My beautiful billionaire player

CHAPTER 11

Flowers and breakfast were nothing in comparison to what I would give her if she decided to be with me. I would give her everything I had. Please accept our thanks. I'm happy to hear that you enjoyed the champagne. Where does one stand on Canada? Are you having fun with it?

"I really enjoy it, but I just can't get used to the concept of celebrating Christmas in the middle of July."

I had forgotten that December is considered to be winter in the United States. "I've never considered that there might be another option."

Will you be celebrating Christmas with your family somewhere other than Toronto this year?

Even if she isn't trying to identify me in any way, her queries nonetheless make me feel awkward. “Yes. On Christmas Eve, everyone congregates at my parents' house, and the next day, we all spend Christmas together. Because the oldest of my brother's children is now three years old, it makes for an interesting night with the kids as they wait for Santa to come."

"Oh, that definitely sounds like a good time."

It's obvious that she was raised by herself. "After approximately two minutes, everybody will have had enough of each other, and then it will be fun again."

She comes to a complete halt in the middle of her path and presses her palms up against the storefront window. "Would you look at that. I have a feeling that it's a Martin D-45."

I take a closer look at the guitar that is shown in the window on the stand, but I don't notice anything particularly noteworthy about it. To me, it appears to be no different from any other. "I suppose that you like it?"

When I see her smiling, I have the impression that my question is making her laugh. "Yes, that is quite excellent. I've dreamed of owning one forever."

"What's stopping you from getting one?"

She makes me think of a young child longing for a gift on Christmas morning as she stands there staring into the window. "Because a D-45 will run you around twelve grand," you may say.

If you intend to make a living as a musician, don't you think you need one of these?

"Yes, I do require one, but that does not imply that I have the financial means to purchase it. I am making do with my mother's guitar till I can save up enough money to buy one of my own. It's been around longer than I have, yet it still sounds great." Her palms are still pressed on the storefront glass as she stands there. "She has never confirmed this to me, but I believe that her biological father gave it to her. When I see her playing it, she has an expression on her face that makes it appear as though she has been crying.

When she said she had troubles with her father, she wasn't joking.

She heaves a sigh as she moves away from the storefront and mutters, "One day I'll have a Martin."

We go on our stroll until we reach the next block, at which point I look up and see a sign pointing to Stout Avenue. It shouldn't be too far from here to find the Blues Club. "You want to stop by and check out everything that's going on?"

“Sure. What do you believe the answer is going to be?"

"There is one way to find out." I take out my phone and access the appropriate app to locate it a few blocks to the north. "You'll travel six blocks in that direction."

She removes her foot from one of her shoes in order to examine it more closely. "I'm not sure if I'll be able to make it through the next six blocks. It seems like my heels are about to start rubbing."

"You promised to let me know if they were painful, didn't you? I don't want you to be in any kind of discomfort. I'll call Michael."

She raises the second foot and examines it as she does so. "Would you consider me to be a weak person if I let you?"

"I do not for one second believe that there is anything about you that is weak," On the sidewalk, there is a seat that I can use. We are going to wait for him in this location.

While we wait for Michael to arrive, my lady and I take a seat on the bench, and I put my hands on her feet. "Let me see what we've got going on here."

When I try to draw her feet into my lap, she pushes back against me. "What exactly are you up to?"

"What does it look like? While we wait for Michael, I'm going to rub your feet."

"That is not something you have to do."

"I am aware that it is not required of me. I would like to."

She ultimately gives in and bends herself around on the bench so that her feet may rest in my lap. I remove her shoes and start rubbing her feet, starting with the left one. "If you let me into your heart, I promise to treat you like a princess each and every day."

She laughs, obviously not understanding how seriously I am taking this. That unquestionably enhances the value of the offer and makes it more alluring.

I work my palm up her leg from her foot all the way to her calf. "I don't want my offer to seem alluring." I would like it to be impossible to refuse, so please tell me what it would take for you to accept my offer.

She looks at me and grins at the same time. "I require some time, and I require a deeper understanding of you."

The one thing that I don't want to do is give her the time that she needs to get to know me because I'm impatient, and she's constantly guarded, and she knows that I am. Why doesn't she see that once she gives her consent, we can proceed with it?

He pulls up just as I'm trying to get Lois more comfortable with the notion of the two of us being together, which is a perfect illustration of how Michael's timing is always completely off. I readjust her footwear and place it back on her feet. As soon as she gets to her feet, I grab her and carry her to the car, where Michael is already sitting with the door open.

While her arms are over my neck, she casts a sour glance in my direction. "In my opinion, this is beyond the call of duty."

"That's how I am most of the time, and it would do you well to keep that in mind. When I told you that I didn't want you to be in pain and that I would treat you like a princess, I meant it."

She guffaws once more like the girl of seventeen years old that she had been pretending to be earlier. "I believe that I would have been able to handle the few steps that would have been required of me in order to go to the car."

We move back and forth across the backseat. "This is my way of trying to get you to agree with me, Lois."

"I appreciate that, but it's really not essential at all. I also hope that you are not under the impression that you will be carrying me from the car into the club because that will not be happening."

"We'll see."

Michael pulls down to the side of the road just in front of The Blues Club. "I won't leave unless I can get there on my own two feet. There will be no creeping up on me to grab me again. Have you got it, Victor?"

Before I get out of the car, I do a quick spin around the area. It is the second time that she has referred to me as Victor. "Yes, ma'am."

I exit the car and extend my hand to her. "Thank you."

Because she is currently standing in front of me, I feel compelled to inquire, "Why do you call me Victor?"

"I can't say for sure. Because it is something that your mother has always said, I also say it. Something similar to when I asked you if you wanted to dance when we were both attempting to avoid colliding with each other."

“Oh.”

After entering the club, we choose a table near the stage and take our seats there. Tonight there is a performance by a complete band, and one of the songs they are playing is "Every Breath You Take" by The Police.

A waitress walks over to our seat as soon as Lois starts tapping the surface of the table with her fingertips in time for the music. Because we are positioned so closely to the speakers, she raises her voice above the sound of the music and asks, "What can I get for you?"

When Lois is placing her order, she flashes a grin and a wink at me. "Give me a scream-induced o****m, if you please." Hell, yeah. If I have anything to say about it, she will have an abundance of those throughout the course of the next few months.