4

Dropping my fork on my uneaten spaghetti, I leaned back into the chair and pressed my palm against the back of my mouth. This had to be a joke.

Jonathan leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he clasped his hands and gave me that one hundred and ten percent attention politicians do when they want you to feel heard, special. "What are you thinking? Talk to me."

I pressed my fingers into my forehead. "Honest to God thoughts?"

Jonathan nodded. "Honest to God thoughts."

"I think you're crazy."

There was his cackle again.

It was my turn to lean forward and ask questions. "I mean, Jonathan, when you called last night, I thought you wanted my company at all the banks. Then you mentioned the White House, and I was thinking contracts with the DOD, getting into the big house with my business...not living there."

Jonathan smiled. "Well, you wouldn't actually live at the White House. The Vice President has their own home. But I get your drift. What if I told you that if you took this offer, I could get you your business in the White House?"

"I'd say that's probably illegal. Isn't the VP not supposed to be profiting from things?"

Jonathan waved his hand around. "Semantics. There are ways around all things. Put your business in another person's name, for example. But that's a conversation for a later time. Think about it, Lorenzo. You're a billionaire, handsome, in your thirties. One of the most successful bachelors in this city... What's the next step for you? Don't you ever feel like you've peaked?"

"Well, I guess that's why I wanted to expand my company."

"This goes beyond your company, Lorenzo. This is about you, your future. You've achieved so much in such a short time. Don't limit yourself. You're tailor-made for this."

Almost perfect. I could sense it in his tone. "What's the catch?"

Jonathan tilted his head side to side. "Always a step ahead, aren't you? I'll be upfront—it's a value I plan to uphold, might as well start now, huh?" His grin slowly faded. "We're considering two or three other candidates for the position. You're my top choice, and that's why I'm being candid with you like this. However, there's a small condition, something we can easily work through, though."

"And what might that be?"

"Get yourself a partner, a girlfriend, not necessarily a wife, but someone stable."

My jaw fell. "Damn. This is why you recommended I hire Jenny."

He raised his hands. "You caught me. But honestly, everyone benefits from having a publicist, yet, yeah, that was the motive. Personally, I don't see an issue with you being single, but my advisors disagree. You have so much in your life; it might make it challenging for the lower class to relate to you. Hence, the need for a significant other."

"I understand."

"So... is that a yes?"

"Can I think about it?"

"Of course, of course... but I'd need you to have someone by your side in three weeks. Don't worry; we will also discuss getting your company contracted by the DOD. That's still on the table."

"I mean... thank you." What else could I say?

I needed to process this—not just because of the incredible opportunity, but because the caveat he thought was small felt more like a significant hurdle.

How on earth was I supposed to find a girlfriend in three weeks?

As we wrapped up lunch, I followed the mayor outside and shook his hand. Was this real life? Jesus. I had not expected that. All right... now what? Barbie had called me three times after dinner last night, realizing I had walked out, and sent me a string of texts with some colorful language. She was probably off the table.

I reached for my phone to call Jenny but hesitated. Standing outside the shop next to Amelio's was a petite woman, her blonde hair piled in a loose bun on top of her head, her bright blue eyes reflecting in the glass of the bookstore display window.

Ten years.

Ten years since I'd seen her.

I must be hallucinating.

I slipped my phone into my pocket, blinking as I approached her slowly. She didn't dissolve like a hologram. Instead, she noticed me in the window, and her eyes widened in surprise.

Her jaw dropped as she turned around. "Lorenzo? Lorenzo Kensington?" Her smile was exactly how I remembered it.

"Ophelia Wellington." My grin matched hers. My ex-girlfriend was just as beautiful as the last time I'd seen her.

"Holy fuck.”