The Billionaire from Her Past

by Leah Ashton

  They were both quiet for a while. Two little girls with fairies painted on their cheeks came running past them, squealing and waving sequined wands.

  ‘Can you hurry up and finish your dinner, Seb?’ Mila said suddenly—and brightly. ‘Because we have to try these cupcakes. One is triple choc and salted caramel. How is that even possible?’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  SEB WAS ON the phone when Mila walked into his shop on Tuesday.

  He stood at the back, a shoulder propped against the bare brick wall. The new first floor was in, although the rafters were still exposed. Mila could hear the activity of tradesmen upstairs: the murmur of conversation punctuated by the occasional whir of a drill.

  Aaron, one of the labourers, was sweeping up a pile of rubble and sawdust near the shop window. He smiled a greeting. He was young and tall, with his red-blond hair arranged in a man bun and a cheeky glint to his eye.

  They’d spoken once before, when Mila had asked if she could retrieve some old coloured glass bottles from the skip. She’d thought maybe she could use the glass in some of her pieces. Or just use them as skinny vases. She wasn’t sure—she just thought they were pretty.

  Mila found herself smoothing her T-shirt against her hips as she walked towards Seb, but she stopped herself. She didn’t have to worry about looking nice for Seb. Besides, she was wearing a variation of what she wore every day—skinny jeans and a loose T-shirt with a loud print. Today the print was of nasturtiums. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone. Certainly not Seb.

  He’d seen her as soon as she’d walked in, his smile wide and welcoming. Mila grinned back. See. This was nice.

  She’d popped over to see if he was free for lunch. She’d made too much pasta last night, so thought she’d invite him up to her place for leftovers. Surely you couldn’t get more relaxed and friend-like than that.

  Although with the way her heart accelerated as she took in his work shirt, shorts and heavy boots...which she still wasn’t used to and still really rather liked...she decided that maybe she’d bring their bowls of penne downstairs, and they could eat in the workshop—with Sheri as a chaperon, of sorts.

  Oh, God. She was being ridiculous. Because what had happened on Friday at the beach markets had been a good thing. She was at pains to remind herself of that. Was there any better way to define their friendship then to bring another women into the equation? Seb should have gone after her, and spoken to her. She’d looked nice. Very pretty, too.

  There was simply no reason why he shouldn’t have. Least of all because of the way Mila had felt when she’d spotted them, her arms full with paella and a box of cupcakes.

  She should probably have expected that seeing Seb with another woman would feel like a knife to her heart. That seemed dramatic now, but it was how she’d felt. She’d stood there for a moment, utterly still, her insides all sliced up with pain.

  Which was silly. She had no right.

  Seb had made it clear—for him, being with Mila was wrong, even though for her it had felt right. And she just couldn’t argue with that. He could wrap it up in talk of being ‘terrible at relationships’, blah-blah-blah. But how stupid—as if Seb would never be with anyone else after Steph.

  He just didn’t want to be with her.

  Seb asked the person on the phone to hold on for a moment, before holding his phone against his chest. ‘Sorry, Mila, I’ll only be another minute. I’m having a major issue with this supplier—’

  ‘That’s fine,’ she said with another smile. She wasn’t in a hurry.

  ‘How are you, Mila?’ Aaron asked, behind her.

  Glad for something to do, she turned to face him. He really was quite handsome, although in a surfer, music festival kind of way.

  ‘I’m good,’ she said. ‘Busy day?’

  They chatted for a few minutes. Aaron had recently bought a new car that he described enthusiastically. Cars weren’t really Mila’s thing, but then she’d told all and sundry when she’d first got her new kiln, so she understood the excitement of a big, shiny toy.

  From the corner of her eye Mila saw Seb turn slightly away from them. His words were still calm, but there was definitely a layer of steel in what he said.

  ‘So I was wondering...would you like to go see it? With me?’

  ‘Pardon me?’ Mila said, suddenly realising the conversation had moved on from cars and their stereo systems.

  Aaron’s gaze was confident and his lips quirked upwards. ‘I asked if you wanted to see Agent X—you know, that spy movie? It’s cheap night tonight.’ He paused. ‘Not that I’d mind paying for full-priced tickets for you, of course.’

  Mila laughed at his aplomb, then realised he was being serious.

  ‘Oh,’ she said.

  ‘Unless,’ Aaron said, ‘you’ve got something going with my boss? Only I heard him tell one of the other guys you were just friends, so I thought—’

  Ouch.

  But it was true—once again, she really had nothing to be upset about.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘We are just friends.’

  Aaron grinned.

  Mila was flattered, and Aaron did seem very nice—if young—but...

  ‘Thanks for the invite, but—’

  Seb had finished his call and turned back to face them. She couldn’t read his expression—not at all. He was just watching them. Waiting for Mila to finish her conversation.

  What had she expected? Jealousy?

  ‘Actually,’ Mila said, ‘that sounds great. What time?’

  They swapped phone numbers before Aaron went back to his work and Mila walked over to Seb.

  ‘Hot date?’ he asked with a grin.

  Maybe his smile was forced. Maybe he didn’t meet her gaze. Or maybe he was simply pleased for her.

  It didn’t matter.

  ‘Something like that,’ she said, with a deliberately broad smile. ‘So, do you feel like some penne marinara? I made it and, without a word of a lie, it’s awesome.’

  * * *

  Seb went for a really long walk after dinner. His apartment was in East Perth, so he went past the cricket ground and down to the Swan River. He shared the path with late-night dog walkers, joggers and cyclists—the latter’s headlights blinding in the darkness.

  He hadn’t bothered to dress appropriately, so he was still wearing what he’d changed into after work—jeans, flip flops, a faded old T-shirt. So he didn’t really fit in with all the Lycra and the neon running shoes—but then, he wasn’t here to exercise. Although his pace wasn’t completely sedate. He found himself walking faster and faster, his shoes slapping on the bitumen in an attempt to outpace his thoughts.

  Maybe.

  Until now it had been easy to fill his brain and his day with stuff that didn’t involve Mila. With work, mostly. A new site purchase, an investor meeting, a marketing consultant. Then, later, with food. He must have perused every possible home delivery option, and then spent way too long reading online reviews before finally ordering. When his food had eventually arrived he hadn’t been hungry. Instead he’d just pushed it around with a fork before eventually conceding defeat and constructing a little tower of plastic containers in his fridge.

  So now he’d run out of things to distract his brain with. All that was left was Mila. Mila on her date. With Aaron.

  He thought he’d handled things quite well in his shop. He’d teased her, as was appropriate given he was her friend. And Aaron seemed to be a good guy. He was hard-working, reliable and enthusiastic about his job—all reasons why Seb should like him. Until today he had. Tonight...he didn’t.

  He didn’t like him at all.

  He’d tried telling himself that he was worried about Mila. That after Ben cheating on her, and her father letting her down—after losing Steph—the last thing she needed was to be hurt a
gain.

  After all, that was why he’d ended their kiss. Why he’d realised it was wrong. He just couldn’t be responsible for Mila being hurt again. He would not allow it.

  But that wasn’t the only reason he didn’t like Mila’s date. This wasn’t brotherly-type concern.

  Far from it.

  Maybe Mila was okay with him talking to other women—as she’d said at the markets. With him having relationships with other women.

  As they’d talked that night he’d agreed with everything she’d said: in theory.

  Because it was one thing for them both to talk about their hypothetical relationships in a hypothetical future. It was another for the future to be here right now.

  And right this instant Mila was on a date with another man. A man who wasn’t him.

  He hated that.

  The sea breeze was cool against Seb’s skin. He headed towards the new Elizabeth Quay and the bell tower, where restaurants perched along the water. Even on a Tuesday night people bustled about—it was a perfect early summer evening, before the weather became too hot to do anything but swim.

  Seb slowed his pace to a dawdle, and then came to a complete stop just to the side of the footpath. He stood on the grass, watching the small white caps on the river’s tiny waves.

  He wanted Mila.

  But he couldn’t have her.

  He couldn’t risk hurting her and losing her.

  Because she was all he had left.

  He couldn’t face the idea of his world without Mila.

  On the beach, she’d been so very wrong to label herself a substitute for Steph. That was doing a disservice to both women. Steph had irreplaceably been Steph, while Mila was irreplaceably Mila.

  He’d never imagined a world without either of them—even as he’d known his marriage was failing and that his relationship with Steph had become irreparable.

  For Steph to be gone was still impossible—she’d been so full of life, so full of dreams. She’d deserved a future no longer married to him. She’d deserved a future, full stop.

  But Mila was still here. She was real, alive, and still part of his world. He was not going to ruin that. He would not.

  A splash in the inky black river drew Seb’s attention. But the river was calm. Then again—a subtle splash, this time in Seb’s line of vision, a shift in the shadows beneath the moonlight.

  A dolphin. Two. Swimming together, their fins appearing and disappearing amongst the waves, a pair perfectly in sync.

  His phone vibrated in his back pocket, and by the time he’d retrieved it the dolphins were gone.

  A text message—from Mila.

  I need to see you.

  CHAPTER NINE

  BY THE TIME Seb had walked back to his apartment block Mila was already there. She was waiting in the foyer, pacing a short path in front of the mirrored lifts.

  She paused the instant Seb stepped through the automatic doors, making as if to hurry towards him—but then she stopped. Instead she waited for him to approach her.

  ‘Nice place,’ Mila said, meeting his gaze.

  He shrugged. ‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘I plan to build something like this—but better—some day soon.’

  She nodded sharply. ‘You will.’

  She’d wrapped her arms around herself even though it was perfectly temperature-controlled in here—not too hot, not too cold. She wore skinny blue jeans and spiky heels. Her jacket was of some type of faded grey linen, with sections of a silky pink camisole top visible where her arms weren’t gripping herself tightly. She looked fantastic.

  He wasn’t being objective.

  ‘Can I come up?’ she asked.

  There was no point acknowledging that it was a bad idea—to himself or to Mila. ‘Sure,’ he said.

  He reached past her to push the elevator’s ‘up’ button, then when the doors opened gestured for Mila to walk into the small space before him. Her heels clattered loudly on the marble floor as she fidgeted inside the elevator—walking over to the back to run a finger along the railing, then over to the side, and then simply standing almost exactly in the middle, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

  Seb scanned his access key and pressed the button for his floor. He didn’t move as the doors swished shut, not sure what to do. Keeping his distance from Mila seemed the best idea. He didn’t know why she was here.

  ‘Not the penthouse?’ Mila asked as they stepped onto his floor.

  ‘No,’ he said with a shrug. ‘New business. New priorities.’

  Not that he was exactly slumming it. He still had half of the entire floor to himself. Unlocking his front door revealed a tastefully decorated, luxury serviced apartment—and, more importantly, the view across the river he’d just walked beside to the twinkling lights of the South Perth foreshore.

  ‘Nice,’ Mila said simply, walking before him into the main living space.

  It was an open-plan conglomeration of gourmet kitchen, dining room and living room, looking out over a wide herringbone-paved balcony complete with a barbecue he never used and an outdoor setting he used nearly every day. He was definitely taking advantage of the Perth sun after years in far less sunny London.

  ‘Can we go outside?’ Mila said. ‘It’s a bit stuffy in here.’

  It wasn’t, but he followed her onto the balcony. Since she’d greeted him she hadn’t met his gaze at all. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her so highly strung. She was constantly moving—crossing and uncrossing her arms, lacing her fingers together, touching every different texture she found: the grain of the jarrah outdoor table, the shine of the stainless steel barbecue lid, the rough surface of the stone-hewn abstract sculpture in one corner.

  ‘This is really ugly,’ she said.

  It was, but that wasn’t the point. ‘What’s going on, Mila?’ Seb asked. ‘Why do you need to see me?’

  Finally she turned to look at him—to really look at him. He stood in front of the still open sliding door. Mila was metres away from him, near the balcony railing.

  ‘Aaron kissed me,’ she said.

  Seb simply had no words.

  Mila filled up the silence. ‘He’s a really nice guy, it turns out. And he’s tall. And hot. In a really, really young kind of way...’

  ‘Am I supposed to offer you congratulations?’

  ‘No,’ Mila said. ‘No. That’s the point. I wanted to kiss him. I think so, anyway. Or maybe I just wanted to want to kiss him. I don’t know.’ She pivoted on her heel to face out towards the river. ‘But kissing him wasn’t great. Wasn’t even good. It was awful, actually. And awfully quick. It was over in seconds—I just couldn’t do it. I knew it was wrong. Really wrong.’

  Seb walked up to stand beside her, also leaning against the rail.

  Mila ran her hands through her hair, her fingers leaving it all haphazard. ‘It was wrong, totally wrong, because...’

  And now her avalanche of words ended.

  She turned again, propping her hip against the rail so she faced Seb. He did the same, although their casual poses were failing in any attempt to relax the growing tension between them.

  Mila met his gaze and held it. He could practically see it—that one last boulder, teetering at the top, waiting for Mila to open her mouth again.

  ‘Why was it wrong, Mila?’

  She glared at him. ‘You know. You do—and don’t pretend you don’t.’

  But he really wanted to pretend. Everything would be simpler if he did.

  Yet they both just stood there.

  ‘It was wrong because of you,’ Mila said eventually, unnecessarily. ‘It was wrong because of this. Because of us.’

  She gestured between them, pointing to Seb and then to herself.

  ‘I hate this,’ Mila said, very softly.

/>   ‘Why did you come here?’ Seb asked.

  ‘Because I was angry. At myself. At you.’

  ‘Why are you angry?’

  ‘Because this shouldn’t be happening.’

  ‘I know,’ he said. But he needed to know her reasons. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because it isn’t how it’s supposed to be. I’m not supposed to feel this way about you. You’re Seb—you’re Steph’s husband. You’re my best friend’s husband.’

  ‘Not any more.’

  ‘I know,’ she said. She ran a hand through her hair, looking past him towards that ugly sculpture. ‘And that isn’t even really the reason. I just don’t want to feel this way. Because I know what will happen. I know—’ She stopped abruptly, then looked straight at him. ‘And I’m angry at you. For not walking away when I told you to. I needed you to walk away, Seb...’

  ‘I could never walk away from you, Mila.’

  She looked up at the sky, rolling her eyes.

  He didn’t understand—how could she not believe him? ‘Why did you need to see me, Mila?’ he asked again, this time with a hard edge. ‘What did you want to happen?’

  He couldn’t work it out—what she was thinking, what she wanted. But he did understand the tension between them.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said, but Seb didn’t really believe her.

  She shouldn’t have come. And he definitely shouldn’t be glad she was here. But she had, and he was.

  ‘What do you want to happen?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said, lying too.

  There wasn’t much space between them. A metre...maybe a little less.

  Mila still held his gaze. He wished hers was unreadable, but it wasn’t—not any more. He was sure his wasn’t either.

  All he had to do was reach for her...

  And that would be it.

  It would change everything. Their friendship—the friendship that was so important to him, that he needed so badly—would be altered for ever.

  And Mila... Was this really what she wanted?

  ‘I just want tonight,’ Mila whispered, reading his mind.