My Billionaire Protector

by R. R. Banks

  She swallows hard and tries to put a tough look on her face, but I can see the fear in her eyes as the man glares down at her. He's got a strong jawline, blue-gray eyes, and sandy-blonde hair. He has classic good looks. Being the classic movie junkie I am, he reminds me of a young Marlon Brando, and I feel like I might swoon if I look at him too long.

  “Sweetheart, you ain't from this neighborhood,” he says. “Just a piece of friendly advice, but you really don't wanna step up on somebody like that. That's just an invitation for things to go sideways real fast.”

  “What are you going to do, hit me?” she spits.

  “I’m not gonna hit you,” he says. “Like I said, I'm just givin' you some friendly advice. When you bring your posh little ass down here from the Upper East Side to slum in the Kitchen, you need to know where you're steppin'. That's all I'm sayin'.”

  I stand to the side, completely forgotten, watching the exchange silently. The air around us is electric and filled with tension. It's like the atmosphere right before a storm break.

  I don't know what it is, but as I look at him, and listen to him speaking, I don't believe he'd actually hurt Jade. Or me. He might seem tough. But, there's something about him that also seems – kind. It's like he's wearing a mask to hide his true self and keep him safe.

  But, something – maybe, my intuition – tells me that beneath that mask is a completely different man. Someone who is kind and caring. The mask of the bad boy he wears is just that – a mask. A facade. A persona he's constructed for – for whatever reason.

  And still – that intense aura of familiarity lingers.

  “That's pretty presumptuous, you cretin,” Jade hisses. “To assume we're from the Upper East Side like that. How totally gauche. Stereotype much?”

  The man laughs like it's the funniest thing he's ever heard, practically doubling over in hysterics. I have to admit, it is pretty funny, but I bite back my grin, and the giggle that threatens to bubble up out of my throat. Jade doesn't even realize how she's just given herself away, and I don't want to add to the embarrassment he's about to rain down over her.

  “You're hilarious,” he says. “For a pampered little rich girl, you're damn funny.”

  “I don't see what's so funny,” Jade shoots back at him.

  She cuts me a curious look, but I'm still trying to keep the smile off my face, so I just shrug like I have no idea what he's talking about.

  “First of all,” he says, “people from around the Kitchen don't use words like presumptuous or cretin. And we certainly don't use words like gauche. Those are words you only know, let alone use, if you go to some fancy prep school in Richie-Rich land.”

  Jade's face colors and she looks away, realizing her error. As if he'd forgotten I was even there, he turns to me and I see his eyes widen slightly. And when our gazes meet, I feel a current of electricity pass between us. Then, I see a light of recognition dawn in his eyes, and see a slow sweet smile touch his lips.

  He snaps his fingers, and then points one at me. “Your name doesn't happen to be Darby, does it? Darby White?” he asks. “I mean, I feel stupid for asking, it's just that –”

  “Yes. Yes, it is,” I say quickly, maybe too quickly. “I'm Darby White.”

  I'm speaking too fast, I know, but I feel an excitement bubbling up within me. I finally have a name to put with the face. I only hope it's the right name.

  “And you're Carter Bishop,” I say. “Right?”

  He nods, and his smile grows even wider. “Damn,” he says. “I can't believe it. What's it been, eight years?”

  I nod. “Yeah, about that.”

  “I don't believe it,” he says. “Look at you, all grown up.”

  “Yeah, I can't really believe it either. I mean, what are the odds?” I say. “How'd you even know it was me after all these years?”

  I see a hint of color in his cheeks and he cuts his eyes away from me. “Your eyes,” he says. “I remember your eyes.”

  “This little reunion thing happening here is great and all,” Jade interrupts as she gets her footing back. “But, who in the hell are you?”

  I turn to Jade and give her a smile. “Sorry,” I say. “This is Carter. He was in the home Mason and I stayed at after our parents died. He – watched over us.”

  He shrugs. “Not really.”

  I laugh. “I clearly remember you beating up a guy who was picking on Mason.”

  “I don't remember that,” he says.

  “Great, so he's a thug?” Jade snaps. “Nice company you keep, Darbs.”

  I roll my eyes. “Easy, Jade,” I say. “Carter took care of us while we were in the home. He looked out for us, and made sure nobody messed with us.”

  Jade looks at me and then to Carter and I can see something passing across her face, as well as a bit of a fire burning behind her eyes. I know exactly what she's thinking and know her expressions well enough to know that it's lust. A burning, insatiable, unquenchable lust. I don't know why it took me so long to recognize it.

  “Listen,” Carter says, looking at his watch. “I need to go run a few errands. Can I give you two a lift somewhere?”

  Considering we'd taken a cab down to the Kitchen, I'm certainly not opposed to getting a ride. I look over at Jade, who gave me a small, sly grin. I know exactly what she's thinking.

  “Yes,” she replies, letting her eyes slide up and down his body.

  “That'd be great,” I say. “Thank you, Carter.”

  We follow him around the building to a parking lot. He walks over to a classic Thunderbird convertible that looks like it's in perfect condition. It's a beautiful car and kind of fits with that “old Hollywood” vibe he has about him, and somehow, it endears him to me a little bit more.

  Despite the fact that it's a chilly day, the top is down.

  He holds open the door and pushes the seat forward. Jade all but pushes me into the back seat, and then slips into the front seat herself. He closes the passenger side door, and I hear Carter laughing to himself as he comes around to the driver's side.

  He slips behind the wheel and buckles himself in, adjusting the rearview mirror so he can see me. When our eyes meet in the mirror, I feel my breath catch in my throat, and an electrical charge surge through my body that makes me flush.

  I haven't seen him since I was a child, a full decade ago, and yet I somehow feel like I know him. I somehow feel comfortable around him. It's crazy, I only spent about a month around him, but it feels like there’s a connection between us.

  Carter starts the car, and Bing Crosby's voice issues from the speakers, singing some old holiday classic. Carter quickly turns the volume down and looks a little abashed.

  “Sorry,” he says.

  “No need to apologize for liking Christmas music,” Jade says, her voice sultry. “I think it's sweet. It's not often you see a man like yourself getting into the Christmas spirit.”

  He laughs. “Hate to break it to you, but I'm not a fan of Christmas,” he says. “Some of the music is nice to listen to now and then, but Christmas itself is just another day to me. Nothing special about it. That song just happened to be on the station.”

  Undeterred, Jade moves herself across the seat, moving a little closer to him. He looks at her, a cocky grin on his face, and shakes his head.

  “Better buckle up,” he says and pushes her back to her side of the big, bench seat.

  Carter pulls out of the parking lot and looks at me in the mirror. “So, where am I taking you?”

  “Wherever you'd like,” Jade says, a flirty tone in her voice.

  He smiles but says nothing. Instead, his eyes continue to flit between me and the road. Traffic isn't moving very quickly, and the sun is beginning to drift toward the horizon. A staccato rhythm beats wildly in my chest whenever his eyes catch mine in the mirror.

  “How old are you?” Jade asks.

  “Twenty-two,” he replies.

  “Well, why don't we go grab something to drink and go park somewhere,” Jade suggests
.

  I'm not much of a drinker, to be honest. Never have been. I don't need alcohol to have a good time.

  But, if it means spending a little more time with Carter, I'm suddenly all for it. It's crazy, but I want to know more about him.

  It makes absolutely no logical sense. I barely knew him at St. Agatha’s. I was only eight years old. I know this is crazy. I know how utterly ridiculous this all sounds, and there's part of me that's shocked at the thoughts racing through my head. I mean, I was just a little kid when I knew him, really. Maybe, he was my first crush or something. I really don’t know.

  “How old are you two?” he asks.

  “We're both eighteen,” Jade quickly respond.

  “Uh-huh,” he replies. “Look, I'm not gonna get myself into trouble with the cops by givin' booze to a couple of underage girls.”

  She shrugs and runs a fingertip up his arm. “You won't get in trouble if you don't tell anybody. And I know neither of us is going to say anything.”

  He casts her a sidelong look, and I watch his jaw clench, and his eyes narrow. I can just tell that he's about to lower the boom on Jade, and just hope that he's a delicate about it.

  “Lemme guess,” he says, “you’re tryin’ to piss off your rich parents? Find some lowlife like me to bang? Do somethin’ a little different? You're edgy like that, right, princess?”

  So much for being gentle or delicate about it. Still, I can't deny that what he's saying isn't true.

  But, as she hears his words, Jade recoils, and I see her face darken. I look away, and bite my lip, doing my level best to stifle the laugh that's threatening to burst out of my throat. He hit the nail on the head and she knows it. But she can't really admit to it, so she figures it's best to throw a fit of righteous indignation instead.

  “Don't you dare to presume you know me,” she says, mustering as much disdain in her voice as she can – a move she's very well versed in pulling.

  Her attitude is imperious, and her tone almost regal – like a Queen addressing a lowly subject – but Carter is having none of it. He's got her number in a big way, and I can tell that he's more than happy to stand toe-to-toe with her, and trade verbal blows.

  It's something Jade isn't used to – guys generally tend to grovel when they displease her. They fall to their knees, bowing and doing every pathetic thing they can think of to get back into her good graces.

  Not Carter, though. I love my best friend with all my heart, but it's kind of funny to see her get knocked down a few pegs.

  “You are such a jerk,” she seethes. “Who in the hell do you think you are, speaking to me that way?”

  He shrugs but can't keep a devious little grin from flashing across his face. “Let's think about this for a minute – who's the real jerk here?” he asks. “A rich girl who thinks she can come down here from Richie-Rich land, and expect me to roll over and thank my lucky fuckin' stars before servicing her on demand? Or the guy who says no to that bullshit?”

  Carter is really letting her have it, and although she looks outwardly offended, and is speaking to him with a haughty, imperious tone, I can see in her eyes that his rejection, and verbal takedown of her, is only egging her on.

  “You can just take me home,” she huffs, and gives him the address.

  Jade turns away from him, and pouts in the passenger seat. It's all part of her master plan to rope him in. His eye catches mine in the rearview mirror, and my heart stutters, then almost stops.

  “So, how'd you end up living the high life, Darby?” he asks. “I didn't realize you were living on the Upper East Side.”

  I shrug. “Not my doing,” I reply. “It's my aunt and uncle.”

  “Thought they moved you Upstate?” he asks. “I seem to recall your brother going on and on about the country air, and all the open space. Seemed pretty excited about it, I thought. Never expected to see you back in the city, let alone back in the Kitchen.”

  “They did. We lived in the country for a couple of years. It was nice. Quiet. A lot simpler, actually,” I reply. “Then, my uncle came back down to the city to run his law firm. And, here we are.”

  He nods. “And what about Mason?” he asks. “What's he up to these days?”

  “Following in Uncle Walter's footsteps,” she says. “He's becoming a lawyer too, since he can't really think for himself anymore.”

  “Wow,” he says. “That's great.”

  “Yeah, I guess. Gotta appease the old man, I suppose,” I say and roll my eyes. “What about you? I figured once you got out of St. Aggie's, you would have put Hell's Kitchen behind you and never looked back.”

  He shrugs. “Just doing my thing.”

  “And what is your thing?”

  He looks at me in the mirror and smiles. “You writin' a book?”

  “Maybe,” I reply.

  Jade snorts loudly in the passenger seat, her arms folded over her chest, while she pointedly looks away from us. She's clearly not happy about losing her spot at the center of attention and is doing her best to get Carter to shift his focus back to her. He doesn't. He continues to completely ignore her, which I’m sure is frustrating the hell out of her. She's not used to having to work this hard for a man's attention.

  We ride on in silence for a little bit longer, and then he pulls to the curb outside Jade's place. She quickly gets out of the car, and turns, waiting for me to join her on the sidewalk. I slip out of the backseat, and I’m about ready to close the door, when Carter's voice stops me.

  “Hey, why don't I drop you off at your place, Darby?” he asks.

  “It's okay. I'm only a few blocks from here,” I say. “I can manage.”

  He shrugs. “I'd love to catch up a little more. Come on. Let me give you a lift. It's cold out.”

  I look at Jade and see the irritation on her face. I'm not used to receiving attention from guys. Especially not around her. Honestly, it feels kind of good. It's a nice change of pace. She looks at me and I know what's going through her head. She's already staked her claim and doesn't want me getting too close to Carter until she's done with him.

  “Yeah, that'd be great,” I say. “Thanks.”

  I see a spark of anger in Jade's eyes, so I go and throw my arms around her, hugging her tight, trying to calm her fears.

  “Don't worry,” I whisper in her ear. “It's not like that.”

  “Call me later,” she says.

  “I will.”

  I drop down into the passenger seat of Carter's car and close the door behind me.

  “Bye, Carter,” Jade calls.

  He gives her a wave, and I blow her a kiss as we pull out into traffic. Truthfully, I don't know why I'm going with him. I told Jade it's not like that, but I don't even know what “that” is. For whatever reason though, I felt compelled to hang out with him a little while longer. I’m curious about the man he's become – especially after watching the way he handled Jade.

  A moment later, my cell phone chimes with an incoming text message. I look at the display and, unsurprisingly, see that it's from Jade.

  “He's super hot,” the message says. “I want him. He's mine. Keep your claws off him. Love you.”

  I laugh and drop the phone back into my purse, shaking my head. Carter looks over at me and grins.

  “Let me guess,” he says. “Jade?”

  I nod. “Yeah, seems like she's a little smitten with you.”

  “Well, I hate to burst her bubble,” he says. “But, she's not really my type. Besides, she seems a little too high maintenance for me.”

  “She can be,” I say. “But, she's a sweetheart if you get to know her.”

  “I see you're a rich girl now,” he says, diverting the conversation away from Jade.

  “I wouldn't say that,” I reply. “It's my aunt and uncle who are rich. I'm just the lucky beneficiary.”

  “Still,” he says. “Upper East Side address? Posh prep school? Seems like you're doin' pretty okay for yourself.”

  I shrug. “I guess,” I say. “But, l
ike I said, it's my aunt and uncle's money. Not mine.”

  “For what it's worth, you don't seem like the uptight-as-hell, snooty type,” he says. “Not like your friend. You seem a lot more down to earth than she did.”

  “Thanks,” I say. “I try.”

  I give him a warm smile. I don't know why, but him seeing me for who I am – not for where I live – feels nice. Where I come from, people judge you by where you live. The car you drive. The clothes you wear. They don't take the time or effort to actually see you as a person. It's doubly harsh at my school. To have somebody see me for the content of my character, rather than my zip code, is a nice change of pace.

  “I don't have to be home right away,” I say, and then immediately bite my lip, not knowing why I just blurted that out.

  Carter looks over at me, a crooked grin tugging at one corner of his lips. My eyes widen, and my mouth falls open as I hear the words I just spoke echo through my head again and again – and I cringe a little more each time. I'm not that kind of girl. I don't just casually sleep around. That's not who I am. I have more respect for myself than that.

  Part of me wants to take it back, knowing what it implies, and how he might take it – but, what I find utterly shocking is that, another part of me doesn't. There is something about Carter Bishop that draws me to him. Beckons me. Something that makes me feel – safe.

  It's crazy. It's stupid. I don't really know him. And hell, I only knew him for a month back when I was a little girl. And yet, when he turns those piercing eyes on me, and flashes me that handsome grin, I can't help but feel myself being carried away by a river of emotion. I can't help but feel like I'm safe with him. It completely defies rational thought and logic, but I just somehow know he'll never hurt me.

  “Okay,” he says and gives me a little wink.

  My head is spinning, and I feel nauseous. My heart is thundering in my breast and my stomach is churning with both excitement and fear, as I let Carter navigate away from my home. We move back out into traffic, and I let him take me to God knows where.