Page 48 of The Billionaire's One-Night Stand Nanny
And I was arriving late. I’d stopped at home. Flora had been surprised to see me, already settled into the backseat of Daniel’s car when he came to pick her up. I’d slid her over toward me on the smooth leather and she’d done the rest, climbing into my lap facing me, her pretty legs spread over mine.
“This is a surprise,” she’d said, a smile on her lips as I worked my hands into the pockets of her denim shorts. “Don’t you have boys’ night?”
“Yes,” I’d said, pulling her closer. “But I thought I’d have you, first.”
“You did, did you?” she asked, and I nodded slowly.
“It’s rush hour, and Brooklyn is a long way,” I said. “I think I have time to get you off atleastonce.”
“Isthatwhat you think?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder toward the front seats. The divider was up–Daniel couldn’t see us. And, well, it was nothing he hadn’t heard before.
She’d sunk down to the floor of the cramped backseat, on her knees between my own, and it had beenmecoming hard and fast somewhere between the Brooklyn Bridge and her apartment. “See you tomorrow,” she’d whispered as she slipped out and up the stairs into her building, and I’d wanted her all over again. I couldn’t wait.
I raised a hand in acknowledgement, nodding my head. “Sure,” I said, chuckling, as Barrett held up his cocktail in a toast. I certainlyfeltlike the man of the hour. My head was still buzzing with dopamine and adrenaline even after the long trip back across the bridge to Manhattan. “I don’t know why, but I’ll cheers to that, if someone gets me a drink.”
“Oh, we’ll get you a drink, that’s damn sure,” Charlie said, clapping me on the back. “And probably a few more.” He dropped his voice lower, tilting his head in toward mine. “I heard about Tally.”
“What about–” I started with a frown, then remembered, a beat too late–the orgasm had apparently affected my recall.Her engagement. I’d seen the cream-colored envelope on the table in the entryway, her address on the back flap, and known what it was instantly. An invitation. An announcement. It had probably gone out in theTimes, too. That was what our friends did: announcements in theTimes. A pretentiously unpretentious photoshoot and interview in theNew York Weekabout their careers, their story, with captions likeforecaster Sarah Talford charms in a cerulean Mina Miyaki shift at her home in Soho.They’d ask her about wedding trends. She was a good interviewee. “Ah, that.”
“Ah, that,” Charlie echoed. “Your ex-wife gets engaged and all you say isah, that?”
I shrugged. “We talked about it. She told me it was serious a while ago, wanted him to meet Maddie. I’m happy for her.”
Charlie, James and Barrett sat, each in their usual leather club chair, looking at me.
“Well,” Barrett said at last, “that’s hardly worth buying you a drink.”
“So don’t.” I grinned. “I’m a big boy. I can buy my own.” I held up a hand, flagging down the waiter.
“Fuck,” Charlie said as the waiter strode off toward the bar to place my order: whiskey, ice. I liked that Flora drank whiskey sometimes. It was cute on her. “Well. I guess thisiswhat I should have expected from you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.
Charlie tipped his drink at me. “Ah, you know, just a pleasant, rational response from a logical, even-keeled man.”
I nodded. “Aphone-sex-not-haver,” I said, smiling.
“What?” Charlie asked, scrunching up his face. “First, I don’t want to know about what goes on between you and your phone in your private time.” My grin grew wider and I nodded in thanks as the waiter set down my drink. “Second,” Charlie said, then quieter, “Hey, Ryan. You know we’re here for you. If you ever want to talk,” he shrugged, “you can talk to me. Barrett’s a dick, and James is too smitten to be any use at the moment, but if you want to commiserate, or whatever…” He shrugged again.
“You’re a really good friend, Charlie,” I said, leaning closer. “I appreciate it. Thanks.” I held out my drink and clinked my glass against his as he looked on warily.
“There he goes again,” Barrett smirked. “Another pleasant, rational response.”
“What can I say?” I said. “I’m just a logical, even-keeled man.”
And the fact that I’d just gotten off in the backseat of my Town Car? That had nothing to do with it, I was sure.
Maybe Flora and my friends were right, and Iwasboring. But if boring meant having a beautiful woman in my bed the past few weekends, a daughter who loved me, an ex-wife I got along with just fine, and a solid, predictable job–okay, that last onewaspretty boring, I could admit that–then I was okay being considered boring. I smiled to myself. Nothing could ruin my mood.
“Youarebringing a date, though, right?” James asked.
I looked up at him, alarmed. “What?” I never brought a date anywhere. Why would he think I would be bringing a date to this? Did he somehow suspect… No. There was no way.
“Oh, shit,yeah,” Charlie added, staring wide-eyed at his brother. “You definitely need a date for this.”
“I’ll just br–”
Barrett didn’t even look up from his drink. “Donotsay you’ll bring Maddie. That…No.” He shook his head, brows drawn tight together. “Definitely not. You need a date. No excuses.”
