One Weekend with the Billionaire novel Chapter 77

Over dinner, I want to ask Braxton more than just how his day was. When I ask him that question, he says, it was fine and tells me a little bit about the accounts he’s working on. We both know that’s not what I’m asking about, but he hasn’t volunteered any information about Jeff and his lawsuit. That’s what I want to know about, and Braxton knows it.

So… when the dessert is served, and we are almost done, I ask. "Have you heard anything from the lawyers yet?" That is pointed enough that he can’t just brush it away.

He puts a bite of tiramisu in his mouth as I am asking, so I have to wait until he is done chewing for a response. Once he swallows, he wipes his mouth politely on a napkin and finally says, "My lawyers made his lawyers an offer today, but I haven’t heard anything back yet. I think it’s a strong offer, one he can’t easily turn down." He gives me a reassuring smile and then takes another bite.

I take a bite, too. The tiramisu is delicious. I wish I could just concentrate on it and leave well enough alone. But I can’t. I have to ask. "What was the offer?"

Braxton sighs. He doesn’t want to tell me. He doesn’t want to worry me. We have never had an argument before, and I don’t intend to start one now over something as silly as what he thinks my husband will or will not take, but the fact that he would rather not say makes me want to demand that he do so.

"I made a monetary offer to him," Braxton says. That’s all he’s going to tell me unless I insist on knowing the amount.

I want to know the amount for reasons I can’t quite put my finger on. It’s stupid. It’s not my business. Braxton is used to dealing in monetary figures I can’t even fathom. So… whatever it is he has offered Jeff to get him to leave me alone, I’m sure it’s a solid offer. It’s not an offer of how much he thinks I am worth, that is for certain. Still, I want to know how much the offer is for. I try to focus on something else. Braxton asks if I like the dessert. I tell him I do, and he talks about his grandmother making a tiramisu from scratch once when he was younger.

I listen to the story, but my mind wanders back to the offer. I don’t want to ask him how much, though. Instead, I say, "What about the divorce? How is that going?" His lawyers are handling that as well.