Billionaire Happy After

What the

I wrenched my arm out of Christian's grip, almost breaking my wrist in the process and leapt up from my seat. "This is none of my business. I'm going."

Before Christian could say anything, or grab me again, I darted away and found a table across the restaurant.

Murder, really?

It couldn't have been something like, I don't know, 'I know you're gay'?

Maybe it was some kind of joke.

Pretty f****d up for a joke.

Then again this is Christian Harvey 

I'm pretty sure f****d up isn't a limit for him.

Who knows?

I pulled out my phone and unlocked it, but I could still see them from the corner of my eye. Helen had gotten our drinks now, about half a minute too late, and was making her way to the table. She set down the drinks, but didn't sit down, instead listened to them for a while. I think she started scolding them after that, judging from Asher's grimace and Christian's defensive expression.

Then to my surprise, she turned and made her way towards me.

Oh, she's dropping off my lemonade, I realized noticing the cup in her hand. That's nice of her.

"Here's your lemonade," she said when she reached my table, handing me my drink.

I glanced up from my phone, pretending I hadn't seen her coming. "Oh, thanks."

I expected her to leave once I took it, but she surprised me again by sitting down. "Sorry you had to listen to that," she told me.

Is she on damage control?

"It's okay." Not really.

"And sorry Christian kept you there," she added.

I rubbed my wrist. "It's not your fault. He kind of just held me hostage. Not really sure why, but it's not your fault."

"He probably didn't think we'd say anything if you were there," Helen said.

What?

That doesn't make any sense.

You're not curious,Gigs . Don't ask.

Oh, f**k it.

"Wouldn't he want to know something like that?" I asked.

She shrugged. "I think he didn't want to have to pick sides."

I blinked. "What do you mean?"

"He had to decide if he's going to tell his dad or not. Ian isn't close to his father by any terms, but it's still his dad."

I tried to imagine being in that situation, if I knew Dad had possibly murdered someone and they were looking for evidence. Would I tell him so he could, I don't know, hide the body and take off or something or let it play out and trust everything to him being innocent.

Yeah, that would suck.

I glanced back at Helen. "I can't tell if you're his friend, enemy or therapist."

She laughed. "Depends on His mood. My professors would probably love to analyze and counsel him, but I doubt he'd accept anyone else's advice."

"You're a psychologist?" I asked. s**t, was she keeping her eyes trained on me so she could figure out if I would tell? Trying to figure out what to say so I wouldn't tell?

"Studying to be one," she admitted. Then she confirmed my thoughts by continuing, "Look, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about what you heard."

"I won't," I said.

She stared at me for a moment, then, apparently having found whatever she had been looking for, pushed her chair back and stood up. "Thanks. It was nice meeting you, Georgia ."

"You too," I muttered, thought I wasn't sure if she heard me since she was already making her way back to Asher and Christian . I watched them talk for a moment, then glanced back at my phone, though I didn't do anything on it.

I hadn't lied when I said I wouldn't tell anyone about their conversation. What could I say anyway? It would be their word against mine, and they could easily play it off as a joke.

I wasn't gonna go up against some with the wealth and reach that Christian Harvey had. But even without his last name, he played mind games that you needed to study psychology to understand, I definitely didn't want to get involved with him.

Since we were skipping Cornell, we had a four hour drive to New Hampshire, to see Dartmouth College. Christian had insisted on driving, so I took the opportunity to catch up on some sleep. I hadn't intended to, but I found myself dozing out of boredom, since Christian was brooding and made pretty shitty company.

Not that I would've talked to him even if he wasn't moody.

I woke up to a soft drumming against the window. It was hard to tell through the sheet of rain and droplets on the window, but I think we were passing through the countryside. We were probably on the interstate, though I didn't see any other cars around. I reached into my pocket to grab my phone so I could check the time and see if Christian wanted to switch, but my fingers only met the fabric of my sweater.

That made me sit up straight.

Where's my phone?

I reached down beside me into the gap between the car door and the seat but it wasn't there. I checked all the pockets in my bag - nothing.

Where the hell is it?

"We need to go back," I said.

Christian turned to look at me. "What? Why? We crossed the Massachusetts border an hour ago. We're almost there."

Whoa, I had slept for a lot longer than I thought. We had been just passing the New York border into Connecticut when I had drifted off.

"I think I left my phone in the cafe." That didn't make sense, though, I was almost certain that I'd had it with me when we left. But then, where was it now?

"The screen's shattered. Do you really still want it?" he asked.

"It's my phone, I need it!" I gave him an incredulous look, then realized that he probably got a new phone every time there was so much as to a slight scratch on it.

Christian turned to back to face the road. "Why not just get a new one?"

"I'm across the country, I can't just get a new one now!" I exclaimed. But of course, I was talking to Christian Harvey , who would probably buy a Ferrari in Italy and not think twice about it or something. "Please can we just go back?"

Mom and Dad would kill me if they found out I lost my phone. Hopefully a worker at the cafe had found it and held onto it. Maybe if Christian wouldn't go back, I could get it mailed to me... But what if it was still just sitting on one of the tables and someone else picked it up?

Shit, I am so f****d.

"Come on, please!" I yelled when he ignored me.

He pulled over on the side road and shut off the RV. "Chill, I have it."

I stared at him. "What the f**k? That wasn't funny."

Christian unbuckled his seat belt and reached behind his seat into a bag and pulled out a box. I recognized it the Apple logo as well as the picture for the newest iPhone. "Here."

I continued staring at him. "That's not my phone."

"It is now," he said.

"What?"

He dropped the box in my lap. "Just take it."

Wait.

No.

He didn't.

This is Christian Harvey .

He wouldn't do something like this.

Nope.

"Did- Did you get me a new phone?" I asked, just to check.

I was expecting some kind of haha fooled you! instead he cleared his throat and replied, "yeah."

I blinked. "Why?"

He shrugged. "I ruined your other one."

"When- What- How?" I sputtered as my brain refused to function as anything other than a broken record.

Christian Harvey got me a new phone.

Christian Harvey got me a new phone?

Christian Harvey got me a new phone?!

"Apple store in Connecticut," he said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking more uncomfortable than I had ever seen him.

"What... What happened to my old phone?" I asked.

"They transferred everything onto that one," he replied. "They held onto it to replace the screen, though. It'll get shipped to you later."

"I- You- Why?"

"You said you shattered your screen because I almost ran you over," he said, staring at me. I couldn't tell if he was confused, or irritated.

"Yeah, but- We- You don't even like me," I blurted out.

He glanced away. "So?"

"Why?" I repeated.

He threw his hands up. "What do you want me to say in response to that question?"

"Nothing. Thanks," I muttered, even though I was still kind of confused. Maybe a new iPhone was like a replacing a pen to him, or something. Like you know, when you borrow a pencil or pen and lose it or break it, so you replace it if you're a nice person?

Christian shook his head, then turned to face the road and started the RV.

Or tried to.