The Construction Worker & the Billionaire 2

by Sierra Rose

  He leaned forward across the table, his lips just inches from her own.

  “Let me show you.”

  She wasn’t going to let him touch her lips. But she needed him to stay close for the pictures.

  “Wait. I just want to savor this moment forever, to stare into those gorgeous eyes of yours.”

  He stroked her face. “You’re romantic. I like that.”

  “I love staring into a man’s eyes. It’s like I can see their soul, know all their secrets.”

  “I don’t have any secrets. You’re all mine. I live alone, no wife, no girlfriend. Just looking for Miss Right.”

  Keep blabbing away. The tape recorder is catching everything, jerk!

  “I just live for the moment,” she said.

  “Are you a spontaneous woman?”

  “Yes, I like to think so.”

  “I feel like we have this connection, and that we could have one hell of a night. If you’re up for it, if we connect well over dinner.”

  “I’m definitely feeling the sparks.”

  “Me too. Just give me one night. And I promise it’ll be the very best night of your life.”

  There was a sudden bang on the window, and they both jumped back. They whirled around at the same time, staring incredulously at the glass.

  An angry man was standing outside.

  Logan. Shit!

  The moonlight flashed ice blue in his eyes, as he gave Brad Harmon a quick once-over, then turned with excruciating slowness to Lacy. Their eyes met and she stifled a silent gasp.

  Chapter 18

  It took twenty seconds for Logan to get inside the restaurant. Just twenty seconds, but to Lacy, it felt like a small eternity.

  The entire establishment had yet to make a sound. Diners were paused with their forks lifted halfway to their mouths. Waitresses were frozen mid-pour. Across the room, Quin was staring with panic-stricken eyes, her phone still pointed directly at their table. But by far, the most formidable reaction Lacy had yet to deal with was Brad Harmon himself.

  “Do you know that guy?”

  His fingers tightened around her wrist, and Lacy snapped back to the present. There was a stiffness to the way he was holding himself, and judging by the glint of suspicion in his eyes, he clearly suspected she was doing what he’d come there to do himself. To cheat on a spouse.

  “I...he’s...” She floundered for a second, peripherally tracking Logan’s progress as he stormed briskly inside. Usually, the lies came very easily. But for one of the first times in her life, she was having a true ‘deer-in-the-headlights’ moment. “I used to. Back in college. The guy’s...well, I guess you could say he’s a bit unstable.”

  The suspicion eased up, but his hand remained. If anything, he only tightened his grip as Logan marched across the room towards their table.

  Please let this not be happening... Please let this not be happening...

  Lacy swiveled desperately around in her chair, searching for any kind of escape. Why the hell had she agreed to let Quin come along? Sarah would have pulled the fire alarm by now, screamed that she saw a rat and sent the entire restaurant pouring out into the street. Under no circumstances would Lacy be expected to handle this entirely by herself.

  On that note, Logan looks about ready to burn this whole place down for real.

  “Unstable, huh?” Brad leaned back in his chair, trying to project an air of confidence while Logan stormed towards him looking like the god of thunder himself. “I can see that.”

  Lacy resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and tried to come up with some sort of plan instead. Posturing aside, did this cheating bastard really think he could hold a candle to Logan Alexander Chase? The two men were from totally different worlds. Olympus and Cleveland.

  “Maybe we should just get out of here.” Lacy pushed tentatively to her feet, estimating she only had about five seconds left. “Before he tries to cause a scene—”

  “We’re not going anywhere.” Brad jerked her back to the table so abruptly, she let out a quiet gasp. Her eyes flashed up uncertainly, and he was quick to counter with a slimy smile. “I booked this table special just for us. I’m not about to leave on account of your crazy ex.”

  It was a good point, but for the first time, it looked as though Brad Harmon might be underestimating things.

  “Lacy.” Logan greeted her coolly, but she didn’t think for a second that any of the anger was directed at her. His blue eyes were fixed upon her imprisoned wrist instead—glowing with a kind of quiet rage that sent little chills up and down her spine. “Is everything alright?”

  Soft as it was, his voice seemed to ring out in the restaurant. It echoed off the four walls, and bounced back in terrifying little waves upon the table—getting scarier every time.

  “Uh...yeah.” Lacy’s eyes darted around the room, praying for a meteor to smash through the ceiling and end this painful encounter before it could begin. “I’m fine.”

  Logan took a step closer. She could see a muscle twitching in the back of his jaw.

  “Are you sure?”

  The question might have been directed to her, but it was clear that he was talking to someone else. Sure enough, a tremor shot through Brad’s hand and he suppressed a visible gulp. Up close, Logan looked even more intimidating than when he was storming into the restaurant. It was a retreat if ever he saw one. Then again, Lacy was wearing that red dress...

  “She said that she’s fine,” he snapped, rubbing his thumb possessively over Lacy’s knuckles as she did her best not to gag. “And not to be rude, but you’re interrupting...”

  Logan’s eyes danced as his competition foolishly rose to the challenge. For a minute, it was very easy to see the champion of industry who had singlehandedly brought the city of Miami to its knees. But just a second later, that devilish fire melted into a charming smile.

  “I can see that,” he replied cheerfully, flashing those pearly whites at both Brad and Lacy in turn. “I can see that you’re on a date.”

  He stressed the word date in a way that made Lacy blush as red as her dress, but before either she or Brad could think of a thing to say, he reached behind him and pulled up a chair.

  “It almost made me think twice about coming inside.”

  Brad blinked. Logan smiled. Lacy prayed again for the meteor, glancing tentatively at the ceiling, like at any moment, it might come smashing through.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced.” With a confidence usually reserved for rock stars and royalty, Logan reached across the table and extended his hand. “My name is Logan Chase. Perhaps you’ve heard of me.”

  Lacy raised her eyebrows slowly. Perhaps you’ve heard of me? Really? But much to her extreme dismay, not only did Brad accept his hand, but he actually did know who Logan was.

  “Of course,” he mumbled, shaking in spite of himself, “some kind of billionaire from out in Florida, right? I think I saw you last year in Forbes.”

  Seriously?! Am I the only person in the world who doesn’t read real estate weekly?!

  Logan ignored her clear discomfort and kept that winning smile plastered stubbornly on his perfect face. For a second, it looked like the two men were trying to discreetly break each other’s fingers, but a moment later, Brad pulled back with a slight wince.

  “So—what are we drinking?” Logan snapped his fingers high above his head. A second later, a waiter appeared with another place setting, along with an empty glass for wine. “I would highly recommend the Rothschild Bordeaux, but if you’ve already opened a bottle—”

  “Logan.” Lacy said the name as an accusation, pleased when those high cheekbones colored with the slightest hint of a blush. “What are you doing here?”

  He turned to her with a look of supreme innocence, raising his glass automatically as the waiter leaned down to pour. “Well, that’s funny, Lacy. I could ask you the same question.”

  Her heart skipped a beat, as Brad’s head snapped up in confusion.

  “La
cy? What are you talking about? Who’s Lacy?”

  “An existential question I can assure you I’ve been grappling with for the better part of a week,” Logan replied easily. “But in this case, I’m not sure exactly what you mean.”

  Brad set down his wine glass with unnecessary force—showering the starched tablecloth with little drops of crimson. “This is Samantha. Samantha Cregg.” His eyes glittered wickedly as they looked Logan up and down. “You clearly have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Lacy died a million deaths, as Logan leaned back in his chair—his eyes twinkling with amusement as they rested slowly upon her blushing face. “Clearly.”

  For a second, she thought that might be the end of it. She certainly prayed that would be the end of it. But Logan was just getting warmed up.

  “Samantha must have totally slipped my mind,” he continued innocently, his eyes locking squarely onto hers. “You just look like so much of a Lacy to me.”

  A surge of anger shot through her, crowding out all the fear, and for the first time since Logan sat down at the table, Lacy went on offence. Matching him smile for smile.

  “Well names can be tricky things, can’t they?” she replied sweetly. “In fact, I could have sworn you look more like a Dylan.”

  A flicker of shame broke through his confident smile. So fast, she thought she must have imagined it. Just a second later, it was gone. And he was staring deeply into her eyes.

  “Please don’t ever compare me to Dylan. I think we both know that’s not who I am.”

  “But then I guess we all make mistakes, don’t we? At least I don’t pretend to be somebody else.”

  “That’s true,” he said softly, angling entirely towards her as if they were the only two people sitting at the table. “But what matters is what you do afterwards. If you repent and try to put it behind you. If you sincerely apologize—”

  Lacy’s burst of laughter cut him short. It was carefree and unrestrained, setting both of the men at the table on edge. “But what’s an apology? Just words. When the lie is something you put into action. The lie gets you into people’s lives. Gets you into their beds.”

  Logan’s face crumbled for a split second, and he reached reflexively for her hand. “Lacy, that was never my intention—”

  “I told you. It’s Samantha.” Brad scooted his chair closer to the table, as if proximity alone would prevent him from being ignored. Despite the coded conversation going on around him, he was somehow clinging to the idea that his perfect date might still end up in his hotel room. “I don’t see how you could possibly forget that. You dated in college, right?”

  Logan glanced over in surprise, as if he’d entirely forgotten the man was there. That surprise soon turned to merriment as the apologies were forgotten, and the game commenced once more. “Did we now?” His lips curled up with a mischievous smile. “That’s right, it’s coming back to me. You were the doe-eyed theater major, I was the dreamy professor—”

  “And what college was that again?” Lacy interrupted, forcing her lips into a sarcastic smile. “Was it Stanford or Princeton? I can never remember.”

  “Go tigers.”

  “And for the record, you should be the theater major, given all your past experience in acting and drama. Weren’t you up for the Oscar in that movie, Trading Places? And not the movie with Eddie Murphy and Dan Aykroyd. It’s the other one. The new movie where you swapped lives with your twin brother? I believe you got the Oscar for that performance. The emotion and passion were so riveting and heartfelt. The heroine was totally duped and heartbroken. Your brother should get an award for best supporting actor.”

  Lacy’s date cocked an eyebrow. “So why don’t we just invite the brother to dinner too?” he asked sarcastically.

  Logan turned toward him. “Sadly, he’s off somewhere in the Caribbean on my yacht.”

  “I guess someone sure is enjoying your life,” Lacy said.

  “Excuse me, sir?” The quick back and forth came to an abrupt standstill, as the waiter returned and tapped nervously on Logan’s shoulder. “But will you be ordering with the others?”

  “No.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Why, yes. I would love to.” Logan took the menu with another breathtaking smile. “Are there any specials today? Or are we just winging it?”

  Oh—for fuck’s sake!

  Lacy pushed back from the table, just barely keeping her composure beneath a precarious smile. “Logan, can I talk to you for a second?”

  The infuriating billionaire stayed exactly where he was, staring up at her with wide, unblinking eyes. “Sweetheart, anything you want to say to me, I’m sure you can say to the whole group. This is a date, after all,” he added with a theatric eye roll in Brad’s direction. “We don’t want to exclude anyone...”

  “Yeah man—this is a date!” Brad interjected, trying hard to rally. “So in case you wouldn’t mind, the lady and I would like to be getting on with it. Alone.”

  “And what lady would that be?” Logan asked with a little frown. “Samantha or Lacy?”

  “What are you even—”

  “Tell you what,” Logan reasoned, “you can have Samantha. She’s all yours. But Lacy and I actually need to be getting on with things ourselves.”

  “You have seriously lost it, Miami!”

  “I’m not the one wearing a clip-on tie,” Logan retorted.

  “WOULD BOTH OF YOU JUST STOP IT ALREADY?!”

  For the second time in less than five minutes, the restaurant went dead quiet. By now, people seemed to be expecting it. In fact, Lacy had the horrible suspicion that several had been secretly taping the entire train wreck on their phones. Her young receptionist included.

  “I’m not going to be going ANYWHERE with EITHER ONE of you, because this is under no circumstances A DATE!”

  “Well I agree,” Logan muttered quietly. “The Napa Valley Red hardly lends itself well to a romantic evening...”

  “SHUT UP, LOGAN!”

  By now, anyone who wasn’t already watching was on the edge of their seats. The food itself had been long forgotten. Even the kitchen staff had ventured out to watch the drama unfold.

  “YOU!” Lacy pointed a manicured finger at Brad’s chest. “This entire thing was a setup, curtesy of Verum Investigations. Go home to your wife! You can expect the bill shortly.”

  Brad pushed to his feet, completely stunned. It took a second or two for him to catch his breath, before he offered a tentative, “...so your name’s not really Samantha?”

  She handed him her card and his eyes widened in horror.

  “GO!” she said.

  He scampered out of his seat faster than anyone could catch him, racing desperately to the front door—tearing right past Quin and her camera in the process.

  “And YOU!”

  Lacy suddenly lowered her voice, her arm falling limp to her side. She didn’t have the energy to shout anymore. She didn’t have the energy to fight, or to run, or to try to see the good in things. The beautiful man staring back at her in the flickering candlelight had broken her heart.

  There wasn’t anything left to say.

  “...just go home.”

  She was out the door without another word. Without even a glance behind her, or a thought as to who was going to pick up the check.

  She was halfway down the block, poised with her hand raised in the air for a taxi, when a wiry hand grabbed her suddenly by the wrist.

  “Hey!” She whipped around to see Quin’s shell-shocked face. “Are you okay? That was really intense in there!”

  Lacy’s eyes narrowed as she turned back to the street. “Yeah, no thanks to you. You better have gotten a damn good picture hanging back in the shadows—leaving me all alone.”

  Quin blushed self-consciously, glancing down at her camera. “Don’t worry, I got several. You came pretty close to kissing him. Did he say incriminating stuff?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. We have it on video with pi
ctures to back it up. I love that secret surveillance you wear. I’m sorry I never came but—it wasn’t my fault.” She shoved Lacy playfully in the side, trying her best to coax a smile. “You never gave the secret signal.”

  “The secret signal.” Lacy turned around slowly, fixing the young girl in an inescapable stare. “I was caught in the middle of an uptown pissing contest, and you expected me to dump a glass of water on myself just to get your attention.”

  “...rules are rules.”

  “Go. Now.” Lacy’s lips twitched up as Quin scampered away with a grin. “Before I put these kickboxing skills of mine to good use.”

  “See you tomorrow, boss!”

  She laughed. “Sleep badly.”

  Chapter 19

  Alone at last, Lacy turned back to the road and raised her hand once more. A taxi saw her almost immediately and started weaving its way over through traffic, battling slowly to the curb. If only it had gotten there in time. If only it had seen her a little sooner.

  “Samantha, huh?”

  Lacy turned around to see Logan walking slowly towards her. His hands were tucked deep in his pockets, and there was a little twinkle in his eyes.

  “Have I started a new false-name craze I’m currently unaware of?”

  “You’re going to make jokes?” Lacy asked in surprise. “Really?”

  His face fell at once, as his head bowed with a sigh. “No. No jokes.” The clouds opened and a light misting of rain fell down onto his shoulders, soaking its way slowly through his golden hair. “Lacy I...I don’t know how to get us past this. I don’t know how to even begin to apologize, to convince you that everything I said back at the diner is true—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she replied hotly. “Don’t you get that? The one thing I required from you was the truth, and you lied to me the entire time. It doesn’t matter if you’re sorry—this is who you are, Logan. You can’t change that—”

  “Is that really what you think?” he interrupted, raising his voice to be heard over the growing howl of the wind. “Do you really want to know who I am?”