Despite the Gentleman's Riches: Sweet Billionaire Romance (For Richer or Poorer Book 1) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Aimee Easterling
side. "You don't know me from Adam." As he spoke, Jack was quickly moving my posters again so that they were held up by a handy telephone pole, one that I wasn't so sure had been present before my companion needed it. Did even inanimate objects jump to fulfill this guy's every wish? "We can take your car for safety," he said breezily. "If I turn out to be a psychopath, just club me over the head and push me out the door. Should we stop and buy a baseball bat?"
"We only have an hour," I muttered. Then I realized, when Jack smiled, that I'd conceded the debate. Mr. Fish Sticks sure did know how to get his way.
***
Although pushy, Jack was far from predictable. I was too shell-shocked by his charismatic presence to try to speculate about what he wanted to show me, which was a good thing since I never would have guessed our destination in a million years. What Jack wanted to share was...his kid sister.
" Half sister," the fifteen-year-old growled when Jack led me into the immense sitting area of a ridge-top mansion that I hadn't known existed before today, even though the residence was located a mere ten-minute drive from town. "Statistically speaking, we're supposed to share, like, twenty-five percent of our DNA," the girl continued. "But it could be as little as zero percent."
"Or as much as fifty percent," Jack said easily, the warmth of his current smile entirely different from the expression I'd seen on his face previously. I realized now that my companion had only been playing at hunting down a date with me, but that he was completely serious about his love for his sister. While the thought should have made me feel slighted, it actually forced me to like Jack a little bit more. (I could just hear the resident math whiz telling me that a little bit more than nothing was still very nearly nothing.)
"I'm Ginny," I said instead of commenting on Jack's show of affection, holding out my hand to the girl as if she were an adult. At least I'd learned something from my companion's aggressive behavior—how to trap the unwary into forced contact. Like me, his little sister took the bait, and my hand.
"Lena," she mumbled, her eyes on the floor.
"You must have Ms. Cooper for biology," I continued, the girl's lack of enthusiasm insufficient to prevent me from trying to build a connection between us. There was something about the teenager that drew my focus, giving me a much-needed break from the sexual tension zinging between myself and her half-brother. Even though Lena was clearly a rich kid with access to every doodad she desired, her heart still seemed as wounded as mine had been at that age, and I couldn't help wanting to know the girl's story. I itched to see if I could coax a smile out of her morose face; I yearned to help Lena plant her soul into an apple tree the way I had done so that expanding tree roots could help her human heart flourish. So I tried to build on what we had in common—a shared interest in biology. "She's a great teacher, isn't she?" I continued.
Or maybe we didn't have any interests in common after all. "Only losers go to public school," the girl retorted, looking up at me with pure disgust evident on her face. I backpedaled in my analysis of the situation. Perhaps I wasn't seeing a wounded heart, but was instead falling prey to incipient sociopathic tendencies. Given that Lena shared twenty-five percent of her DNA with Jack, the latter did seem more likely.
"My darling sister recently got kicked out of a Swiss boarding school," Jack said lightly, as if his sibling's obvious pain was a joking matter. I opened my mouth to take her brother to task for his tactlessness, but Mr. Fish Sticks' raised eyebrows made me pause just long enough to allow Lena to fill the conversational opening instead.
"I quit boarding school," she corrected.
"Quit?" I couldn't help asking. How does one quit boarding school, exactly? Drop out, maybe. Flunk out, certainly. But quit ?
"Stole a jet and flew to Paris,"
"We only have an hour," I muttered. Then I realized, when Jack smiled, that I'd conceded the debate. Mr. Fish Sticks sure did know how to get his way.
***
Although pushy, Jack was far from predictable. I was too shell-shocked by his charismatic presence to try to speculate about what he wanted to show me, which was a good thing since I never would have guessed our destination in a million years. What Jack wanted to share was...his kid sister.
" Half sister," the fifteen-year-old growled when Jack led me into the immense sitting area of a ridge-top mansion that I hadn't known existed before today, even though the residence was located a mere ten-minute drive from town. "Statistically speaking, we're supposed to share, like, twenty-five percent of our DNA," the girl continued. "But it could be as little as zero percent."
"Or as much as fifty percent," Jack said easily, the warmth of his current smile entirely different from the expression I'd seen on his face previously. I realized now that my companion had only been playing at hunting down a date with me, but that he was completely serious about his love for his sister. While the thought should have made me feel slighted, it actually forced me to like Jack a little bit more. (I could just hear the resident math whiz telling me that a little bit more than nothing was still very nearly nothing.)
"I'm Ginny," I said instead of commenting on Jack's show of affection, holding out my hand to the girl as if she were an adult. At least I'd learned something from my companion's aggressive behavior—how to trap the unwary into forced contact. Like me, his little sister took the bait, and my hand.
"Lena," she mumbled, her eyes on the floor.
"You must have Ms. Cooper for biology," I continued, the girl's lack of enthusiasm insufficient to prevent me from trying to build a connection between us. There was something about the teenager that drew my focus, giving me a much-needed break from the sexual tension zinging between myself and her half-brother. Even though Lena was clearly a rich kid with access to every doodad she desired, her heart still seemed as wounded as mine had been at that age, and I couldn't help wanting to know the girl's story. I itched to see if I could coax a smile out of her morose face; I yearned to help Lena plant her soul into an apple tree the way I had done so that expanding tree roots could help her human heart flourish. So I tried to build on what we had in common—a shared interest in biology. "She's a great teacher, isn't she?" I continued.
Or maybe we didn't have any interests in common after all. "Only losers go to public school," the girl retorted, looking up at me with pure disgust evident on her face. I backpedaled in my analysis of the situation. Perhaps I wasn't seeing a wounded heart, but was instead falling prey to incipient sociopathic tendencies. Given that Lena shared twenty-five percent of her DNA with Jack, the latter did seem more likely.
"My darling sister recently got kicked out of a Swiss boarding school," Jack said lightly, as if his sibling's obvious pain was a joking matter. I opened my mouth to take her brother to task for his tactlessness, but Mr. Fish Sticks' raised eyebrows made me pause just long enough to allow Lena to fill the conversational opening instead.
"I quit boarding school," she corrected.
"Quit?" I couldn't help asking. How does one quit boarding school, exactly? Drop out, maybe. Flunk out, certainly. But quit ?
"Stole a jet and flew to Paris,"
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