Billionaire's Second Chance Triplets(9)

By: Ella Brooke

Not that it would have pleased his mother regardless, since she’d expected him to be a doctor. Anything else would’ve been slumming, even if Grant had created a new movement in the service industry nearly single-handedly.

“Hey, bitch!” Tamara sang cheerfully as she jogged up to Farley’s. She sat across the table from her and shook her head. “How on Earth do you get here so early?”

“I don’t sleep,” Kit replied flatly. Really, it was almost funny.

Tamara rose again to stretch her legs against her chair. A moment later, the clerk from inside returned with two plates: a lox bagel with thickly spread cream cheese and capers for Kit and a cup of organic yogurt with a side of granola for Tamara, who sat again and asked the waiter for water.

“God, that’s a lot of food in the morning,” Tamara said.

Kit shrugged. “It’s about half protein.”

“So is Greek yogurt.”

“I’m not ordering a cup of yogurt at a restaurant. I can get that at the store.” Kit unabashedly bit into her bagel and made loud noises deep in her throat.

“God, gross.” Tamara held her hand up to avoid looking at Kit and stirred her yogurt and granola with the other hand.

“Thank you.” Kit’s words were muffled around lox and bagel.

The two friends ate their Saturday morning post-run breakfasts as they exchanged stories about their weeks. Tamara talked about all of the drama going on at the gallery, and Kit mostly kept her comments related to her annoyances with Buck.

Casually, after they had finished eating and Kit was on her second cup of coffee, Kit asked, “Have you ever used SideHustle?”

“Constantly. I mean, we have some regulars at the gallery, but we can’t afford to keep errand boys around all the time, so we just search up someone to carry heavy items or run out to get things.” Tamara shrugged. “It’s pretty useful.”

“How did I not know this was a thing?”

“Probably because you’re annoying and you are the kind of person who will insist on moving and packing and painting an accent wall in your home by yourself.”

“You used the wrong word,” Kit drawled. “Instead of ‘annoying,’ you mean ‘self-sufficient.’ And they have people doing office work as well.”

Tamara nodded. “Yeah, one time, we were working in the back while Neese was on maternity leave, and we basically had a guy come and sit at the front desk for three hours just in case a buyer came in so they could come get us.”

Kit rubbed her fingers over her lips, thinking about that. Something about it bothered her, but she couldn’t put her finger on what.

“Did you read the article in Salon about the founder? God, he’s the hottest man I’ve ever seen. He must have a serious power tool going on, from the size of those hands.”

Jarred out of her thoughts, Kit looked up. “What?”

“The founder? Slash owner, I guess. He and two other people came up with the thing. But I think it was his idea, or they said so in the article.”

“Grant Wharton.”

“Yeppers. Gorgeous and loaded.”

“Well. I mean, his parents were surgeons. They were comfortable.”

Tamara cocked her head to the side. “Girl, are you crazy? That guy is a billionaire. He’s making money hand over fist with that app. Every independent business I know uses it, and from what I read, there are a lot of larger offices that use the SideHustle screening process to try out temps and things.”

Tamara sighed and stretched her arms over her head. “Don’t you wish you could come up with the next big thing everyone’s gonna use on their phones? If it’s not some stupid game about birds or pigs, it’s all these freelancing services.”

Kit blinked. Billionaire?

Grant really had sold himself short. Or did he think that she knew already? She wondered if that wasn’t something she should’ve figured out. While Kit could be a news junkie, she tended to ignore the business sections. It was just boring to her.

“I don’t know if I should say anything, but um… Last night…?”

Kit hesitated before launching into the story. Tamara’s eyes grew wider and wider until Kit finally finished with the part where she’d run off like a spooked Cinder-fellatio.

“I don’t believe you,” Tamara said after a very, very long silence.

Kit rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t lie about blowing a guy in a hotel kitchen.”

“No, I mean, why the hell did you just leave after that? He’s so into you. And he’s hot, and god, filthy rich.” Tamara spread her palms like Kit was the most incomprehensible creature in the world. “Plus, you clearly adore him. I’ve never seen you jump into a relationship that fast before. I’ve never seen you jump into a relationship period. You’re like, allergic to being in a relationship.”