The Billionaire Throuple

Andreas Santiago

I prop my menu up on the table to hide my face, but he's already seen me. What were the odds that Nemo would show up while I'm waiting to meet someone at Luciano's? Okay, pretty good since he's here and I guess I should've known.

Samuel always treats us on special occasions. If he buys Luciano's for trigonometry, then he was definitely hooking us up on his birthday. I knew what I was getting myself into, but it was worth the risk. Well, it would've been.

My 'date' is already thirty minutes late, so I'm pretty sure the asshole stood me up. It wasn't a romantic date or I'd be in tears right now. It was an influencer date, a chance to collab with a well-known food critic to increase my Instagram following.

I wouldn't have ditched Samuel the Third's birthday for a date, but I'm not rich enough to brush aside influencer money. I would've skipped my older sister giving birth to my nephew and both would've understood. Okay, I wouldn't have wanted to be around for that anyway, but you get the picture.

I'm still planning to show up at some point, after this is in the bag. I do have a heart. I shouldn't have told him it was a family emergency though. He seems like the type to get super worked up over that and now I feel like the worst person in the world. I should've told him the truth, but that's easy to say when I'm caught red-handed.

Two dark hands pull my menu down as Nemo takes the seat across from me. "I know you ain't trying to make me go to Sammy's all by myself!" He's all smiles, but I can tell he's not joking.

"Put your hood down, rude ass! Unless you're trying to rob the place."

He looks around for a minute, but he listens. I know he likes me because, who doesn't? But I'm slightly surprised since he's been in a mood. Not that I'd blame him, given everything that went down with football, but I guess he still has a soft spot for me.

"You're not going to snitch me out to Sammy, are you?" I clasp my hands together pleadingly, but nearly puke in my mouth from calling him Sammy.

He is most definitely Samuel the Third to me. I believe a name has meaning. It should describe a person in the same way a brand describes a product. My Instagram is @SantiAndi because I'm fun and kind and sweet like Santa Claus. Sammy describes someone fun, as do all nicknames ending in y.

Samuel the Third is not fun. He is a boy born into wealth, all business, all the time. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with that, but I'm going to call it how I see it.

"I ain't gonna lie to dude on his birthday if he asks, but you don't gotta worry about that if you come with me," Nemo says.

I grimace as I set my head down on the table and wait for him to change his mind or tell me I don't have to go. He doesn't, so I grab my coat off the chair. It's off-brand, but it was free, so I gave it a shot. I had to pose in it at least once to encourage my followers to keep sending me things. Honestly, it's the lightest, warmest coat I've ever worn and it's in gun metal gray which is pretty sexy right now.

I start gathering my things, but as I reach for my phone, it buzzes and shimmies toward the utensils on the table. I let my coat fall to the floor. I can't waste a single second in case wanna-be Gordon Ramsay hit me back.

I look at my phone and smile, clutching it against my chest. Nemo looks at me like I'm a new born puppy, which I kind of am, so I show him the screen.

"Can we wait fifteen minutes please? After that, I promise I'll leave with you."

I extend my lower lip and bounce around with a wide smile. I know exactly what I'm doing. He sighs and looks up at the ceiling, but I tug on his arm until he looks down at me, then I bombard him with slow blinks and wide-eyes.