Billionaires in New York Boxed Set: Billionaires in the City Books 1-3 by Laura Burton (learn to read books .TXT) 📕

with a beaming smile. A minty aroma washed over her as he walked by, and without another thought, she walked––as if on auto pilot––onto the stage to the sound of applause.

Catherine always loved to sing. Her parents would boast that she could hold a tune before she even learned to speak. Whether that was true or not, Catherine had been singing at every opportunity she had growing up. Her older brother Johnny loved it.

“Sing it to me Cathy,” he would say. He always asked her to sing her thoughts rather than say them. Music calmed him and Catherine often obliged. She loved the vibrations in her midriff as she belted out a power ballad, and the way Johnny’s glassy eyes lit up whenever she poured her heart out. Standing on a stage, with the heat of the spotlights on her face and the rush of applause was thrilling enough, but Catherine’s favorite audience was her own family.

She proceeded to do what she had done at every performance she ever did.

She imagined her parents sitting at the table right at the front, beaming up at her with pride. And Johnny standing beside her, clapping and swaying to the music.

She allowed every atom of her being to swallow the music and flowed with it as she sang to the crowd.

For the duration of the performance, all worries were cast aside. She no longer cared about what Edward might say to her if she bumped into him at the event. No longer mortified at the way she fled the café after seeing Calvin in the street. All of her insecurities about not recycling enough were gone. She was Catherine Fisher, world renowned opera star. A musical sensation.

When the song finished and the audience erupted into applause, Catherine gracefully bowed and waved as she walked off the stage. Bright orbs of light obscured her vision as she returned backstage.

Someone patted her shoulder and congratulated her on a great performance. But the force of their hand knocked her off balance and she crashed into a clothes rail. She cried out with shock and her ankle gave way as she toppled off her feet into a strong pair of arms.

The strong sandalwood scent was familiar. She inhaled deeply and blinked up, her vision returning to normal.

His beautiful dimples were showing on both cheeks and a white halo shone around his gorgeous head as she looked up to him.

Edward.

Catherine didn’t know whether to bolt for the door or throw her arms around his neck and launch kisses all over his adorable face.

“Hey, are you alright?”

Catherine nodded with a drunken smile and stood up, pressing her hands against his chest. The bulging pecs beneath his shirt were firm and she blushed as she lowered her gaze to the black floor.

“It’s you,” she said to his shiny black shoes, unable to lift her eyes to meet his. Those piercing baby blues would surely see through her vain attempt to act cool. He could probably see her heart fluttering faster than the wings of a butterfly.

“Yes, it’s me.” Edward’s amused voice had Catherine rolling her lips inward. She pressed her teeth down to clamp her mouth shut. “And it’s you,” he continued.

A broad hand appeared into view and he lifted her chin up. She looked hesitantly into his eyes, and sure enough, those eyes were piercing her very soul. Her cheeks were burning now as she remembered the way she had left their date.

“I’m so sorry,” she fervently. “I can’t believe I ran away like that.”

“Water under the bridge.” Edward stuck out his elbow and looked at her expectantly. “Would you take a walk with me?” he asked softly. The question sounded so simple, so innocent, that Catherine could not help but slide her hand along his bicep and rest in the crook of his arm.

“I have to go onstage and sing again in about twenty minutes.”

“That means I have twenty minutes to convince you to go out with me tomorrow.”

“What?” Catherine looked at him with surprise and Edward’s face reddened.

“Did I say that out loud?” he asked.

They walked to a quiet place backstage, away from the lighting technicians and stylists. Catherine settled on a black music box as Edward leaned against a wall, his arms folded, and his face settled into a casual smirk.

“Why are you so interested in seeing me? Aren’t you worried I might run away again?”

Edward stared at her intently, perhaps considering how to formulate an answer. Catherine smoothed out the skirt of her ballgown and fidgeted as she waited.

“You know, I’ve dated a lot of women,” he began. Catherine cocked a brow and made to speak but Edward was not finished. “You’re the first one to be so…”

“What?” she asked, rising to her feet. “Difficult? Strong-willed? Independent?”

“Unpredictable.”

Catherine was unsure whether to be flattered or insulted for all the women who had dated this man in the past.

“You like the fact I don’t play along with your games, you mean,” she said, folding her arms. Edward rubbed the back of his neck.

Has that rattled you? Good.

“I don’t play games,” he said in a small voice. Catherine threw her head back with a laugh.

“What happened to ‘I like a challenge’?”

Edward lunged forward and took Catherine’s hand, the movement was so sudden it made her gasp. She stood rooted on the spot, her hand cradled in his, and glanced around to see if anyone was watching them. Frederick was talking to a couple of young women in the distance, but they seemed to be unaware of her and Edward.

“Is it really so hard to believe that I like you?” Edward asked. Catherine turned to see his eyes blazing into hers.

The warmth of his hands and the heat of his gaze sent her senses into a spin. Her pulse quickened and she took shallow breaths.

Is this what a panic attack feels like?

Catherine retrieved her hand and strode to the side door, pressing all of her weight on it to open.

“Hey, wait––”

Catherine did not look back as she stepped out