Billionaire Bad Boys by Holly Hart

Author:Holly Hart [Hart, Holly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Red Cape Romance
Published: 2017-11-24T16:00:00+00:00

The limousine pulls up outside Yautcha after twenty long, agonizing minutes of silence. It quickly becomes apparent that Charlie Thorne doesn’t think of me as an equal. In fact, if he had it his way, I don’t think he would think of me at all.

I don’t know who this guy Harper is, but I guess I’m about to find out.

A white-jacketed maître d’ greets us at the floor to ceiling glass doors. I don’t know how he knew to be there. I guess this is just Charlie’s life.

“Mr. Thorne,” he smiles. “It is such a pleasure to have you join us again. Would you like your usual table?”

For the first time since all this started, I see Charlie crack a genuine smile. “Hey Jimmy,” he says. He brings the man in for a hug. “Good to see you again. Can you put me somewhere quiet instead?”

I look out into the busy restaurant. It’s dark and intimate. Black-jacketed waiters float around – seen but not heard. It’s only just past noon on a Monday, and yet the place is packed. I don’t think Yautcha does quiet. I’m getting ready for the inevitable apology – because that’s what happens in my life – when the exact opposite happens.

“Sure thing, boss,” Jimmy says. “Just give me twenty seconds. Can I get you a drink while you wait?”

Charlie shakes his head.

The wheels spin into motion. In a few seconds, well-heeled diners paying hundreds of bucks a head get asked to stand up, move the different tables, and are given free bottles of wine to calm their plaintive complaints.

We’re sitting down in under two minutes. The table’s laid for three.

“Can I get you anything to eat, Mr. Thorne?” Jimmy asks.

Terrified as I am of the conversation we’re about to have, my stomach rumbles. I’ve never been to a restaurant like this in my life. Hell, a week’s worth of my paycheck at Thorne Enterprises probably wouldn’t cover the entrées. So, I’m kind of hoping that Charlie says yes.

He doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t.

“I’m good, Jimmy; just a bottle of sparkling water.”

Sure. That’s just my luck. I get the one goddamn billionaire in all of New York who isn’t a glutton. I mean, that it seems he’s also the one billionaire in all of New York who isn’t fat, red-nosed and verging on the edge of gout, but still…

I stop thinking about it: about Charlie. It’s not like I’ve got any chance of sleeping with him anyway. I think we’re long past that point.

I cast my eyes longingly around the restaurant. Spicy, Eastern scents waft into my nostrils. I breathe in, deeply. I wouldn’t miss them for the world.

“You’re not hungry, are you?” Mr. Thorne asks. He’s definitely Mr. Thorne when he’s in this kind of mood.

I shake my head. “No,” I reply. “Not hungry,” I lie.

We wait. The sparkling water arrives. We wait some more.

I stare at the perfectly pressed white tablecloth. My heart thuds in my chest. I feel like I’m waiting for Judgment Day.

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