Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 227

Chapter 227

Nathaniel’s POV

The elevator was already rising when Annie rushed in, clearly late for some meeting. She was a little out of breath as the doors slid shut, leaving just the two of us.

“Good morning,” I said, keeping my tone as casual as possible.

“Good morning,” she replied, adjusting her bag and staring straight at the numbers climbing above the doors.” At least this time I’m not holding a cup of coffee.”

The reference to the moment we’d nearly kissed caught me off guard. I laughed quietly.

“My shirt appreciates it,” I said. When our eyes met, the air in the elevator seemed to thicken.

Annie looked away quickly, her cheeks taking on that soft pink I knew too well. I was almost certain she was remembering what had almost happened in that very elevator. I definitely was.

The elevator stopped on the tenth floor with a soft ding, cutting through the moment.

“By the way,” I said as the doors opened, “we need to work together on something today. Can you stop by my office after lunch?”

“Of course,” Annie said, her voice a notch higher than usual. “What kind of project?”

“I’ll explain then. Let’s say one thirty?”

“Perfect.”

The second I reached my office, I closed the door and opened the dating app. There was a reply from Annie tom the night before: [I think I’d relive an afternoon when Zoey, Matthew, and I built a massive

rt in our living room. Our parents were out, and the three of us spent hours pretending we were on a secret expedition. Zoey was the leader, I was the navigator, and Matthew was the ‘supplies alist’ (aka the one who stole cookies from the kitchen). It was one of those perfect childhood afternoons where everything felt possible. And you? Do you have siblings? This doesn’t count as a new question, it’s just a follow-up.]

I smiled at the screen. Sweet, warm, vivid. I could picture a younger Annie, mischievous and adventurous, creating imaginary worlds with her siblings.

I typed, [I have one brother and one sister in Bath. Very close family, we see each other whenever we can. And you’re right, it’s still your turn to ask.]

I sent it and set the phone aside. I hadn’t talked that openly about music in years. Almost no one knew it had been

my first love long before w genuinely loved too, ma hours I spent pla

It was hadn’t built the successful career I had in the wine world, something I rsued something musical. Now it was just my vinyl collection and the ome.

nie through the app made me reflect on parts of myself I rarely shared. She had Wat went straight to the core of things.

my mind kept drifting back to our conversation. And, if I was being honest with myself, I

wasn’t proud of what I was about to do. I was using what she said online to get closer to her in real life. Manipulative? Probably. Justifiable? Questionable.

But I needed a way to be near her without breaking the fragile friendship line we’d drawn.

When Annie knocked on my door at one thirty, I had already searched, bookmarked, and chosen exactly what I

needed.

“Come in,” I said, slipping a few papers into a drawer. “Actually, tell you what. I’m bored of being stuck in the office. How about we work somewhere else today?”

“What?” I asked.

“You have…” She hesitated, then leaned in before finishing.

I felt her hand brush my face, soft and careful, her thumb gliding at the corner of my mouth.

“Coffee foam,” she murmured, her eyes focused exactly where she was touching.

Even after she wiped it away, her hand stayed there. Her fingers traced a faint line along my jaw. Her breathing shifted, quicker, and I could feel her closeness, the warmth of her skin, that subtle perfume that had an uncanny ability to undo me.

Annie looked mesmerized by her own touch, like she couldn’t stop. Her gaze lifted from my mouth to my eyes, and the intensity there made the café disappear around us.

“Sorry,” a cheerful voice cut through the moment. The waitress, a bright Verdanian girl, stopped beside our table. “Would you like anything else? We’ve got sugarloaf buns fresh from the oven.”

Annie jerked back instantly, the spell shattered.

“No, thanks,” she said quickly. “Actually, we should get going. I’m about to run late.”

“Right,” I said, doing my best to hide the frustration curling in my chest.

On the walk back, Annie was quieter and more distant. Like she’d suddenly realized something and decided to retreat. When we reached the office, she muttered something vague and practically bolted to her desk.

I went to my office and checked my phone. Still no reply to the message I’d sent her earlier through the app. Of course there wasn’t. I’d kept her busy all day.

The irony wasn’t lost on me. I was competing with myself for her attention. Trying to win the same woman in two different ways, and somehow failing at both.