Home > Books > Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires, #3)(78)

Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires, #3)(78)

Author:Lauren Asher

If I ever can.

43

ALANA

“You want us to go to dinner with your family?” My fork slips from my hand, and the scrambled eggs splatter against the plate.

Cal rubs the back of his neck. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. It’s just that I haven’t seen Declan in a while, and Iris flew out all this way since my birthday is next week…”

Shit. His birthday!

I completely forgot about that. It’s been so long since I actually acknowledged the day.

“You’re having a birthday dinner here? At Dreamland? Why?”

“Because my family is nosy and insufferable.”

“So just the usual?”

He chuckles.

“I don’t know…” I hesitate, my gaze sliding over to Cami, who raises her fork in the air like an airplane before stabbing a piece of her pancake.

“I understand.” The skin surrounding his eyes tightens. “No worries. My family can be a bit overbearing, so I don’t blame you.”

“It’s not that.” I stumble over the words.

“Then what?”

Yeah, Alana, then what?

“Isn’t having dinner with the family kind of…serious?”

“Only if you want it to be. I’d love for you to come, but I understand if you don’t want to.”

He took your kid to Dreamland. The least you can do is go to a dinner for him.

I look over at Cami. “I can’t leave Cami alone.”

“Of course not. Everyone is excited to meet her.”

“They are?”

He pulls out his phone and shows me a group chat he shares with Zahra and Iris.

I stifle my laugh. “Bad and Boozie?”

He looks up at the ceiling as if he needs to pray for patience. “I didn’t come up with it.”

“God, I hope not.”

“It’s the chat the two of them created to get on Declan and Rowan’s nerves after we went to brunch one time.”

“And does it?”

“Astronomically, which is the only reason I would willingly stay in a chat with the two of them. I have the notifications silenced most of the time.”

I laugh as I check out the chat. The first photo is a selfie that Cal took of the three of us eating funnel cakes in front of the castle. I’m clearly trying to clean Cami’s face, which is covered in powdered sugar as she devours the fried dough, while Cal grins at the two of us with an expression that makes my chest pinch. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him look that happy before—that at peace.

Not even in the photo of us on the dock sharing cholados Colombianos.

Iris

OMG. Funnel cakes? One-on-one meet-and-greets with princess? A private dinner inside the castle with an exclusive chef? You’re completely spoiling them.

As it should be.

Zahra

Falls over from swooning so hard.

Zahra

I’m jealous I had to work instead of hanging out with them all day.

Iris

Well, I’m jealous that you met them already!

Maybe you can meet them tomorrow.

Iris

Really?!?!

Zahra

Yes!!!

Zahra

Can you imagine me screaming?

I said maybe…

Iris

How can we turn that into a yes?

I haven’t even gotten around to asking her yet.

Iris

Tell her that I have been dying to meet her for years ever since you cried about her.

I end up laughing so hard that Cal frowns.

“You cried over me?” I wheeze.

He steals his phone out of my hand. “I had something in my eye.”

“What? A reality check?”

He scratches his eyebrow with his middle finger, making me laugh again.

“So, what time is dinner?” I ask.

“Why?”

“Because I’m dying to hear all about you from Iris.”

His head drops back with a sigh. “Worst idea ever.”

Cal asks the golf cart driver to stop the cart outside of a row of warehouses. Cami looks up from my phone to take in her surroundings before deeming them far less interesting than the video playing on the screen.

“Where are we?” I shield my eyes from the sun as I take in the various warehouses with people coming in and out of the front doors.

“This is where all the magic happens.”

My forehead wrinkles with confusion. “What does that even mean?”

“I’d rather show you instead.” He jumps off the cart and offers me his hand. Cami follows behind us, her head down as she continues watching the show on my phone.

“But what about going to the waterpark?” I take in my outfit of flip-flops, a one-piece, and a pair of jean shorts.

“As much as I’d love to spend the whole day with you in a swimsuit, that can wait for tomorrow.”

“But Cami—”

He cuts me off. “Is fine with what I have planned. She gave me the go-ahead herself yesterday. Right, kiddo?”

Cami throws him a thumbs-up without looking away from her screen.

“See?” Cal raises a brow.

“She was in on this the whole time?” My mouth drops open.

“Surprise.” Cami looks up with a wide grin.

“She didn’t say a single thing when I got her all dressed up in her swimsuit this morning.”

“Because he gave me money!”

I blink up at Cal. “How much?”

“Can you really put a price tag on discretion?”

“One thousand dollars!” Cami squeals, nearly dropping my phone.

“One. Thousand. Dollars?” My pitch rises at the end.

“I hustled him good, Mommy.” She holds out her fist for me to pound, something she no doubt learned from the man smiling beside me.

I press my palm against my forehead. “I’m not sure how I’ll survive the two of you.”

“Come on. We’re late.” He places his hand on the small of my back.

“Late for what?”

“You’ll see.” He leads us toward a blue door a little ways off from where the golf cart dropped us. With a tug, it creaks open.

The smell of fresh baked bread and cinnamon rolls hits me all at once.

“Oh my God.” I take a second sniff. “That smells amazing.”

His grin widens as he grabs my hand and pulls me inside. We walk through a semi-lit hallway before it opens into a massive kitchen with state-of-the-art everything.

“Bonjour!” A man wearing a white chef’s outfit waves his knife in the air.

“Tell me that’s not who I think it is.” I pull Cal back a step.

“Surprise.” He grins.

“You’re Alana?” Chef Gabriel asks with a hint of a French accent. He wipes the flour off his hand with a towel before offering me it to shake. His smile is even brighter in person than it is on those TV shows he guest stars on, making him look much more approachable than what would be expected of someone who gets paid to yell at bakers and critique their skills.

“Hi,” I squeak as I grab on to his hand.

Oh my God. You’re shaking hands with the Chocolate King.

My hand trembles in his, which he doesn’t comment on. I never thought I would be the kind of girl who would get starstruck, but here I am with my heart pounding in my chest and my palm sweating as I stand before the man whose career I have followed since I was in high school.

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