He waved a hand. “That’s good for business.”

I ran my foot along his calf. “That’s not the reason you’re doing it.” I pointed my fork at him. “I see the good guy under the bossy billionaire exterior. I should have known when you made that big donation at the masquerade.”

“It was for charity. It’s a tax deduction.”

I rolled my eyes.

He gave me a smile that made my heart do another pitty-pat. Then he leaned forward. “I’d better eat, or the chef might throw a tantrum.”

“You’d be doing me a favor to keep him happy.”

We settled in to eat the delicious food. I sipped my wine and enjoyed the fruity flavor.

“Between your friends and family, you mustn’t have much time to yourself,” he said.

“I like spending time with them. It’s the summer, so my cousins are always over at my place.” I told him all about Haley, Caleb, Leo, and Josh. My tales of Simba had him laughing out loud as he ate the trout.

“Your aunt must be a hell of a woman to take in a child when she was barely an adult.”

“She’s the best. She’s such a good mom and she runs the cutest little gift store in town.” I took another sip of wine but my stomach felt… off.

Reaching over, I poured myself a glass of water and sipped some. I tried to shake off the weird feeling. But a moment later, I felt a little dizzy.

“Tessa?”

I blinked. Ro was frowning at me, his face a little out of focus.

“I feel… weird.” I put a hand to my chest and sucked in a sharp breath. “Ro…”

“What is it?” He shoved his plate away.

“My heart is racing.” I pressed my other hand to my stomach. “I feel like my stomach’s trying to tie itself in a knot.”

Nausea welled, hot and urgent.

Oh no. Leaping up, I raced to the powder room.

I made it in time to be sick in the toilet. Dropping to my knees, I retched until I had nothing left. My breathing was too fast, my heartbeat was racing. I dropped down on my butt, pulled my legs up, and rested my sweaty forehead on my knees.

Then a cool hand stroked my hair back. Oh God. He’d watched me vomit. He sat on the floor beside me, body pressed to mine. Oh God, I was sitting on the floor of a bathroom with Ambrose Langston.

He pulled me against him, and I flopped against his chest.

“Think I need to have words with Chef Harvey.” Ro’s voice was unhappy.

My heart was still racing uncomfortably. I closed my eyes, and he stroked my hair. If anyone had told me, just days ago, that I’d find comfort in Ambrose Langston’s arms after violently emptying my stomach, I wouldn’t have believed them.