Billion Dollar Chance - Linnea May Page 0,16

here, mostly other government buildings in the nearest vicinity and a late autumn sky so blue that it almost seems unnatural. Clear skies always come with cold temperatures and my favorite season of all. Unlike most people, I appreciate the darker seasons; the fall with its colorful play and winter with its heavy snowfall and unpredictable blizzards. Blizzards deserve my respect, because they have an unparalleled power to make everything and everyone shut up and slow down for a while. Sure, they are a nuisance and turn the roads into an icy hellhole, but if you ask me, the world is so much better with a muting coat of snow. It’s more beautiful, too. Cleaner, tidier, and slower.

My eyes trail back into the room, resting on a little group of origami animals that inhabit the area around my computer screen. I started folding little paper creatures shortly after starting college, and it’s become a self-soothing habit ever since. It requires just enough focus to keep my mind occupied, without being too demanding—which is why I usually stick to the few animals I can fold by heart. I rarely ever expand my range in this area, and when I do, it’s usually because life is torturing me with a little extra strain.

I produce another sheet of colorful origami paper and begin folding, while I continue my fruitless contemplations regarding Ella—and her impromptu call.

I can’t deny my heart’s leap of excitement when I first saw Ella’s name appear on the screen. I never deleted her number, and as it seems, she kept mine, too. But why? Was she just lazy, or did I still occupy a space in her little head?

No, that can’t be it. She broke up with me. And she screeched at me like a delirious witch when we ran into each other. She knew we would come face to face in that meeting and she kept it a secret from me, even though she clearly still has my number and could have warned me. She chose not to, and that must mean she didn’t want to make a bigger deal of something that means nothing to her.

I mean nothing to her. I know that much.

And she should mean nothing to me, either. The boys are wrong about a lot of things, but they were right to remind me that Ella is nothing but trouble. I shouldn’t agonize over the meaning behind her message. In fact, I shouldn’t even acknowledge it. I should just delete it and go on with my day.

Yes, that’s what I should do. Her out-of-nowhere call came in the evening. Who knows, maybe she was just drunk and bored, and thought she could call me for a booty call “for old time’s sake” or some shit like that?

My thumb hovers above the delete button a little too long, but I manage to go through with it. For all I know, she’s not even thinking about the call anymore. I’m sure it was a spur of the moment thing—the thought gone as quickly as it came.

“Mr. Boulder?”

I jerk up in surprise and find Therese standing in the door, a slightly worried look on her face that suggests she’s been calling my name more than once.

I raise my eyebrows, throwing her an investigative look. “Yes?”

“I just wanted to know if there’s anything you need me to prepare for the fundraiser gala this weekend?” She wants to know. “You are attending, aren’t you?”

The slightly admonitory tone in her voice annoys me just as much as the prospect of this dumb gala I agreed to. These events are always the same, always boring as hell and so pretentious that even the thought of it makes me sick to my stomach.

I nod, albeit reluctantly.

“And you are bringing a date?” Therese probes further. “It’s just that the organizer is asking, and it would look good if—”

“Yes, I can bring a date,” I interrupt her. I know where she was going with this. For some reason, it appears unseemly to show up at these events by myself. Even if the replaceable beauty hanging on to my arm is a new face every single time.

Therese nods as if to check off a task from her to-do list.

“Can you think of anyone?” I tease her, adding a little wink. I’m sure she’d love to pick a proper date for me. Hell, she’d love to fix me up with a wife, to tame my “unsettled ways” as she once called it.

It’s probably for the best that