Bright Lights and Summer Nights: A Fake Dating Billionaire Sports Romance (Black Tie Billionaires)

“I really wish your grandfather was here for this,” Gram notes from my side, looking at the people gathered around the small, intimate table with a longing look in her eyes. She looks to Peyton, her eyes slightly misting over as she smiles.

Peyton blows her a kiss, placing a hand over her heart. “I really wish he was here, too. He would’ve been the life of the party.”

Dinner has been nice—and not at all as intimidating as I thought it’d be. When Gram said it was intimate, I didn’t imagine it only being immediate family. We’re sitting under the stars, twinkling lights strung around us at a circular table that’s low to the ground. Pillows of different shades of white and blue circle the table, making the dinner seem far more casual than the party earlier.

Gram stays quiet for a moment, her mind clearly elsewhere.

Preston is the one to break the silence from my other side. He reaches across my front, his forearm brushing against my breasts, as he takes his grandmother’s hand. “You should tell Emma about the night you and Grandpa met.”

Peyton excitedly claps her hands, pushing off where she rests against Jackson’s chest for a moment. “Yes, please do, Gram. You know it’s one of my favorites.” Peyton’s eyes meet mine, a soft smile on her lips. “Something tells me you’re a romantic, Emma. You’ll just love this story.”

“Just a little bit of one,” I answer, holding up my thumb and index finger and creating the smallest amount of space between them. I’d like to think of myself as a romantic, but I think a large part of that is because I’ve never really had a steady boyfriend. I’ve never had someone do big gestures for me—or even little ones—and I’ll continue to wait, and hope, for the person who does.

“You have to tell it, Gram,” Peyton prods.

“It really is a special story,” Preston’s mom chimes in.

Gram pulls her shawl closer to her shoulders. Her eyes roam over her family members seated around the table. “Are you sure all of you want to hear it again?”

Everyone nods as I lean in close to her and nudge her with my shoulder. “I’d love to hear it if you’re willing to share.”

Gram sighs, looking to the sky for a moment before looking back at me.

“I was eighteen and was visiting the Hamptons with my family for the summer. I’d never had a boyfriend—and I didn’t want one either, despite my parents’ wishes to marry me off.”All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

Everyone is quiet as she looks off into the distance, as if she’s picturing that day in her head. “There was a bonfire on the beach one night. Everyone who was in for the summer attended. It was a big deal, and my sister had to drag me to it.”

“You didn’t want to go?” I ask. I only met her yesterday, but Gram seems to love a party. I’m a little surprised she wouldn’t want to go to one.

Gram swats at the air. “Of course, I didn’t want to go, darling. I wanted to stay home and read a book.”

“But you went, and tell her what happened next,” Peyton demands, leaning forward even more.

Gram raises an eyebrow at her granddaughter. “Am I telling this story, or are you?”

My teeth rake against my bottom lip as I try to hide my smile. I like her sass.

“Sorry, Gram,” Peyton apologizes, leaning back and letting Jackson wrap his arms around her once again. “I just love love, and I absolutely adore this story.”

“Then let me tell it, child,” Gram remarks, winking at Peyton to soften her words.

I sigh, loving the banter between this family. I never knew what it was like to have big family dinners or events. We didn’t have family Christmas, weddings, funerals, or any of it. Holidays were spent with just Aunt V and me. On some occasions, she had to work, so I’d spend Christmas watching Hallmark movies or trying—and failing—to make Christmas cookies.

“I went to the party so my sister would stop pestering me about it. I was sitting right next to the pier, completely minding my own business…still reading my book, of course.”

I laugh. “You’re an icon for going to the party and still bringing the book.”

“It was a mystery novel, and I had to know if my theories were correct. You can imagine how annoyed I was when Joseph walked right up to me and asked if I wanted to dance.”

“What did you say?” I ask, fully invested in the story.

“This is the best part,” Preston responds, leaning close to speak right into my ear. I don’t know why he feels the need to do it. His comment can be heard by everyone; it’s not like it’s a secret.

“I ignored him, of course,” Gram responds with a careless shrug. “My book was more important, and I didn’t even think he was talking to me. But then he had the audacity to snatch it from my lap when I didn’t answer him.”

I gasp. “No, he didn’t.”

She nods. “Oh, he sure did. I ripped my novel from his hands and smacked him right atop the head with it.”

“And he didn’t run?” I ask, trying to imagine a young Gram completely taking out a potential suitor with a book.

She lets out an annoyed sigh. “No. He was persistent. I’ll give him that.”

“Grandpa used to swear the moment she hit him with that book, he fell in love with her,” Preston remarks.

I turn to look at him for a moment, loving the way he speaks about his grandparents. I’ve learned more and more about him throughout the day, and I’m scared to admit that there’s nothing I’ve discovered that I don’t like.

He tips his chin up, gesturing for me to keep listening to Gram. I follow his direction, looking at her once again and waiting for her to keep telling the story.

She stays quiet for a moment, a serene smile on her face before she speaks up again. “Preston is right. He used to say that—although I don’t know how much I believed him. Either way, I hit him upside the head with that book, and it didn’t deter him for a second. He asked me to dance again, and I told him there was no music.”

“Very bold of him to ask you to dance if there wasn’t any music,” I note, taking a drink of some fruity cocktail that’s one of the best drinks I’ve ever had. I’m on my second one, and I’m trying not to drink them too quickly so I don’t end up tipsy like last night—and have to deal with a hangover tomorrow. But it’s hard to not want to drink it all at once with how great it tastes.

“If Joseph was anything, it was bold. He didn’t care that there wasn’t any music. He said we’d make our own, and then he held his hand out to me.”

I’m quiet and shift my position, eager to hear what happens next. Luckily, she doesn’t make me wait long.

“I don’t know what compelled me to take it, but I did. He pulled me up onto that pier, and we danced.”

“Without any music?” I ask, trying to imagine a young Gram being swept off her feet by a handsome stranger. It’s incredibly romantic.

“Without any music,” she responds. “And I didn’t admit it to myself for a very long time, but I fell in love with him on that pier. The way he hummed my favorite song as we danced, even though he had no way of knowing it was my favorite. The way he asked about my book, sat on the pier with me, our feet hanging over the edge, and listened for twenty minutes as I told him the entire plot of the novel. It was…” She pauses, looking up at the stars and closing her eyes for a moment. You can feel the love she had for her husband radiating off her—the love she still holds for him, even though he’s left this world.

“Romantic?” I finish for her, my voice full of awe. I’ve slowly watched my friends fall in love, and it’s something I crave—something I want to experience. Looking at Gram, I wonder what it’s like to have such fond memories of someone decades later and still hold so much love for him.

Gram opens her misty eyes and looks right at me. “Yes,” she manages to get out. She reaches over and grabs my hand. Her cold fingers wrap around mine, holding tightly as she gives them a firm squeeze. “It was romantic. He was a romantic. And it was the easiest decision I ever made to say yes to his proposal a month later.”

My eyes widen. “A month?” I look around the table to see if anyone is as shocked as me about how quick their romance was, but their faces tell me all I need to know. They’ve heard this story before and aren’t shocked at all about how quickly their love story unfolded.

Gram smiles, squeezing my hand again. “If we’re being honest, it was more like three weeks, but I always thought saying a month sounded better. When you know, you know. There isn’t a one-size-fits-all time limit for love.” She looks at Preston over my shoulder for a moment. “Right, Preston?” she prods, raising a thin eyebrow.

Preston coughs. I choke on my own spit. The two of us create a symphony of different noises at Gram’s words.

“Lord have mercy,” Gram barks, rubbing my back.

Preston and I pull it together under the scrutinizing stares of his family.

“Sorry to ruin the story,” I comment, taking a drink of my water. My throat burns from coughing, but the ice water helps to soothe it.

Gram swats at the air. “It’s fine. I’ve told it a million times.”

“Thank you for telling it to me. It’s beautiful. The two of you seemed really lucky to meet and share a life together.”

This gets Gram to smile so big her entire face lights up. “We were the luckiest. I’d give anything to dance on the pier with him again.”

No one speaks, letting her words hang in the air around us. My eyes roam the table, looking at the elegant flower arrangements expertly placed along the table. Lit candlesticks also line the table, the gold sticking out against the white tablecloth.

An idea pops into my head. In one quick motion, I’m pushing off the pillow on the ground and leaning over the table. One by one, I begin to blow out the candles.

“What are you doing?” Preston’s mom asks. All I do is briefly look up and give her an apologetic smile. I don’t care what she thinks of my idea; all I care about at the moment is Gram.

Once I’ve made my way around the table and blown out every single candle, I spin to look at Gram with a hesitant smile. We don’t have a pier, but we have a table, which will have to do. I hold my hand out, waiting for her to take it. I do a deep bow, trying to make the moment as dramatic as possible. “Dance with me?”