The Billionaire Princess

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The Billionaire Princess Page 27

by Christina Tetreault


  ***

  Ten more emails, the damn things never stopped coming. Even though only a select group of individuals had Christopher’s direct email address, there still remained a constant stream of messages. Stifling a yawn, he scanned the names listed next to each one. He doubted any were dire emergencies, but he couldn't put the messages off until morning even though at the moment his mind was ready to call it a day. While his watch said seven o'clock, his body kept telling him differently. It seemed to think he was still on the East Coast. Not that he blamed it. Over the past several weeks he'd done a lot of time zone hopping, and it'd finally caught up with him.

  The first eight emails required only short replies, nothing he found taxing. The ninth caught his attention. Opening the message from Senator Healy, he smiled after reading the contents. Both the Washington Post Tracking Poll and the Gallup Poll showed that support for Healy's education initiative was high and, while it was not a guarantee that the Senate would approve, it made it seem likely. Just what he wanted to hear.

  After answering the last email, he logged off his computer and left his office and work behind for the night.

  Less than half an hour later Christopher turned on the large flat-screen television in his media room and plopped down with some heated-up leftovers. One benefit of having his sister stay with him while her townhouse was remodeled—she cooked all his favorite meals. His cook came in a few days a week to prepare meals for him also did a fabulous job. His refrigerator was always full of delicious premade meals he could heat up. The only problem with the arrangement, the cook didn't believe in everyday meals. She made a fuss whenever he asked her to make some of his favorites like shepherd's pie or plain old macaroni and cheese, and when she did make them they never tasted quite right. Somehow she always managed to put some strange twist on them in an attempt to make them gourmet. His sister Caroline, didn't share that problem and she cooked almost as well as their mother. When they completed the work on her townhouse, he'd miss her cooking.

  Okay, maybe not just her cooking. Having someone else around was nice. Growing up, his house had always been full of activity and noise. Even in college and grad school he had a roommate. Since buying his first home, he'd become accustomed to living alone. That wasn't to say he didn't sometimes miss the craziness of a full house, but rather that he'd learned to deal with the loneliness.

  However, as much as he loved his sister, he'd much rather have another woman living with him. Unfortunately, even if she was open to the idea, logistically it wouldn't work. Sara's career required her presence in DC at least as long as David Healy remained in office. He figured there was a better chance of landing on the moon than of her leaving DC to live with him. With his company's HQ here in California, he couldn't make a permanent move to the east coast either.

  Christopher twirled a large amount of his sister’s homemade spaghetti and sauce around his fork. It tasted as good as their mom's sauce, which she'd learned to make from his grandmother. After marrying Angelina Hall's only son, she taught her daughter-in-law everything she knew about cooking. Although very different from his grandmother, Christopher could see his mom doing the same thing when he married.

  As he ate he pictured Sara in a cooking lesson with his mom. What a sight that would be. So far the only culinary skills he'd seen Sara exhibit involved boiling water and pressing the button on the microwave. Not that he was much better, although he could at least add grilling to his list.

  How would Sara react to his parents? One of these days they'd have to meet. So far she had only met Caroline.

  His mind wandered back to the imaginary cooking lesson between Sara and his mom. A smile spread across his face at the mental image of Sara standing in his family kitchen making baklava, something his mom made every year for the holidays. She'd tried to teach him once and had given up halfway through the lesson.

  Quickly the image shifted. Instead of Sara in his mom's kitchen, he envisioned him and her cooking together in his kitchen. Now that was a picture he liked.

  His ringing cell caused the picture to evaporate.

  Pulling the phone from his pocket, Christopher glanced at the screen. “I was just thinking about you,” he said, answering the phone. “I thought you'd call last night.” He'd picked up his phone three different times the night before prepared to call her. She'd never said she would call, but he'd expected to hear from her after her meeting with Callie. And he honestly wanted to know how it went.

  “I intended too, but I got home later than expected.” She sounded as tired as he felt. She'd been hopping back and forth between time zones almost as much as him.

  Christopher leaned back, prepared for a long conversation. Before Sara entered his life, he never did long phone calls. Short and to the point worked fine for him. Long in-depth talks were better conducted face to face. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option tonight.

  “How did it go?”

  “Okay, I think.” Sara's positive reply didn’t match her hesitant tone.

  “But?”

  “Nothing. I explained everything and we agreed to put the past behind us. We'll see what happens.”

  Sara tried to dismiss the importance of the situation, but he knew the truth. She'd taken a big emotional risk approaching Callie. A risk he hoped would pay off. “That means you have nothing else to say on the matter, right?”

  Her sweet laugh carried over the phone and he smiled himself.

  “You're so smart. Let’s talk about next weekend instead. I think it’s my turn to come out there.”

  With the week stretched out before him, the weekend seemed like a lifetime away. He had so many obligations already scheduled for the week, half of them in Texas. “I'll come there again. I'll be in Texas until Thursday afternoon anyway.”

 

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