I wipe up a melted puddle of Rocky Road. “So while you’re taking all of my clothes, you could probably just buy the department store?” My eyes meet his. “That’s what you’re saying?” He nods slowly. “It’s inherited money. I have a trust fund. My parents are real estate developers.” “Millionaires?” I ask. “Billionaires.” I choke on more surprise. Fucking shit. A billionaire. It doesn’t change how I feel about him. It might change who’s picking up the bar tab.
