Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 585

Chapter 585

It was Friday morning, and I should’ve been at Kensington in Florentia, sitting at my desk and buried in reports and meetings.

Instead, I was wrapping up my third meeting of the day with tourism agencies in the Montelira region, pitching partnerships I’d spent the entire week carefully structuring down to the smallest detail.

“I know most tourists usually arrive here with their lodging already booked,” I said, sliding high-quality printed brochures across the table toward the two agents sitting across from me. “But that’s not the point. This is about our unique experiences.”

I pointed to the photos on the brochure as I listed them.

“Sunset dinners with one of the most breathtaking views in Valentia. Authentic Castorian cooking workshops with a renowned local chef. Photography workshops in truly stunning locations. A historical tour of a perfectly preserved thirteenth-century medieval tower. And, of course, grape harvest experiences during peak season, where guests can actively participate in the winemaking process.

I flipped the brochure to the last page.

“Everything is outlined here in detail, including pricing and availability. And we offer very attractive commissions if your referral books with us. Fifteen percent of the total value of the experience.”

I watched their eyes light up at that last detail. Commissions always did the trick.

Forty minutes later, we walked out of the agency with promises that they’d start recommending Valemont Estate to clients looking for authentic experiences outside the standard tourist circuit.

11

As we made our way down the cobblestone street in the historic center, Nick looked at me with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“Not that I don’t trust your ideas,” he began, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, “but where exactly are we supposed to find a renowned local chef?”

I looked at him and couldn’t hold back a laugh.

“From your kitchen, obviously,” I said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Martina.”

This time, Nick laughed, the sound echoing down the nearly empty street.

“My mother is going to love being called a renowned chef,” he said, shaking his head. “Her ego’s going to inflate even more. I’ll be hearing about this for at least the next six months.”

“She is an incredible cook, and everyone knows it,” I argued. “But how we sell it, how we position the experience, is what makes the strategy work. ‘Cooking class with the innkeeper’ sounds ordinary.’ Gastronomic workshop with a renowned local chef’ sounds exclusive. Worth paying extra for.”

“Marketing,” Nick said with a crooked smile. “You turn water into wine with pretty words.”

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Chapter 585

“Exactly,” I agreed.

We kept walking, and it took me a few minutes to realize we weren’t heading toward where the car was parked.

“Nick?” I called, stopping. “Where are we going? The car’s the other way.”

“Your renowned chef isn’t great at birthday cakes,” he explained. “So I ordered one for this afternoon. I figured since we’re already downtown, we could pick it up.”

I smiled, something warm spreading through my chest.

“Bella must be so excited,” I said as we started walking again.

“Excited doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Nick replied, and there was so much love in his voice it almost hurt to hear. “She can’t wait to blow out the candles and make a wish. She’s been talking about it every day this week.”

“What does she want to wish for?” I asked casually, though my mind was already spinning. If I knew what Bella wanted, maybe I could quietly make it happen without raising any suspicion about my actual financial reality.

“No idea,” Nick said, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. “She’s being completely mysterious about it. I just hope it’s not something outrageously expensive. Like a pony, or something equally impossible that kids ask for without understanding how much it costs.”

“Bella’s a very smart girl for her age,” I said thoughtfully. “She understands a lot more about what’s going on around her than you probably realize. I don’t think she’d ask for something she knows you can’t give

her.”

Nick was quiet for a moment, thinking that over.

“I can’t really argue with that,” he admitted finally. “She’s scary perceptive sometimes. For the party, all she asked for was a simple cake to sing happy birthday with her school friends and-”

He glanced at me from the corner of his eye.

“And that you’d come.”

My heart gave that familiar little jump.

I’d driven straight from Florentia that morning, leaving at five a.m. to make it to the meetings on time. I hadn’t stopped by Valemont Estate yet. I hadn’t seen Bella.

“I hope she likes the surprise, then,” I said with a smile.

The bakery was small but charming, its display cases filled with desserts that looked like miniature works of art. The scent of sugar and vanilla hung in the air, almost intoxicating.

A woman in her fifties, gray hair pulled into a neat bun, greeted us with a smile that faded quickly when Nick introduced himself.

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“Oh, Mr. Valemont,” she said, her expression turning visibly uncomfortable. “About the birthday order…”

I felt Nick tense beside me.

“Yes?” he asked, caution creeping into his voice.

“We had a small… incident,” the woman explained, wringing her hands. “A new employee who was organizing the orders ended up… well, misplacing yours. It wasn’t processed correctly and didn’t make it onto today’s production list.”

I saw Nick’s jaw tighten, his shoulders going rigid.

“I see,” he said, his voice carefully controlled, even though the frustration was obvious in his eyes.

“But it’s no problem at all!” she rushed to add, gesturing toward the display cases. “We have several cakes fresh out of the oven. Beautiful, delicious, perfect for a child’s party. You just need to choose the flavor you like, and I’ll decorate it myself in under an hour. Any design you want.”

• Before we could respond, she disappeared into the back and returned moments later with a tray holding at least a dozen small cake squares.

“Tasting samples,” she announced, setting the tray on a small counter. “We have classic chocolate, chocolate with cherry filling, vanilla with cream, Sicilian lemon, red velvet…”

I looked at Nick. He looked at me. We both seemed a little overwhelmed by all the options.

“Let’s just… try a few,” I suggested, picking up one of the chocolate squares.

The flavor exploded on my tongue. Moist, rich, perfectly balanced between sweet and bitter.

“This one is incredible,” I murmured, licking a crumb from the corner of my mouth.

Nick tried the same one, and I watched his eyes close briefly in appreciation.

“It really is,” he agreed.

We kept tasting. The vanilla was light and delicate. The Sicilian lemon refreshing, but maybe too grown- up for a kids’ party. The red velvet looked beautiful but was a little too sweet.

At one point, while Nick was chewing, a crumb stuck to the corner of his mouth. Without thinking, I reached out, my thumb brushing it away before my brain caught up with what I was doing.

Our eyes met. He went completely still, just looking at me, my thumb still resting lightly against his skin.

“Crumb,” I explained unnecessarily, my voice softer than I meant it to be.

“Thank you,” he said, just as quietly.

Neither of us pulled away right away.

“Try the chocolate with cherry,” the baker suggested from behind the counter, completely oblivious to the

tension between us.

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I finally stepped back, grabbing another piece of cake just to give my hands something to do.

We continued tasting, the silence between us now more comfortable, exchanging occasional glances,

our fingers brushing accidentally when we reached for the same sample.

That was when the baker returned, wiping her hands on her apron.

“So?” she asked eagerly. “Have you decided?”

“Chocolate,” we said at the same time, then turned to look at each other and laughed.

“The classic one,” I added.

“Definitely,” Nick agreed, still smiling at me in that way that made my stomach flip.

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