Page 55 of Billionaire's Fantasy
“Yes. Of course. I want Olivia to have an amazing night.”
“Thank you!” She wraps her arms around me and squeezes.
“You’re welcome.”
“I will just need to grab my belongings from the suite, if that is okay with you,” Jackson says.
“Same here!” Olivia squeals. “I really do owe you one!”
“Don’t mention it.”
“I will call my dad in the meantime,” I tell them.
“Okay, Amber, and again, thank you!”
“You’re welcome.”
As I walk away, first I feel a sense of relief. I did not have to be the one to suggest it, but I can’t believe it is actually happening.
I can’t believe I am going to be spending the night in close quarters with this man, especially now that we have squashed out our problems, or as much as we could in the short span of a dinner.
His phone rings for a few minutes before he picks up. “Hey Amber. Everything okay?”
“Yes, Dad. The trip was okay, and we got here just fine. I was not able to take footage for you, but I will record some tomorrow.”
“Okay. And what is there to report so far? Can you just email it to me? I am supposed to be on call with our Chinese investors in five minutes.”
“That’s okay. I will send you the details tomorrow morning. I have not done much exploring but so far, I am still leaning towards opening a branch in the Caribbean.”
“Okay. Why would you say that?”
“The activities are a whole lot more over there and you will have guests throughout the whole year. Colorado so far only has skiing, which is way more seasonal.”
“Ha! Good. The profit margin will definitely be higher but don’t worry about all the statistics, Amber, that is my purview. You just concentrate on taking pictures and videos and I will choose which ones I will highlight on websites and use to promote whatever place I open.”
Wow! Condescending much!
My father’s relationship has been rocky all my life, and probably always will be, but I think what it all boils down to is the fact that he has been a businessman all his life. He has always thought in numbers and shares and profits. And me not joining that hamster on a wheel life and deciding to work as a full-time influencer will always feel like a waste of talent and resources to him.
“Okay, Dad. I will send you the report tomorrow.”
“Good.” And without another word, he hangs up.
I walk towards our room and find Jackson unpacking his suitcase.
“Sorry. I wanted a shower. I was just grabbing my clothes.” Then, he hesitates. “Unless you would take a shower first. I can wait.”
“No, it is okay. You can start.”
He picks up his pajamas and heads towards the room and I stretch out on the bed and compose the email for my dad.
I am just about to hit send when Jackson comes strolling back in looking like a well-tanned and delicious snack.
I have to remind myself to breathe, especially when a trickle of water runs from his hair, down his throat, all the way down his chest.
I gulp.
“Shower’s all yours.”
