The Billionaire’s Girlfriend Bet - Leslie North Page 0,43

that all she could see were all the potential ways in which he’d leave the two of them flat on their faces.

“Is Mr. Blake coming?” Mollie asked as she bounded up to take her mother’s hand. Luckily, Michelle’s parents were already halfway inside the restaurant’s vestibule, admiring the western-themed decor.

“No, honey, he’s not coming with us today,” Michelle said, trying to infuse her voice with a finality that Mollie would understand as case closed.

“When is Mr. Blake coming over again?”

This time, Mollie asked it loud enough that Michelle’s mother turned toward them. “What was that?”

“Oh, Mollie’s just talking about one of my friends,” Michelle said.

“Mr. Blake just had a birthday.”

Michelle grimaced. “That’s enough, honey.” She really didn’t want to get into this now. She didn’t want her parents to get excited about the idea of her maybe finding love just to be disappointed when—if, if—things didn’t end well.

And while she did plan to let them know about Blake—or any future man, for that matter—she wanted to do it once she herself was 1000% sure. When no doubts or equivocation remained.

She just wasn’t quite there with Blake.

Her parents were distracted by the bubbly host, who asked how many there’d be and whether they wanted to sit with the cowboys or the outlaws.

“Cowboys!” Mollie shouted.

“Peanut, I thought you would have picked the outlaws,” Michelle’s dad teased.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing what the outlaws are up to these days,” Michelle’s mom mused, a wry grin on her face as the four of them followed the host past the high-backed booths and servers outfitted with big cowboy hats. Michelle grinned as she noticed their server pads tucked into aprons beside fake guns, like holsters that held all their necessary implements.

“This place is really cool!” Mollie gushed as she slid into the booth the host led them to. And for Michelle, seeing her daughter’s happiness was all that mattered. She just needed to know that her daughter enjoyed it. That she felt good in life. That Michelle hadn’t irreparably damaged her by choosing a man that she’d ultimately had to force out of her life.

“This is way better than anything we’ve got back home,” Michelle’s mom remarked. Michelle couldn’t keep the grin from spreading. Part of her was hopeful that her parents might consider relocating.

“I wish grandma and grandpa would move here,” Mollie said, echoing Michelle’s thoughts.

“Me too,” Michelle added.

Her parents exchanged a secret smile. The type that couples could have only after thirty years side-by-side. Michelle still wanted that—even though she sometimes doubted she might truly find a love that lasted that long.

“Then they could meet Mr. Blake too,” Mollie went on, rolling a red crayon the host had left for her back and forth over the table.

Michelle’s mom’s brow shot up. “Now who is this Mr. Blake?”

“Just a colleague. And, well, a friend,” Michelle said, something wrenching in her chest. She felt somehow guilty for the misdirection—but now wasn’t the time to drop the dating bomb to both her parents and Mollie. “I met him through work. Actually, he owns the team I work for.”

“Huh,” her dad said.

They looked placated, so Michelle busied herself in scouring the menu for her lunch. Mollie picked her tried-and-true grilled cheese, and Michelle opted for a buffalo chicken salad and a bowl of soup. The four of them had a good time chatting and enjoying the occasional cowboy dances that took place in the aisles at random times, always punctuated with a guttural “Yee-haw!”

By the time their plates were cleared, Michelle was ready to get back to walking around the city, seeing sights with the family. But the server returned with an enormous platter—with three decadent slices of chocolate cake on top.

“Wooooow,” Mollie said.

“Dad, did you get this?” Michelle asked, sending him a knowing look. He was the biggest freak for chocolate cake of all of them.

His brows drew together. “No, I didn’t.” He tipped his head up to look at the server. “There must be a mistake—we didn’t order this.”

“No worries. It’s on the house. Paid for by a Mr. Blake Harrison.” The server smiled at the four of them. “He said to enjoy.”

Once the server walked away, Michelle’s mom’s brows were so high they’d practically lodged into her hairline.

“Just a colleague, she tells us.” Her mom stabbed a forkful of cake. “Hm. I’d be curious to see what a real boyfriend might look like with this one.”

Michelle had a hard time hiding her grin. So the secret was out—partially, at least.

And dammit, she was kind of