บททั้งหมดของ Too Late To Love Me, Mr Billionaire : บทที่ 201 - บทที่ 210

Adrian’s POVHis assistant had reorganized his calendar three times in the last month and each time she’d moved the same block, a two hour window on Thursday afternoons he’d originally labelled personal and never filled, because every time Thursday came around he sat in his office and thought about what to do with it and came up with nothing and let it pass.He was looking at it again now.His office at Westbrook house was on the second floor, the one he’d converted from a guest room two years ago when he decided he was done commuting to the Westbrook Industries building for everything, floor to ceiling shelves on two walls, a desk that faced the window and looked out over the west garden, and a silence that was different from the silence in the building downtown.He leaned back in his chair and looked at the calendar.Kira’s birthday was in two weeks.He’d been thinking about it for a month, which was not something he would have done a year ago, or two years ago, or at any point duri

Kira’s POV“The acidity is right but the portion is too generous for an opener,” Kira said, setting the spoon down. “If someone eats that full portion they won’t have the appetite for the fish course and the fish course is the best thing on this menu.”Her head chef, David, made a note without arguing because he’d worked with her long enough to know she was right before he’d even checked his own instincts against it.“Cut it by a third,” Kira said. “Keep the garnish exactly as it is, the garnish is perfect.”“The garnish took me two weeks,” David said.“I know. It shows. Don’t touch it.” She moved to the next dish. “What’s this one.”“New venison. Juniper and blackberry reduction, parsnip purée, crispy shallots on top.”She tasted it and stood there for a moment and tasted it again.“David.”“Yes chef.”“This is really good.”He looked at the ceiling briefly with the expression of someone receiving a compliment they’d been working toward for a long time and didn’t know what to do with

Kira’s POVElena had said forty people and delivered fifty-three.Kira counted them from the doorway of the dining room before she walked in, a habit from restaurant service, always know your numbers before you step into a room, and she stood there for exactly three seconds taking in the tables pushed together and the candles and the flowers and the particular noise of a room full of people who were genuinely happy to be somewhere.“Mum said forty,” Kira said to Alyssa beside her.“Your mother has a flexible relationship with numbers,” Alyssa said. “Go in.”She went in.Elena found her within seconds, kissed both cheeks.“Happy birthday darling,” she said and handed her a glass of wine before she could complain about the number of people. Mum, who's the lady in pink, I’ve never seen her, Kira said…What about the man in grey suit, mum…..“Come and sit,” Elena said and steered her toward the nearest table before she could count anyone else.The room pulled her in the way full rooms did

Adrian’s POVHis phone rang at eight fifteen.He was in his office with his coffee and the Singapore quarterly he still hadn’t finished and the particular quiet of a Saturday morning in Westbrook house when the twins were at Elena’s and the whole building had nothing in it but him.He picked up.“Kira.”“Are you busy?”“No. What’s wrong?”She told him what she heard from the call Catherine had been on.He sat back in his chair and listened and didn’t say anything, not because he had nothing to say but because she needed to get through it first and interrupting her was not something he was going to do. She told him about the hallway and Catherine at the window and the phone and the voice and the name, Thomas, and the weekend plans and the me too at the end that landed the way those two words always landed when they were said to someone you weren’t supposed to be saying them to.When she finished the line was quiet for a moment.“Adrian,” she said.“I heard you.”“I’m not telling you th

Elijah’s POVKira ate like she hadn’t realized she was hungry until the container was open in her lap, which knowing her meant she’d been running since six in the morning and had skipped breakfast entirely because there was always something more pressing.Elijah ate beside her and didn’t mention it.The Cullinan was warm and the street outside was doing its Saturday afternoon thing and they sat in the passenger and driver seats with their containers and the paper bag between them on the console and didn’t talk for a few minutes.“The Copenhagen restaurant,” Elijah said. “Have you been to Lille?”“Which one.”“Vesterbrogade. Small place, maybe twenty covers, no printed menu, whatever the kitchen decides that day.”“I haven’t been.”“I went in October for a conference and went back three times in four days.”Kira looked at him. “Three times.”“There was a dish on the second night. Turbot, brown butter, preserved lemon, and something underneath it I still haven’t identified.” He looked a