WIFE WANTED (A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance) (6 page)

He stared at the tattoo for a long time, remembering how, in the beginning, it had been done to match hers. Then when she’d died, he’d added her initials. His thumb brushed over the black ink and he felt the familiar pain tighten his chest. Heard the sirens wailing in the distance. If he’d been faster to react…if he’d seen the headlights just a second sooner…

If the asshole that hit them hadn’t been drunk.

“Riley, you ready?” Ben called. “We need to swing by your office to go over some merger papers before your date tonight!”

“The merger. Almost forgot about that.” How could he, though? It was going to be the next great step for the company. A contract with the CIA and Homeland Security. It was going to take his company to the next level and help it grow tenfold over the next five years. Creating jobs for the city and giving him a chance to set up new offices all across the globe…if he could get married in the next two months.

Just one more thing to add to his plate of heaping problems. Riley grabbed his black leather jacket and followed Ben out the door and down the twenty floors to the waiting town car.

***

“Evening, Riley,” Linda, his secretary, said as he exited the elevator.

“Linda. So I hear I have some papers to take care of?”

She nodded but looked a bit frantic, eyes darting to his office door and back. “I tried to stop her, but she insisted. Tony’s in there with her just in case.”

“Her who?” Riley snapped, though he already had a feeling he knew. He took a deep breath, then smiled at Linda. “It’s all right. Go ahead and sign out for the evening. I’ll take care of this.”

“I’m sorry, really, I tried to stop her.”

“It’s fine, Linda,” he said gently. “Really. Have a good night.”

She nodded, then hurried back around her desk to pack up her things as Riley marched towards his open office door. He normally left it unlocked. He trusted everyone in his building and never had an issue before. Now, he wished he’d brought Ben in with him to at least run interference, but Tony was there. He’d keep the crazy woman from smacking him again. He hoped.

“Ms. Chandler,” he snapped as he entered his office and spotted the familiar redhead sitting in a chair in front of his desk. “Evening, Tony.”

“Mr. Marston.” The security guard nodded. “The lady here refused to budge.”

“And you didn’t want to call the cops?” he asked with a wink.

“Not unless you want me to, sir,” Tony said with a smile.

Riley sat down in his chair and glared at Diane sitting stiffly in her chair, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “I don’t know. Do we need to call them?”

Her eyes narrowed even more. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Technically, you are trespassing. What do you want?”

“I wanted to see if we could come to some sort of deal about your…predicament.”

“Really? And what, may I ask, is that?”

She smiled slowly…until she saw Tony standing in the corner. “Not in front of him.”

Riley rubbed his forehead, trying to ignore the headache blooming there. “Tony, could you please wait outside?”

“As long as she doesn’t try to slap you again,” he muttered, then went out and shut the door behind him.

“There, we’re alone. Now what do you want?”

The sly smile returned to lips painted in dark red lipstick. She leaned closer to the desk, pushing her cleavage up. Riley glanced at it briefly, then stared back at her, bored. “I have an offer.”

“I’m listening,” he said, trying to sound as if her sudden seduction was working.

“This little issue about marriage…there’s a simple solution. One that fits both our needs.”

He leaned closer too, letting his lips turn up in a smirk. “And what is that?”

“We’re roughly the same age. I might have ten years on you, but who’s counting?” She leaned closer still until her breasts were barely a foot away from his face. She twirled a strand of her hair around her finger and pursed her lips, trying to be coy. “Why don’t you just marry me?”

Riley leaned in closer, acting as if he was going to kiss her, but then the smile fell from his face and his eyes narrowed to angry slits. “Get out of my office, you crazy bitch, before I have Tony throw you out.”

She shoved back from the desk with a curse and paced around, arms crossed over her chest once again. “You know this would be simpler if you said yes. Who’s going to agree to marry you in less than two months? Clock’s ticking, Riley, and if you don’t figure it out quick enough, I’ll take everything that was supposed to be yours.”

“So you want to share it with me instead,” he asked, leaning back in his chair. “You don’t seem like the play-nice type of lady.”

“I have my moments,” she shrugged. “I don’t want to have to fight you on this.”

“Who’s fighting?” He stood and walked around the desk, hands clasped behind his back. “I’m going to find a wife in two months, then you’ll be out of my grandfather’s life and his legacy for good. I don’t know what he saw in you, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you weasel your way in here when you’re clearly bedding down with the enemy.”

“How dare you suggest such a thing!”

“You’re the one that showed up to his wake with William Yancey on your arm! What game are you playing at, Diane?”

She marched right up to him and poked him hard in the chest with her sharp-nailed finger. “One that I’m going to win, and in two months, it’ll be me sitting pretty in that damn chair and you out of here, on the streets where you belong.”

“Tony,” Riley called. “The lady is ready to leave now.”

“What? We’re not done here,” she snapped as Tony opened the door and grabbed her arm.

“Yes, we are, unless you want me to call the cops.”

“Consider my offer, Riley, otherwise in two months, you’re screwed!”

“Over my dead body, bitch,” he whispered as Tony dragged her out of his office, down the corridor, and disappeared towards the elevators. Riley walked around his office, hands curling and uncurling at his sides. She wanted him to marry
her
? She couldn’t be serious? All she wanted was the company.

And he knew damn well she was more than ten years older than him. Her wrinkles showed through her foundation a bit more than she would have liked.

Marry Diane Chandler, his grandfather’s girlfriend? It was like the start to some bad tragic comedy where he’d wind up dead and she’d gain everything in the end. And why should he be out on the street? His parents were white collar. They didn’t come from trash, so why would she say something like that? He sat back down and dialed Ben’s cell before he started to look through the papers that needed to be signed.

“Hey, Riley, what’s taking so long? Your date is in like…twenty minutes.”

“Sorry, unexpected guest. Remind me later that we need to dig a bit deeper on Diane Chandler and William Yancey. She’s up to something.”

“She was in your office? What the hell did she want?”

“Well, first she tried to shove her breasts in my face—fakest I’ve ever seen—and then she asked me to ask her to marry me,” he muttered.

Silence met his words as his pen scratched out his signature on one form, then two.

“Ah, Ben, you still there, buddy?”

“Sorry, just processing. She’s almost old enough to be your mother.”

Riley fought back a shiver. “Yeah, yeah, I think so. Thanks for that mental image.”

“You’re welcome. I’m assuming you said no?”

“Nope, I said yes and we’re getting hitched next week. What do you think I said?” He laughed in disbelief. “Seriously, Ben, I’m desperate, but I don’t have a death wish.”

“She
would
try to kill you,” Ben mused.

“Poison. That’s how she’d do it.”

“You think?”

Riley glanced at the phone, amused. “Yeah, why, what do you think she’ll do?”

“Smother you with her fake boobs, what else?”

“Very funny.” He laughed as Ben cackled through the line. “I’ll be down in five. Don’t laugh yourself into a coma.”

“No promises. That image is going to entertain me for weeks.”

“And you’re supposed to be my friend,” Riley said and hung up on him. He signed the last few papers, tucked them away in the folder, and set it in his outbox for Linda to pick up Monday. It was Friday night, which meant everywhere was going to be crazy. Ben hadn’t even said which restaurant he was meeting this mystery woman at. He just wanted to go and get it over with…then take a nice hot shower and try not to picture anything to do with Diane Chandler.

Chapter 8

Phoebe felt her heart stuttering in her chest. She’d stopped by the hospital very briefly to see if her mother was awake, but she was still out. The doctors thought it was best for the time being, until her head healed more. The last thing they wanted was for her to wake up and realize she’d been hurt. Last time, she’d had a severe episode and nearly injured herself further. Phoebe had held her hand and smoothed back her graying hair around the bandage, promising that soon, everything would be better. She would do whatever she had to.

“Whatever I have to,” she whispered aloud, then headed across the street.

It was busy. Typical for the city on a Friday night. People shouted, horns honked, and sirens howled off and on in the distance. Usually, she stayed in on nights like this, curled up with a book and a bottle of wine…or three. The last few months had been rough and only gotten worse. This was not where she’d wanted to be in her life. Not what she wanted to be doing, yet here she was, stuck in a rut, waiting for some random knight in shining armor to rescue her. But fairy tales weren’t true. Real life didn’t work that way.

She stood under the awning of the casual Italian restaurant and tried to keep an eye out for her date. He had put a picture up of himself, but she still hadn’t. That, and he didn’t even know her real name. She kept repeating it to herself over and over. Anna, her middle name was Anna, and that’s what she was going by tonight. At least until she knew this guy wasn’t some psycho killer. Mitch. His name was Mitch Harper. He had nice, gentle eyes in his picture, and he’d looked in good shape, had a sweet smile…Phoebe grinned just thinking about him. Maybe Charlotte was right and this night wouldn’t be a nightmare. It could be the answer she was looking for.

Or it could be a few hours of hell.

A cab pulled up alongside the curb as thunder rumbled overhead. Another spring storm was rolling in and looked like it was going to spill over the city any second. Phoebe was going to head inside until she saw the man get out of the cab.

“Mitch?”

The man glanced up and smiled. “Anna? Hi, sorry I’m a bit late,” he said, then turned and paid the cab driver. “Things ran a bit long at the office.”

“No problem. I was a bit early.”

They stood there awkwardly for a second before he held out a hand and she took it, hoping he didn’t feel her sweaty palm. “Well, then, it is very nice to meet you, Anna. Shall we go in before it storms?”

He gestured for her to go ahead of him as he held the door. Phoebe had only been to this place once—on a date, funnily enough. It had ended well, but the relationship had petered out. Maybe it was bad luck to come to the same place. Should she have asked to go somewhere else?
Too late now. You’re here, just go with it,
she nagged herself silently as the hostess showed them to a table towards the back corner where it was a bit quieter. She also saw Mitch slip the woman a fifty before he pulled out a chair for Phoebe.

“Now then, are you a wine drinker or a cocktail drinker?”

Phoebe smiled as she spread her napkin on her lap and picked up the menu. “Depends on the day.”

“Well, in that case, how was your day?” he asked with a smile.

“My day was…” She stopped herself short and cleared her throat. No need to scare the man off on the first date. “My day was just fine. After all, I got to meet this great new guy and go on a date with him.”
Cheesy! Good lord, don’t say anything like that again, you’ll ruin it.

Mitch laughed. “Right back at you. So a bottle of red then?”

“Bottle of red will do just fine,” she said, then settled back in her chair as the waitress came to get their order started. Mitch kept the conversation light for the most part, asking about her job and if she liked what she did. Part of her really didn’t want to get into her job, not yet. But the second she told him what she did, he took it as a sign that she wanted to know all the ins and outs of his job.
All
the ins and outs. Every last thing he did as he went about his day as VP of this great company.

Phoebe tried to pay attention, contributing at the right times with a question or a nod. His jokes were dry, and she really just wanted to down the rest of the bottle in front of her and call it a night. But that was rude, and if her mother had taught her anything before she started to lose it, it was to be polite and respectful, no matter whose company one was in. So Phoebe sat back and listened.

***

Riley was going to throttle Ben if he ever made it out of this restaurant alive. The only good part about the night so far was that he was eating the food he’d wanted, even if the present company was not what he’d had in mind. The woman, Trisha, was pretty enough. She had long blonde hair that reflected the candlelight from their table, high cheekbones, and bright green eyes. But it was those eyes…they watched him like a hawk. Like she was waiting to hunt him down and eat him.