Page 21 of The Billionaire & the Virgin Chef
Thank goodness the rest of it is cut off. But it’sdamaging.
“I’m sorry about that,” I say, flustered as I try to flip it over. But all it does is its usual long buzzing and slips closer to Diane’s line of sight. She’s definitely seen it, from the way she’s stopped what she was doing and freezes with her fingers in midair just inches from the shoulder strap of her purse. “That’s just a message from… someone—” I can’t even scramble toexplain.
She studies me for a moment from the corner of her eye, then composes herself again. “You know my son, Igather?”
“I…yes, Ido.”
“Are you one of his…femalefriends?”
The slightly nauseating way she forms the last phrase worries me a little. “Um, he’s more a friend of a friend,” I say honestly, leaving out the part that we kissed less than twenty-four hours after meeting for the firsttime.
“I see. Sorry to cut this short. Let’s connect by email to finish up thedetails.”
“Yes, that’s fine. Thanks for seeingme.”
“Marie will show you out. Takecare.”
I stare at the half-eaten appetizers. She liked them all. And I’m hired. I think I am. If this tiny incident doesn’t screw it up. God, I hope it doesn’t. Seven appetizers for around a hundred and fifty people, at close to a couple hundred dollars per person. Oh my gosh, I’mrich!
At this rate, a few more gigs like this and I’ll pay off my student loans before the end of thissummer.
If.
If I still have the fuckinggig.
After packing up, I’m on my way down the elevator when my phone buzzes in my purse. I roll my eyes. It’s probably Dylan again. My hands are full, so I ignore it until I put everything back into the catering van and drive out of the undergroundparking.
It buzzes a couple more times when I’m topside. I pull over to the side of the busy street to check. There’s a group message from Rose and Dahlia, and a separate one from Dylan. They all want to know how it went, but Dylan’s message has a little extra. I send a quick reply to Rose and Dahlia that I got the job, then switch over to read Dylan’s text moreclosely.
Dylan: Hey Sexy. Good luck with the meeting. Hope it goes well with Diane. If it does, we should celebrate. Drinks tonight forreal?
Awww hell.I’m going to have to turn him down. Panty-melting kiss or not. No matter how bad I feel for making him drive all the way out to me in the shady part of Brooklyn only to cancel on him. It’s best to accept that our interaction ran its course in his car two nights ago. For all I know, it wouldn’t end up being anything more than just one of those short-livedexperiences.
My instincts tell me it’snot.
That and the butterflies swirling around just from his innocenttext.
Time to pump the brakes on thisthing.
