Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 271

Chapter 271

Annie: Do you think we always know how to recognize the right moment… or do we only realize it when it’s already too late?

Wanderer: Maybe the right moment doesn’t exist. Only the right person. And what we do, or fail to do when they show up.

Wanderer: Which brings me to my eighth question: would you forgive someone who messed up… while trying to do the right thing?

Annie: I think sometimes we do the right thing… but at the wrong time. And the universe isn’t always generous with second chances. So… yes. I would forgive them. But I don’t know if I could ever go back to exactly the same place. Because the right moment… might be the one thing you can’t recreate.

Annie: And speaking of the right moment… would you hate me if I confessed that I think… this isn’t ours?

Wanderer: Is that your ninth question?

Annie: I think I want to leave the tenth one open. Maybe… for the right time.

Wanderer: I could never hate you, Annie. Some connections exist just to remind us who we are… even if they don’t last. And if this isn’t our moment… that’s okay. I’ll keep what we had with fondness. Not bitterness.

Wanderer: And who knows… maybe one day we’ll run into each other out there. I’ll take you out for artichoke and Sicilian lemon pizza-my favorite. Ninth question: what’s yours?

Annie: Margherita. Simple, predictable… but comforting.

Annie: Have a good life, Wanderer.

Wanderer: Have a good life, Annabelle Castle Bennett.

“Done,” Gwen said, walking up to my desk with that teasing little smirk of hers. “You can have your phone back.

I took the phone from her hands, still feeling that strange mix of relief and sadness after the whole conversation with Wanderer. There was something so final about that goodbye that it left a knot in my throat, like I was closing a chapter before fully understanding what it had meant.

“And?” I asked, curious about her reaction. “What did you think?”

“I imagine it was hard,” Gwen said, studying me with that perceptive look she always used when she was trying to read a situation. “But… speaking of which, things are getting pretty serious between you and Nate, aren’t they?”

My face heated instantly. Even after spending the night at his place, even after deciding to stay in London partly because of him, I still felt awkward talking about whatever it was we were becoming. It was all too new, too intense, too complicated to fit into neat little labels.

“It’s not exactly like that…” I said evasively, shuffling some papers on my desk to avoid her curious stare.

But then something that had been bothering me from my conversation with Wanderer came crashing back with renewed force, wiping away any embarrassment about Nate.

“Wanderer called me Annabelle Castle Bennett,” I blurted, looking straight at Gwen. “Castle.”

“I guess… after everything that happened, I started trusting him more,” she said, but her tone had an unnatural smoothness, like she’d practiced the line. “And, well… you two said goodbye, right? Ended what never actually started. So… let it go.”

The way she said let it go bothered me deeply. Far too casual. Far too unconcerned for someone who had been legitimately anxious about my safety before. Something was wrong-very wrong. I could feel it vibrating under my skin, a warning I couldn’t ignore.

“Gwen…” I began, but she was already walking away again.

“I have to rush to a meeting,” she called over her shoulder. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

I sat alone at my desk, watching her disappear down the hallway with a speed that felt unnecessary. Something was definitely off. Her sudden shift in attitude was too drastic to be explained by a simple change in perspective about Wanderer.

I slumped back in my chair, letting my thoughts rearrange themselves. Too many pieces didn’t fit: the way Wanderer always seemed to know exactly what to say, how his questions were perfectly tailored to hit me emotionally, how he’d found my office address to send flowers, and now… my full name.

And Gwen… Gwen was acting strangely. First deeply worried, then suddenly unfazed. As if she knew something I didn’t.

A terrible suspicion began to form in my mind-a possibility I didn’t want to acknowledge, but one that made every piece of the puzzle start falling into place with terrifying clarity.

What if… what if he actually knew me?

What if Gwen knew the truth?