Billionaire's Second Chance Triplets(6)

By: Ella Brooke

“As if you aren’t one of them.”

“Anesthesiologists don’t get paid badly either, kid, or you wouldn’t have been able to afford that prep school that we attended together.” Grant shook his head. “But don’t tell my mother I said so.”

“Did you ever give in to her?” Kit asked with a bit of teasing in her voice. “Are you Dr. Wharton now?”

Grant scoffed and turned to pluck two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. “Perish the thought. I’ve disgraced the family name, but I’m not at all a doctor. Not even one of the specialties the lordly surgeons look down upon.”

Kit shook her head. “The family shame.”

She cast a glance over her shoulder, and Grant frowned. Were she and that asshole a thing? Had he walked into a couple’s spat and unwittingly played into their games? Grant found that if you slept with enough women, you were likely to find a few with their own agendas beyond a little mutual fun.

Grant handed a glass to her, and Kit looked at it dubiously, then took it.

“Where are those damn lobster puffs? I’ve been getting food blocked all night,” she said.

Grant chuckled—he remembered how healthy an appetite Kit had—and offered his hand. “Let’s do a lap. We can ostensibly socialize while chasing the waiters down.”

“That I will agree to, definitely.” Kit hooked her arm into his. “I don’t remember your mother ever failing to serve dinner at a function like this. Just hors d’oeuvres? With this much champagne floating around?”

“It’s like a frat party. With doctors,” Grant replied cheerfully.

The look on Kit’s face when she finally got to eat a lobster puff was priceless. She sank her teeth into the puff and rolled her eyes back in her head. Then she draped a hand over her forehead as though she were about to faint.

Grant couldn’t help but laugh. He didn’t know if it was the champagne or the years that had passed; Kit was still herself, but she was also so much more. It was like she had finally settled into her awkward teenage skin and come out a confident, curvaceous woman. No more hiding behind sweaters. No more hiding behind her hair.

He wanted to pull her close to him and see if her lips still felt as soft, and if her kiss was as confident and fiery as she seemed now.

But Grant bided his time. He could see her coworker lagging behind them, as though waiting for Grant to leave and give him the opportunity to smear his grubby little hands on her again. Grant had no intention of doing that. In response, he threw a casual smile back to the man and fetched two mini-quiches from a nearby waiter.

After a bit of food and her third (she said) glass of champagne, Grant and Kit retired to a far wall, chatting about their careers and where they were located in the city. Kit remained close to the center, of course, with her job, but Grant held back in fully explaining his situation. For some reason, he didn’t want her to know quite yet… He wanted her to settle into knowing him again first.

“Imagine my mother’s feelings on the matter. I run an app. I’m in charge of a program you use on your phone. How ridiculous is that?” Grant was proud of being able to suppress his smile.

“I mean, as long as you make ends meet, I don’t see a problem with it. What app is it?”

“SideHustle. Have you heard of it?”

Kit’s eyebrows shot up. “Isn’t that one of those task sharing apps? Like, oh, what is it? I can’t remember the name. Task Rabbit? Fiverr? They’re all named after bunnies.”

“It’s exactly like that. Anyone can get on and offer their services to people in the city, and people can put out requests for something they do, and come and say, build a sofa or wash their dishes real quick or organize their file cabinets, or write/edit something the Sider needs,” Grant explained. “Only we’ve sunk more resources into training and participant screening. A program like ours is an easier start-up if anyone can do it, but we’ve got a number of corporations that are doing their temp hiring through our app because people can trust our contractors and we’ll make sure the workers get paid.”

“That must’ve been hard. There’s so much competition.”

“There’s less than you’d think. I have a harder time explaining this to people in my mother’s generation. They don’t know what any of these apps are, aside from Uber.” Grant shrugged. “People just don’t think about having someone run errands for them. But the truth is, you and I grew up with parents who had all of these things done for them regularly. My mother never did a day of laundry once she got into medical school. She just sent it out. With my app, people have someone come do the laundry for them while they’re doing other things.”