heal at the beach.”

Swear to God, I nearly walked back out of the store. Instead, I stood there while the young woman piled shirts, board shorts, sunglasses, and sandals into my arms, insisting they would help me blend in. Apparently, according to Annalisa, black linen and a Rolex weren’t exactly subtle.

Who knew?

My thoughts about today’s awkward shopping experience were interrupted when I noticed movement near the parking entrance.

I watched Cat’s black Porsche Cayenne roll slowly through the crowded parking lot before pulling into a space several rows ahead of me. She wore oversized sunglasses, her dark hair falling over her shoulders as sunlight hit the soft bronze tone of her skin.

God in heaven. The woman looked like she belonged here and did this shit every Friday afternoon.

I took this moment to quietly enjoy the view. She stepped out wearing loose cream-colored linen pants, a fitted brown tank that hugged her body in ways that instantly became a problem for me, and brown leather sandals.

She looked elegantly casual, while I most likely looked like a buffoon, trying to wear clothes like a teenager.

The moment she spotted me leaning against the Ferrari, her mouth slowly curved into a smile that hit me harder than any damn business deal ever had.

“Well, well,” she said as I walked toward her. “Are you going to be okay leaving that in the parking lot alone without a babysitter?” She pulled her dark glasses down and looked over them toward my car.

“It’s a car, not a child, preciosa,” I smiled at her.

“Billionaires like you usually see your possessions as more precious than a child.”

“Not all of us billionaires see things the same way,” I told her.

“No,” she folded her arms, glancing at my wardrobe and then meeting my gaze. “No, you’re right. And might I add that you, sir, do a good job of coming down to my level and blending in.”

“Oh please,” I laughed. “This is definitely a new look for me.”

“I love it,” she said in a way that halted my breath and nearly stopped my damn heart.

What the hell was wrong with me? Grown-ass men, brutal in business or not, never reacted this way toward a woman.

“What’s that look?” she said, curious, as she studied my face.

“What look?”

“I’ve seen some pretty bold expressions on your face before, but this?”

I smiled as I watched her adorably search for words. Maybe she was just as taken with me as I was with her. A man could hope…

“Do I look like a fucking idiot?” I questioned. “I do, don’t I?”

“You look like a little boy whose mom decided it was beach day and you got to ditch school to go,” she laughed at her own remark.

My mind instantly went back to those days as a boy with my mom, and I realized I felt exactly as I had then… lighter, happier, and more alive.