Page 23 of Grumpy Billionaire Seeking Wife

Rudolpho looks me up and down as I sit down, and I can see him leering. “I do like that top on you, though. Pretty sexy. Are those hearts for?—”

“The hearts are for nothing.”

I look around for a server. “Let’s order some drinks,” I say quickly and then turn to him. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Twelve inches.”

“What?” I frown, and he bursts out laughing.

“Psych. You’ll find out the number later.”

“That wasn’t my question.” I’m pissed. “I just want to know why your personality seems so different in person than it did when we chatted online. You’re just not the same.”

“Oh, it was me. I just had some help.”

“Help?”

“AI, baby.” He winks slowly, and I want to throw up. How did I ever think this man was cute? “Artificial intelligence is changing the world for the better.”

“More like ruining it,” I groan under my breath. “Absolutely ruining it.”

I’m never going to ignore my intuition again. I knew from the first moment I chatted with him that something seemed off. I wish now that I would have deleted the message and never responded back. As I stare into his pugnacious and despicable face, I realize I'd rather be anywhere but here.

Chapter Eight

Wes

“Just so you know, this place is meant to be really trendy,” Miles says as we walk up to the front of the eating establishment. There are two large statues of red sausage dogs outside the main entrance, and I wonder if he accidentally said trendy instead of trashy. I give him a suspicious look, and he bursts out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” I ask him, frowning slightly. I’m already slightly annoyed by the thought of what Sabrina is getting up to with her date. I wonder if he is some Wall Street sort that is, at this very moment, sweet-talking her and attempting to get into her pants. Hopefully, she is not to be swayed by the superficial words that many players use to garner the attention of innocent and sweet women like Sabrina.

“Just the look on your face when I said this place was trendy. Like you didn’t want to be here.”

“Why would I not want to be at a trendy place?”

“Because you never go to trendy places.”

I think about his comment for a moment and shake my head. It’s not that he’s lying. It’s just that it makes me sound so uncool. “Just because I’m normally busy working and makingmoney, doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate the finer things in life.”

“I didn’t say it was a finer part of life, nor did I say you didn’t appreciate them. I just said that it was a trendy establishment.”

“So, what does that mean, Miles? You’re losing me here.”

“I’m saying it’s not the typical fine-dining establishment you would normally think of a first date being held at.” He throws his hands up. “No need to be so defensive. It’s not like I’m calling you an unhip grandpa.”

“I would never be an unhip grandpa,” I mutter as he opens the door, and I step inside, eager to see Sabrina. Well, to see how her date is going. I head over to the hostess with a confident stride, and a cute brunette gives me a wide, flirty smile.

“Hi, my brother and I were hoping to get a table. That’s not going to be a problem, is it?” I reach my hand into my back pocket to grab my wallet, but before I can even whip it out, she’s scribbling something into the book in front of her.

“Oh, no. Of course not.” She beams at me, a seductive pout on her bright pink lips. “We have plenty of tables available, sir. Which would you prefer?” She nods around the room. “We have several of our one-on-one small tables available around the periphery of the restaurant.” She points. “These are a bit more expensive, as they are private.”

I look inside the interior of the room, not because I care about the tables really, but because I’m hoping to see Sabrina and her date. I frown as I look into the packed room. It looks like a meat market, full of college students and hipsters. Not my usual crowd. Now I understand what Miles was attempting to tell me before I nearly bit his head off.

“And then we have our communal tables,” she says, “where large groups of people can sit and enjoy dinner. You don’t have to make friends with the other people at the dinner, but you’remore than welcome to. Sometimes strangers even do family style.”

“Family style?” I ask her, raising an eyebrow.

“You know, where people order a lot of different dishes to taste.”

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