Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 219 It was eight fifteen when I finally spotted Charles walking toward the entrance of Avalynn's. I'd been standing there twenty minutes, trying not to look like an idiot waiting alone outside one of London's most exclusive clubs while stylish couples swept past me. I checked my phone for the twentieth time. "Annabelle?" he asked, a little unsure, as he got close. "Charles." I forced a cheerful smile, even though I was already a little annoyed at the delay. "Sorry I'm late," he said, running a hand through his hair in this nervous, rehearsed way.

"Traffic was impossible." I noticed immediately that he was... shorter than I expected. His profile said six foot one, but he was clearly closer to five seven. Even with the obvious lift shoes. Not that height was everything, but lying right out of the gate was not a great sign. "It's fine," I said, deciding to let it go. "Shall we go in?" "Wow, ," he murmured once we stepped inside Avalynn's. "This place is... wow." To be fair, the place was stunning. Warm golden lighting, elegant decor, impossibly beautiful people everywhere. Alexandra had gone all out. Or rather, her family money had.

"Let's find our table," I said, guiding him through the crowd. I spotted Gwen at a large table with James, Margaret, and a few more coworkers. She waved excitedly when she saw us. "Annie." Gwen stood to greet me. "You look gorgeous. And this must be the famous Charles." "Hi, everyone," I said as I introduced him. "Charles, these are my coworkers." He greeted everyone politely, though he looked a little overwhelmed by the atmosphere. We sat, and he reached for the cocktail menu immediately. "So, Charles," James said, always the first to start small talk. "Annie said you teach medieval history.

you focus on?" "Oh, mostly... uh... the Middle Ages in general," Charles answered, vague as fog. "The middle centuries." The middle centuries? My brows pinched for a second. In the app he'd talked very specifically about the Byzantine period and the Crusades. "Interesting," Margaret said. "My son is learning about the Hundred Years' War in school. You must know a lot about that." "Of course, of course," Charles said quickly. "The Hundred Years' War. It lasted... well,

he asked, eager to change the subject. The conversation dragged on for a few more minutes, and with every question, Charles looked more uncomfortable. His

cross their fingers and hope their real life charm makes up for everything they lied about. It was like buying a luxury bag and discovering it was a cheap knockoff from a street stall. And there I was, sitting in front of my coworkers with a date who probably didn't even know when the Middle Ages happened. Rage crept

process the fact that my date had apparently lied about almost everything on his profile. "Double gin and tonic, please," I told the bartender. "Trouble in paradise?" a familiar

doesn't seem like the kind of guy you usually go for." "And how would you know what my type is?" I asked, grabbing my drink and turning to face him fully. "Intuition." He shrugged. "You seem... more selective than that." "Selective?" I repeated, my voice rising just a bit. "You don't know anything about what I like or dislike." "Maybe not," Nate said easily, still smiling. "But James