The Barefoot Groom: Bachelor Billionaire Romance (A Last Play Companion) (9 page)

Scrunching up her face, she exhaled sharply through her nose. “I work at a corporate office, and I basically do whatever the diva asks.”

“Still not a real answer, but fine. What field do you work in?”

For a second, she looked blank. Then she stood. “Oh, HR.”

Once again, something was off about her. But, at this point, he wasn’t sure if he was the off one. Surely she wouldn’t flat-out lie to him after all her accusations about his false pretenses? He stood too.

She turned to him. “Do you need to get back?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t, but he felt like she wanted to leave. “I guess I distracted you from your work.”

“Yes, you did.” She paused and turned back to him. “But thank you. It was worth it.” She looked out over the landscape.

Turning, he looked out too. Blues, oranges, and pinks, all faded in the sky against the three large peaks of mountains. He couldn’t help it. He reached for her hand. “Yes, it was.”

They stood there linked by their hands. He thought he could feel their hearts beat in sync. Everything fit perfectly. Together.

But she slipped her hand away. “I really need to go.”

W
hat in the
world was happening to her?

London went through the motions of going to bed and tossed fitfully, thinking about Cooper—the way his facial hair was always the perfect length and how much different he looked now than in his pictures online. About the way his hand had felt in hers.

She thought of how interested he’d been when she’d spoken about her nonprofit. The only true thing she’d really told him.

She frowned and wished things were different. Somehow. He’d lost his wife not once, but twice. That man had been through torture.

How was she ever going to write a series on him without revealing the most interesting part of his pain?

If only she didn’t like him. Was like even a strong enough word? Who cared? She hated herself for falling for him.

It felt like no matter how much she stalked him on Google, the words for more articles wouldn’t come.

Fluff articles were always so easy for her, but this man wasn’t fluffy. Picking up one of her perfect hotel pillows with both hands, she threw it across the room.

No matter how deeply she stalked him, none of the information on the Internet was new or interesting. He’d been all over the world. Sold millions of books. Given money to quite a few causes. She knew the thing that had put him over into the billionaire world was the start-ups.

The thing she liked most about him was he didn’t act like a billionaire. Her mind flashed to him flying the helicopter last night. She grinned. Okay, maybe he acted like a millionaire. But a billionaire would have hired someone, right?

She shook her head.

This was stupid. Why was she even thinking this?

She thought of the recent cause for autistic kids he and his Jackson Hole billionaire friends had supported.

She snorted. It was crazy she’d been with him last night holding his hand. She’d even kissed him! More than once!

It had never occurred to her that her journalistic integrity would be tested by the question of dating a billionaire, who also happened to be the subject of her article. Actually, forget about journalistic integrity, her personal integrity was at risk. If only Marcia hadn’t found the mock draft of her article.

* * *

T
he next day at lunch
, London sat alone at a table finishing the last chapter of Cooper’s book.

She’d put her laptop bag on the chair opposite her to dissuade people from sitting there. She wasn’t here to meet people, and she wasn’t about to waste her time getting involved with people from all over the world.

Didn’t they all realize that long distance relationships never worked? After this week, even if there was a connection between them, a real relationship would be nearly impossible to maintain. How many had a job they could just drop and pick up in a different part of the world?

Putting down her apple, she flipped open her laptop and brought up the three articles she’d started last night. All three focused on Cooper’s philanthropy.

Someone pulled a chair back.

Looking up, she saw a hand picking up her bag and laying it on the table.

“Seat’s taken.”

“Would you mind if I just take up the other half of the table? I have some work to do too.”

Looking up, she saw Dante from the other night at the pool. Today he wore black slacks and a light blue short-sleeved polo. He wore, what she was sure he thought was, a charming smile. He really did have ridiculously good-looking classic Italian features.

The mischievous glint in his eye made her smile, and her heart rate involuntarily kicked up.

“I promise not to talk about seven of anything.”

Without wanting to, she let out a light laugh and nodded to the table. “Sure, you can sit,” she said, accepting his smooth apology.

“Thanks.” He sat, opened his laptop, and immediately started typing. “It’s hard to find a place in this room to sit and work for a minute.”

Glancing around, London agreed. “Yeah, everybody’s working it, aren’t they?”

Dante kept typing. “Yeah.”

They both typed in silence for a few minutes. Guilt seeped into her. London couldn’t help but ask. “What are you working on?”

“Oh.” Dante he ran his hand through his thick black hair. “
La mi famiglia
.” He uttered it like a curse word.

“Excuse me?”

The side of his lip quirked up, and he turned his brown, chocolate eyes to her. “My family is unreasonable.” He sighed. “I am part of a family business, and apparently, there were some fires that needed putting out, and I’m the”—he air quoted—“only one who can handle it.” He sighed. “The funny part is that I didn’t even want to come on this retreat, but my parents and my business partners insisted I come.” He grinned. “I am not very good at wooing women.”

Intrigued, she took her bottle of water and took a drink. “What business are you guys in.”

Dante quit typing and turned to her. “We own a chain of Italian restaurants in New York.” He shrugged. “You probably haven’t heard of them.”

Curiosity pulsed through her. “Try me.”

He seemed like he didn’t want to tell her. “De Luca’s.”

“De Luca’s?” Excitement filled her. “I’ve never been there because you always have a wait list on weekends. The word is you have to know the owners to even get a shot at getting in.”

Lifting his hands into the air, he tilted his head to the side and smiled. “Well, now you know one of the owners.”

Stunned, all she could do was laugh. “I had you totally pegged for some dumb frat boy the other night.”

His dark eyes twinkled, and he nodded. “Well, I was that too not too long ago.” He shrugged. “Guess I was just reliving my college days. My brothers are here with me, and we tend to make each other do stupid things. It’s an ongoing competition.”

Sputtering out a laugh, she covered her mouth and shook her head. “How many brothers?”

“Two.” He pointed to a table.

The other two were talking to a couple of blondes. One looked at them and waved.

“That’s Dominick, and the other is Demarco.”

“All D’s.”

He grinned. “Yep, that’s my mom.”

“All single?”

“To my mother’s frustration.”

She smiled. He was cute when he wasn’t doing his brothers’ stupid dares. “So I have a confession.”

“Okay.”

“My name is London Bridge. That’s my mom.”

He laughed. “Okay, you’ve got it much worse.” Then he sighed. “C’mon, you have to admit that using my name as a pick-up line is genius.”

She laughed, suddenly not upset at all that Dante had somehow joined her for lunch. “The worst pick-up line ever. Haven’t you read the book? Chapter two is ‘Don’t Use Cheesy Pick-Up Lines.’”

Dante shrugged, grinning back. “My name usually helps me for a pick-up line.”

She laughed. London picked up her apple and leaned back in her seat. The last person she would have predicted enjoying a lunch with was this beautiful, brown-eyed Italian man. “How many girls have you used it on?”

That took him aback. His brow furrowed. “You mean, how many girls have I
wowed
with the seven circles of love line?”

She rolled her eyes and took a bite of her apple.

White teeth flashed as his smile widened. “Well, I can’t give out numbers, I mean … chapter four, right? ‘Be Humble.’”

The beginnings of laughter caused her to choke on her apple. She found herself in one of those embarrassing moments when the apple gets stuck in her air pipe and won’t go down properly.

More coughing ensued, and a worried expression flashed across Dante’s face.

Pushing away from the table, she kept coughing, standing and reaching for her water. At times like this, she hated how part of her wanted to melt into the floor from shame while the other survival part of her just wanted to get the stupid chunk of apple out of her throat.

Trying to chug water, the apple only got caught deeper and choked her more. It was really stuck. She could hardly move any air at all, couldn’t even cough. She banged her chest to try to dislodge the apple.

Suddenly, Dante’s arms were around her, skillfully giving her one hard thrust that she thought might break her ribs. Then the apple was out, tumbling across the table.

Sucking in a ragged breath of air, London reached for the chair back to support herself. She wasn’t going to die after all. After the second breath, humiliation set in.

At some point, Dante’s brothers must have come because now they stood flanking him. A couple of people were eyeing them, seeming to be on the fence as to whether they should rush over or not.

Dante didn’t let her go immediately. He turned her in his arms. His brown eyes were filled with concern. “Are you okay?”

Embarrassed, she wanted to pull away, but his fresh laundered smell and proximity momentarily threw her off balance. “Yeah.” She croaked, staring up into his eyes.

He ran one hand through his hair and blew out a breath. She thought about how he was far from the creeper she’d thought he was the other night.

He leaned in closer, and for a second, she wondered if he would kiss her. Then he frowned. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

The group around them dispersed, except his brothers.

His hands were still on her shoulders.

Feeling foolish about choking, she tried to calm her heart rate. There was no way to deny the chemistry crackling between them. “Thank you.”

His eyes flicked from hers to her lips, and she wondered if he would kiss her.

She didn’t have long to wonder though.

“London, are you okay?” A deep voice asked behind her.

Turning back she saw Cooper, distress clear on his face. Abruptly, she pulled back from Dante. “I’m fine,” she said quickly.

Cooper looked at Dante then back to London. He frowned. “I saw some commotion over here.”

Another group started to form around them again, obviously wanting to get close to Cooper.

London knew she was majorly blushing. Out of sorts, she turned to Dante. “Thanks, again.” She grabbed her laptop and pushed away from the table.

“London?” Cooper called out.

Turning back, she saw Cooper was already at her side. He kept walking, and she fell into step with him. “Yes?”

“I was just wondering if you’d like to have dinner on my rooftop tonight?”

“Oh.”

Cooper grinned. “I have something I want to ask you about. As friends, of course.”

* * *

A
fter the afternoon classes
, London went to her hotel room and didn’t know why she felt the urge to scrunch and spray her hair and reapply her lipstick. Okay, maybe she did. Grinning to herself, she thought of Cooper’s invitation to dinner.

After the incident at lunch, she’d gone to the other break-out session on self-esteem and pretty much ignored the speaker, dividing her time between researching Dante De Luca and Cooper Harrison on the Internet. Maybe this could be part of the series too.

Not that she had any idea how she would write the stupid series of articles now.

Where to focus? Debunk the guru? Dynamics between two men? Dating a man when you have a boyfriend?

Honestly, she didn’t really know what there was to debunk. The book had been chock full of insightful information about how to start in your own mind and build yourself first. Before embarking on any relationship. Then it went into details about how to be a high value person. It explained how to make sure the man who dated you knew your values and standards and you stuck to them.

How could any honest person find fault with “If a man doesn’t have to work for it, he’ll never appreciate it”? Or “If you know you’re high value, the man will do the work necessary to get you.”

All of it had sort of gotten into her head, and she didn’t know if she liked it or not. Did she know she was high value? Is that the reason her boyfriend had picked her roommate over her? She was the one who’d refused to have premarital sex, and he’d gone somewhere else. She blew out a breath.

It was hard to admit it, but after having some distance from the relationship, she saw that Dillon was a jerk. Thinking about it now, she wondered what kind of a jerk she’d been to even like the man in the first place.