Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 575

Chapter 575

Gwen’s POV

I looked at myself in the mirror for the thousandth time, adjusting my jeans for the hundredth, tugging my blouse up, then down, trying to decide if it looked good or if I seemed like I was trying too hard.

Or not enough.

Honestly, I wasn’t sure anymore.

I grabbed my phone and snapped a quick mirror selfie, sending it to Mia with the caption: Is this okay?

Her reply came seconds later: I can see the lack of quality in those jeans from here, so… perfect!

I rolled my eyes but smiled. It wasn’t that bad. The jeans were comfortable, the blouse simple but pretty, the cardigan light enough for the weather. I looked… normal. Like anyone else heading out for coffee on a Monday morning.

Which brought me to the next point.

I’d taken the day off from Kensington. Technically, I’d given myself the day off, since that was one of the perks of being COO. I could just announce I’d be unavailable and no one questioned it.

Not everyone could do that. I knew that. But since Nick thought I was a freelance consultant without a fixed schedule, he wouldn’t find it strange that I was meeting him at a café during business hours on a Monday.

I grabbed my purse, not the Prada I usually carried, but a simpler one I’d bought years ago and almost never used, and left the apartment.

My nerves grew with every step.

In the elevator, I caught myself checking my reflection in the polished metal doors, adjusting the loose, softly wavy hair I’d decided to wear down.

In the garage, I had to remind myself not to take my main car. Dante had been very clear about that yesterday. I chose the smallest, most discreet of the three I owned, the same one I’d used to drive to the

inn.

During the short drive to the café Dante had shown me the day before, my stomach flipped nonstop. My hands were sweaty on the steering wheel. My heart raced far more than it should have for something as simple as meeting someone for coffee.

But it wasn’t simple, was it?

Because it was Nick.

I parked two blocks away and walked the rest of the way, trying to look casual while internally spiraling.

The café was emptier than it had been yesterday with Dante. Monday morning, most people already at

work; Just a few retirees and maybe a student or two scattered at the tables:

And there he was.

Nick was sitting at one of the tables near the window, looking at his phone. He was wearing jeans too, but his were clearly years old, faded in places, and a blue flannel shirt over a white T-shirt.

When he saw me, his smile widened.

He stood immediately, walked toward me, and greeted me with two kisses on the cheek.

I smiled, feeling something warm spread through my chest.

In Valentia, people usually only did that with those they felt close to. With casual acquaintances or in professional settings, they preferred a handshake. The two kisses were reserved for friends, family, people who mattered.

Which meant Nick was setting the tone. Making it clear he didn’t want things to be awkward or formal between us. That despite everything, we were… what? Friends? Something more?

“You look beautiful,” he said as we stepped back.

“Thank you,” I replied, feeling my cheeks warm. “You look good too.”

We sat down, and Nick immediately picked up the small menu on the table.

“Can I get you something?” he offered. “Or would you rather go up to the counter yourself?”

“You can order,” I said, remembering Dante’s warning. Let him pay. Let him be the gentleman. “A cappuccino with cinnamon and a pinch of nutmeg, if they have it. And anything to eat is fine.”

Nick smiled, like he appreciated the specific request, and headed to the counter.

Dante had been right. Nick didn’t even give me the chance to offer to pay for my share. He simply

assumed he would cover everything, as if that were the most natural thing in the world.

He came back a few minutes later carrying a tray with two cappuccinos, two filled croissants, and what

looked like a slice of some kind of cake.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d feel like,” he explained as he set everything on the table, “so I brought options.”

“Perfect,” I said, taking my cappuccino and sipping it. It was delicious, creamy, with exactly the right amount of cinnamon.

“So,” Nick said as he settled into the chair across from me, his hands wrapped around his own cup, “how are you? Really. Did you do all the tests the doctor recommended? Are you still having headaches or dizziness?”

His tone was genuinely concerned, his green eyes scanning my face as if searching for signs that something was still wrong.

“I’m great,” I assured him. “Really. I did all the tests. MRI, CT scan, everything. The doctors said I was lucky, that there was no permanent damage. The headaches stopped completely after a couple of weeks.

“That’s good,” he said, and the relief in his voice was unmistakable. “I was worried. Especially after that night at the cabin, when you… when everything came back all at once.”

“I know,” I said softly. “But I’m okay.”

We drank our coffee in silence for a moment, a silence that should have felt comfortable, but didn’t.

“And how are things at the villa?” I asked finally. “How’s everything going?”

“They’re going,” he replied, without much detail. “You know how it is. There’s always something that needs fixing, always bills to pay, always guests to take care of.”

His tone was light, but something in his eyes didn’t match. Something tired.

“And Bella?” I asked, taking a bite of the croissant.

Nick’s face lit up instantly.

“She’s great,” he said with a warm smile. “She asks about you all the time. I didn’t even tell her I was coming to see you, or she would’ve insisted on coming along.”

“You should’ve brought her,” I said, feeling a pang of longing for the little girl. “I would’ve loved to see her.”

“Next time,” he promised. “But today I had to take care of a few things earlier and… well, it wasn’t exactly a kid-friendly errand.”

A bank, I thought immediately. He’d been to a bank. Or somewhere equally adult and equally unpleasant.

We talked about small, empty things for a few more minutes. The weather, warmer in Florentia than in Montelira. Traffic, impossible with construction on the main road. Little topics that filled the space without really meaning anything.

Until I couldn’t take it anymore.

“I was really happy to get your message,” I said, setting my cup back on its saucer. “To know you wanted to see me while you were in the city.”

Nick seemed slightly uneasy, his fingers tapping lightly on the table.

“Actually,” he began, his voice growing more serious; “I needed to talk to you. About… about business.”

I froze, my coffee halfway to my mouth.

Business?

After all the anticipation. The careful outfit. Asking Dante for advice. Being nervous all morning…

And Nick wanted to talk about… business?

What kind of business could we possibly have in common?

D

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