She Was Never Just the Billionaire’s Wife (Natasha and Chase) novel Chapter 59

Chapter 59 Old Friends

(Gloria)

C

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The coffee shop on Melrose is the kind of place I choose specifically because nobody I know would go there.

Which is why, naturally, Piper Morton is sitting at the window table when I walk in.

Is it actually possible that this is a coincidence, or is she here to run into me spontaneously?

I’m not being melodramatic. With Piper this is a distinct possibility.

Her eyes meet mine and that half-second where I have the option to pretend I didn’t see her passes me by.

I’m too old for that particular cowardice anyway.

1 order my coffee and walk over.

“Piper.”

“Gloria.”

She gestures at the seat across from her with the precise economy of a woman who has decided to be civil and intends to see it through.

“Sit down, if you like.”

It’s a good thing I’m used to her ways, or I’d feel unwelcome.

She looks good.

Piper has the kind of bone structure that makes effort look optional, and she’s always known it.

Today she’s in a dark coat, no jewelry, her black hair pulled back from her face.

She looks like someone who slept well and still feels terrible, which is a combination I recognize because I’ve seen it on her before.

“I didn’t know you came to this part of town,” I say.

“I don’t, usually.”

She turns her coffee cup in a slow circle.

“I had a meeting nearby.”

“How’s your father?”

“Disappointed in Nathanial, as he should be. Pleased with himself. The usual.”

A pause.

“How’s your new best friend, Natasha?”

The question is pointed. Prickly. Deliberately phrased to try and get a reaction from me.

“She’s great,” I say, keeping my tone breezy. “We’re working together now.”

Piper’s lack of reaction tells me she already knew this.

Chapter Oka Fronda

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“At Mason Stein’s firm.”

hat’s right.”

“So she’s decided not to work at Warren Global again. Interesting.”

Piper nods as if this confirms something she’d already calculated.

She probably had.

Piper calculates everything, stores the results in perfect order, and retrieves them without warning when you’ve forgotten you gave her the information in the first place.

It used to be one of the things I found most remarkable about her.

And most aggravating.

“You’re protective of her,” Piper observes.

“She’s my friend.”

“You’re protective of everyone you decide belongs to you. Until you give up on them.”

She says it without heat, which makes it land harder than an accusation would.

I pick up my coffee and take a slow sip.

“How long are you in Los Angeles?” I finally ask.

“Another week. My father wants the Bauer transition finalized before he goes back.”

She glances at me.

“You’re working the same deal from the other side.”

“Funny how that keeps happening.”

“Isn’t it,” Piper says drily. “It must be the universe’s way of trying to tell us something.”

I finish my coffee faster than I need to.

“I should get back,” I say, gathering my coat.

Piper looks up.

There’s something in her expression that surfaces briefly and then gets put away with practiced efficiency.

“Of course,” she says.

I’m almost at the door when she speaks again.

“Gloria.”

I turn around.

She’s still at the table, both hands around her cup, looking at me with the particular expression I’ve spent considerable energy learning not to respond to.

“It was good to see you,” she says.

Chapter 9 Old Friminos

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It’s a simple sentence. Completely neutral.

e kind of thing you say to a former colleague or a distant acquaintance.

Except that Piper Morton does not say things she doesn’t mean.

She’s never once in the entirety of our acquaintance said something simply to fill silence.

And she’s looking at me right now with eyes that are doing a great deal of the work her mouth has decided not to

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