Page 71 of The Grumpy Billionaire
Bruce’s face became animated. He was kind of sweet, actually, like a goofy kid.
“Well, I’ve never been to Mexico. I saw the beaches there on Girls Gone Wild Cozumel, and they aresweet. And I always wanted to go to Jamaica and try the bona fide ganja, right from the motherland, you know?”
He pantomimed smoking a joint, nodding his head with a druggie-looking smile on his face.
Correction—therewassomething I wanted to do less than go on vacation with this guy—try the bona fide ganja from the motherland. I looked down at my watch.
Impossible—we’d only been herethirtyminutes?
“Where would you go—if you could choose anywhere?” he asked.
“Oh, I’ve always wanted to see Australia.”
Reid and I had decided that was where we would honeymoon, and we’d even been willing to have a winter wedding so we could travel there during that continent’s warm-weather season. Those had been childish dreams and plans, put behind me long ago. But I did still wish I could see Australia at least once in my life.
“Yeah, that could be cool,” Bruce agreed in his cheerful way. “I’ve never been to that part of Europe.”
My fork froze in mid-air as I debated over whether to correct him.
Nah.It wasn’t worth the effort. If he ever ended up going there, I assumed he’d find out he was on the wrong continent when his plane touched down. Taking a bite of my seared tuna, I gave Bruce a wide-eyed nod.
He went back to sawing his steak, happily chattering between bites.
“I thought after dinner we could go dancing at this great club I know. My buddies and me go all the time—you’re gonna love it. And wait till they see me walk in with the hottie reporter from Channel—”
“I don’t think I can tonight,” I interrupted, wrinkling my nose apologetically. “I’m pretty tired.”
No way was I spending my after-dinner hours with Bruce. I only had about, oh… a half hour more patience left in me before I’d have to claim headache and leave the restaurant—alone.
“Oh. That’s okay. We can just go back to your place or something. My roommate is having a party at our apartment tonight, and we wouldn’t have any privacy.”
He gave me a smile that I thought was meant to be seductive, and then I realized what he was saying.
My jaw might have fallen open. Did he actually think I was going to sleep with him tonight? In spite of my carefully cultivated reputation, I wasn’t that easy.
And that was besides the fact that Bruce might literally be the last man on earth I’d ever have sex with. I was so annoyed I started to tell him so, but before I could speak, another voice intruded.
“Mara.”
Low and pleasantly rough, it could only belong to the absolute last person I wanted to see at this moment.
TWENTY-FOUR
Rainy
Mara
Reid stood beside our table. Not alone.
By his side, clasping his hand in her skinny acrylic-tipped fingers was the girl from the photo.
She looked exactly like the kind of woman billionaires dated. Her wispy body was sheathed in a clingy turquoise mini-dress that dipped low in the front, revealing luscious cleavage attached to some expensive-looking breasts, and leaving little else to the imagination.
Her dangling earrings brushed the perfect skin of her cheeks. Long, dark hair swung in a straight sheet past her shoulders.
Hmmph.So much for Reid’s claim of preferring wavy hair. She wore makeup but probably didn’t need it, as she was one of the most physically perfect women I’d ever seen.
Bruce must have agreed because he nearly spit out the mouthful of beer he’d just taken. His face displayed the glazed expression of a man who thought he must be dreaming.
