Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 601

Chapter 601

Gwen’s POV

Dinner was being held at the spot we’d set up a few weeks ago, the highest point on the property with that unbeatable sunset view. But now it was different. Transformed.

It wasn’t makeshift anymore.

Nick had invested in it. He’d built a rustic wooden roof with clay tiles that protected us from the rain while still keeping that open-air feel. He’d installed sturdy wooden tables, long comfortable benches, and upgraded the lighting with fixtures that looked like old lanterns hanging from twisted wires stretched across the beams.

And somehow, none of it took away from the authenticity. It was still rustic. Still real. Just more solid. More intentional.

All the guests were there tonight, not just Darius and Laura. About twenty people were scattered across the tables, enjoying Martina’s incredible food, drinking wine from our own vineyard, chatting animatedly while the orange sky washed everything in that magical golden light..

It was going surprisingly well, considering my bandaged hand and the scare from earlier.

I’d spent the entire afternoon. subtly avoiding Laura. Not in an obvious way. I just happened to be strategically busy every time she drifted a little too close.

Now that everyone had finished eating and settled into that relaxed, post-dinner haze, I’d stepped away from the main tables. Bella had found me and begged to go on the swing, the one hanging from the old

oak tree that she loved so much.

“Higher, Gwen!” she squealed, laughing as I pushed her. “Higher!”

“You’re already pretty high, sweetheart,” I said, giving her another push. “Any higher and you’ll take off.”

“I want to fly!”

I laughed and kept pushing her in a steady rhythm. My bandaged hand throbbed a little with the motion, but not enough to stop me.

That’s when I heard the voice behind me.

“So, Gwen Kensington?”

I froze.

Slowly, I turned around. Laura was standing there, smiling, her arms crossed casually.

“Oh my God, why didn’t you say something before?” she went on, her voice excited but low.

I glanced around in a flash of panic. No one had heard. The tables were far enough away. The soft background music swallowed any nearby conversations. Only Bella was close, still swinging happily and

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humming to herself.

“Bella, sweetheart,” I said quickly, gently slowing the swing, “can I have a grown-up conversation for just a minute? And while you’re at it, save us a piece of panna cotta to share later, okay? Before it’s all gone.”

“Okay!” she chirped, hopping off the swing and racing back toward the tables where Martina was serving dessert.

I waited until she was completely out of earshot before facing Laura again.

“I’m sorry,” Laura said quickly. “Did I say something I shouldn’t have?”

I took a deep breath.

“Not exactly,” I replied carefully. “It’s just that here… I’d rather not be identified as Kensington. This is a separate business, completely independent from my family’s winery. And you know how it is. My last name tends to walk into the room before I do. People hear ‘Kensington’ and immediately form expectations. They make assumptions. They draw conclusions.”

Laura nodded slowly, understanding settling over her features.

“Of course,” she said. “I get it. It must be exhausting sometimes. Always being the last name first, the person second.”

“Exactly,” I said, relieved she understood so quickly.

She looked around at the decorated space, at the guests laughing and lingering over their wine, at the spectacular view stretching out beyond the property.

“But you know,” she said, turning back to me, “you really know what you’re doing here. And it’s not about your name. It’s about you. This place is honestly incredible, Gwen.”

Something warm bloomed in my chest at the compliment.

“Really?” I asked, needing to be sure it wasn’t just polished influencer politeness.

“Completely serious,” Laura confirmed. “This place has authenticity. It has soul. It’s not just another Valentian estate with pretty vineyards like so many we’ve visited. It almost feels like… home. But a home where my breakfast is ready when I wake up and someone makes my bed every day.”

I laughed, the tension finally draining from my shoulders,

“I’m glad you liked it,” I said honestly. “Especially since you’re used to much more luxurious places. Five- star hotels, exclusive resorts, that kind of thing.”

“Everything has its place. Its audience,” she said with a shrug. “Luxury has its role. But for people who are looking for something real, this is exactly where they should be,”

“We’re working hard on visibility,” I explained. “Because I know the potential Nick has here. The property, the history, Martina’s food, the view. We just need to show it to the world the right way.”

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“And whatever I can do to help with that, I’m in,” Laura said immediately. “The videos and photos we shot today will have huge reach. And I’ll recommend it to other content creators I know.”

I smiled, genuinely grateful.

“So,” I asked, a little nervous, “what’s your rating? Honestly.”

Laura paused, glancing around again like she was mentally scoring everything.

“Hmm… so far, a 4.5 out of 5.”

“That’s great!” I said, relieved.

“It becomes a perfect five if you upgrade the mattresses,” she added with a grin.

“I know!” I laughed. “You wouldn’t believe it, but I already know exactly which ones to buy. I’ve researched suppliers, prices, everything. I just don’t know how to convince Nick to spend more money on that when he thinks the current ones are good enough.”

Laura smiled and stepped a little closer.

“You can count on me anytime you need,” she said. “For anything. Advice, connections, whatever. It’s obvious you’re literally bleeding for this place.”

She tilted her head toward my bandaged hand.

“I can’t believe you did that just to stop me!”

We both laughed, light and genuine.

That’s when I heard footsteps approaching.

Nick walked toward us, hands in his pockets, a curious expression on his face.

“Stop you from what?” he asked, looking from me to Laura.

Laura didn’t miss a beat.

“From making the enormous mistake of eating that incredible ragù with the completely wrong wine,” she said effortlessly, “She really knows what she’s doing. Saved my influencer reputation.”

She shot me a quick, discreet wink before stepping away.

“I’m going to grab more of that wine she recommended,” she added, already heading back toward the tables. “See you

later!”

Nick stayed where he was, watching the two of us as Laura walked off, clearly sensing there was more to that conversation but unable to figure out what.

When she was far enough away, he turned fully toward me.

“So?” he asked, that enigmatic smile from earlier returning. “Ready?”

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I looked at him. At those green eyes studying me with an intensity that made my heart kick harder in my

chest.

“Ready.”

D

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