Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Even if he was dying to tell them all.
Thankfully, none of them asked him. Maybe because Ava had told them it was none of their business.
He didn’t have another moment to think about it when Gabby said, “You seem to be talking an awful lot about Michaela Killian.” She speared him with a too-knowing gaze that made Troy think back. Had he talked about her that much? Sure, he’d lauded her accomplishments. But—
Gabby steamrolled right over him. “I think you’re smitten.”
He had to turn the tables on his little sister. “At least I’ve been on a date she set up for me. What about you?”
She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Michaela hasn’t found the right match for me.” She smiled like a cobra ready to strike. “Men are easy to match. Their needs are so one-dimensional. Women are much more discerning.” All the ladies at the table tittered. Then Gabby went in for the kill. “Even if she does find a match for me, you’re going to lose this bet.”
Dane’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what bet?”
Ava wagged her finger at both of them. “What have you two done?”
Before either Troy or Gabby could answer, Fernsby said in his most cultured British drawl, “These two—” He waved a hand between them. “—bet one million dollars on who would fall in love first.” His eye twitched. “But the million dollars will go to a good cause.” Was that a wink? No, Troy had to be wrong about that. Then Fernsby added, “No matter which of them loses, a worthy cause will benefit.”
Troy gaped at him. “How do you know all that?” Then he flashed a glare at Gabby. “Did you tell him?”
She clucked her tongue at him. “Why would I ever do that?”
Dane shook his head. “Guys, get a grip.”
Then all those matched couples chimed in unison, “Fernsby knows everything!”
Fernsby put a hand to his chest. And though Troy was sure he had to be mistaken, he thought that might be an eye roll. “Of course. I am Fernsby. And though some of you seem to be in doubt, Fernsby does know everything.”
A raucous round of laughter raced around the table. The other patrons glared at them, the waitstaff gawked, and the maître d’ appeared ready to rush over until, finally, they settled down.
Clay skewered Troy with a look. “Tell us about this match thing you’ve got going.”
“I hired Michaela Killian, the billionaire matchmaker, to find the perfect match for Gabby.”
Gabby snorted. “Fat chance.”
Ava gave Troy an equally piercing look. “Yes, Troy, tell us more about these matches.”
Troy couldn’t help the slump of his shoulders, then said in disgust, “I allowed those two women—” It was obvious to everyone he meant Gabby and Michaela. “—to con me into letting Michaela match me.”
Gabby had to jump in. “Only after you hired her to make a match for me.”
Saskia said with barely concealed laughter, “And?”
He told them everything. Even though Gabby was sitting right there. “I wanted Michaela to match Gabby, but she wouldn’t do it without talking to Gabby first. Then they concocted this idea that Michaela had to try to match us both for everything to be fair. So I let Michaela set me up on a date with a woman last Thursday because I was hoping to make Michaela jealous.”
Cammie gasped. “Did it work?”
If he wanted help, he had to be honest. “I’m not sure. She doesn’t appear to be jealous.”
Fernsby gave a soft snort that Troy chose to ignore. “All I found out is that Michaela won’t date billionaires. The lady I went on the date with told me that.”
This time, he was sure Fernsby had rolled his eyes. With Rolly, it was hard to tell. His facial expressions were the most minute Troy had ever seen.
Then Fernsby said, “But, sir, as I recall, you asked her to set up another date for you. Was that more of you pursuing your goal of making her jealous?” He arched an eyebrow.
Troy shrugged—answer enough.
Fernsby didn’t let up. “You had dinner with Michaela after the book signing. Did you make any progress at all?”
“That’s when I learned all this incredible stuff about her.” Troy couldn’t help defending himself. “I call that some sort of progress.”
Then Ransom asked—why did he have to speak up now?—with a slight smirk on his lips, “Did you ask her why she doesn’t date billionaires?”
Once again, Troy could only tell the truth. “The timing wasn’t right.” In another defensive move, he added, “Is it ever right to ask a question like that?”
He was gratified that his family all seemed to nod in agreement with him. Then he burst out with his final coup. “That’s when I decided to ask her to help me find a yacht to buy.”
Clay thrust his hands in the air, but all he said was, “Dude.”
Dane asked the sensible question. “What do you want a yacht for?”