Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 571

Chapter 571

Nicholas’ POV

Bella finally fell asleep after three stories, two glasses of water, and countless questions about when Gwen was coming back.

I went downstairs slowly, the weight of the entire day settling heavily on my shoulders. The inn was quiet now, the guests already tucked away in their rooms. Only a few dim lights remained on in the hallway and at the front desk.

I headed straight for the kitchen, craving something warm to chase away the cold that had seeped into my bones and had nothing to do with the temperature outside.

Paula was there, sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea cradled in her hands. She looked up when I came in, studying me in that way only someone who’s known you your entire life can.

“Can’t sleep either?” she asked.

“Bella was restless,” I said as I walked to the stove, where the kettle still held hot water. I grabbed a mug, dropped in a chamomile tea bag, and poured the steaming water over it. “She kept asking about Gwen all night.”

“And you?” Paula asked once I sat down across from her. “Are you thinking about Gwen too?”

I didn’t answer. I just took a sip of tea that was still too hot and burned my tongue.

Paula sighed.

“You look worried. And it’s not just about Bella or Gwen, is it?”

I turned the mug slowly between my hands, watching the steam rise in lazy spirals.

“A creditor came by,” I admitted at last. “From the bank. Castoria Capital.”

I saw Paula stiffen in her chair.

“And?”

“Forty-two thousand dollars,” I said, the words landing like stones. “We’re three payments behind. They gave us sixty days to catch up or present a viable repayment plan. If we don’t…”

I didn’t need to finish. Paula knew exactly what that meant.

“Shit,” she murmured.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “But don’t say anything to my mother, okay? I don’t want to worry her yet. Not until I’ve at least tried to fix it.”

Paula nodded, her fingers tightening around her cup.

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“What are you going to do?”

I shook my head, as if the motion might shake some miraculous solution loose from my brain.

“The usual,” I said with a tired sigh. “Sell whatever can be sold. Maybe run an aggressive promotion on the wines, try to clear out the stock all at once. If I manage to sell everything, I might get to twenty

thousand. Maybe.”

“Nick,” Paula said, her voice gentle but firm, “selling a few things would only work if it were the property

itself.”

“That’s not even an option,” I cut in, my voice coming out sharper than I meant it to. “I’m not selling.”

Silence settled between us for a long moment. Just the sound of the wind outside and the ticking of the

clock on the wall.

“I’ll try for another loan,” I said finally. “Use one to pay off the other. At least it buys us time. Maybe the summer high season will be good enough to start paying things down for real.”

Paula looked at me with an expression that made it very clear she thought my idea was terrible.

“And what are you going to put up as collateral this time?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, running a hand through my hair as the frustration built. “I don’t know what to do, Paula. Is that what you want to hear? That I have no idea how to fix this shit? That I’m completely

lost?”

My voice had risen, echoing through the empty kitchen.

Paula didn’t look intimidated in the slightest. Instead, her expression softened. She reached out and rested a gentle hand on my arm.

“Of course not, Nick,” she said calmly, her tone a sharp contrast to my agitation. “What I want to hear is that a miracle happened and we’re saved. That someone showed up with a magical solution and everything turned out fine.”

She paused, then withdrew her hand.

“But that’s not going to happen,” she went on, as realistic as ever. “Miracles don’t exist. And at the same time, Nick, there’s no point in trying to do the same things that haven’t worked before. Another loan? That’s only going to bury you deeper. You need something different. Something new.”

“And what’s the brilliant idea, then?” I asked, unable to keep the slight edge of irony out of my voice.” Since you apparently have all the answers.”

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Paula studied me for a long moment, as if weighing whether she should really say what was on her mind.

Then she did.

“Gwen.”

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I blinked, certain I’d misheard her.

“What?”

“Gwen,” Paula repeated, her voice firm now. “She’s not… what was it she said she did? A digital marketing consultant specializing in rural tourism?”

“Yes,” I said slowly, still not seeing where she was going.

“Exactly,” Paula said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “She’s exactly the person who can save us. That’s literally her job. Helping places like ours attract more guests, become more profitable.”

I stared at Paula, processing that.

Gwen.

I picked up my tea mug and turned it between my hands as I considered the idea. The liquid was lukewarm now, nearly cold, but I took a sip anyway just to give myself something to do.

Paula was right about one thing. Continuing to do the same things that weren’t working was insanity. Einstein had said something like that. Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different

results was the definition of madness.

I needed to try something new. Something different.

And maybe it would also give me a good excuse to get close to Gwen again.

I set the mug back on the table, the soft clink of ceramic against wood breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” I said finally, looking at Paula. “Maybe it could work.”

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