Not wasting any more time, Logan opened the door and stuck his head out. Indicating the coast was clear with a nod of his head, he led her down the hallway and into the ballroom. People still milled about, but most had made their way to their tables. They had been assigned to a round table in the back corner, along with her brother, Emily, Darren, and four other strangers. Logan pulled the chair out for her and sat next to her as the meal began and his own fabulous dinner creations were placed in front of them.
Rachel managed to join in with the conversation and laugh when appropriate. There was only one moment in which she momentarily lost her cool. In between the salad and main entree, she felt Logan reach for her hand under the table, the rough calluses of his fingertips caressing her palm and sending delicious electricity up her arm.
She choked on her water, sputtering out a lame apology as she pressed a napkin to her lips. No one else seemed to notice. The slight twitch of Logan’s lips told her that he was amused by her reaction.
A devious smile played on her mouth and she slipped her foot out of her silver heel, rubbing it gently against Logan’s ankle and up his calf. He swallowed hard, the tips of his ears turning red, and kept his eyes glued on Michael telling a story from the other side of the table about his most recent business investment.
“That’s what you get,” she whispered out of the corner of her mouth, placing her foot back into its heel. “Nothing less than you deserve.”
The quick, smoldering glance he spared her was enough to make her blush deep red. How she wished they could be alone, at that very moment. But it was probably a good thing they were surrounded by a hundred people because she doubted very much she would be able to keep her hands or her lips to herself.
She glanced across the table and her gaze met with a pair of blue eyes. Darren was watching her, something dark passing over his face. The left side of his mouth twitched in a cocky smirk and he held up a beer bottle, toasting her silently.
A sense of dread ran down her spine.
What had he seen?
Chapter Ten
Rachel managed to make it through the rest of dinner without giving the game away. She kept her hands and feet off Logan, although she would’ve liked nothing more than to whisk him into the study again and away from all the snobbish talk in the ballroom.
Once again, she was reminded how much money corrupted, even at a fundraiser for cancer research. The four other people assigned to sit at their table had been snobbish and boring, bragging about their giant homes, luxury vacations, and shady business practices. She could tell that Michael hadn’t been amused. His frown had grown deeper the longer the dinner went on, until finally, Emily curtailed the conversation into recent tech advancements in the medical field, which kept everyone happy.
She kept her gaze solidly away from Darren, but could feel him watching her. Scrutinizing her. As soon as the dinner ended, she excused herself from the table to go check on the status of the caterers in the kitchen. It wasn’t until she was alone in the hallway and felt a hand on her wrist, did she realize she’d been followed.
“So, you and L-train, huh?” Darren asked, swaying slightly. He’d managed to bring his beer along and clutched it in his other hand.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” she answered, trying to detach him from her arm. He had a surprisingly strong grip. “But I need to check on my people.”
“He always does this.” Darren leaned in closer, his rank breath hot on her face. His eyes lost focus and then he blinked, finding her gaze once again. “I tell you, that guy was born under a lucky star. He could get with any woman he wanted during baseball season. And now, he uses his money to get the chicks.”
“He didn’t use his money to get me.” Rachel pressed her lips together and glared at him. “I’m not for sale.”
She’d had enough of this. It was clear Logan’s friend had drunk too much for one night.
“Oh, he’s sneaky about it, trust me.” Darren smiled and wrapped an arm around her back. She shivered with disgust. “Did he show you his private jet? Pretend he doesn’t like flying? That’s usually his first move.”
She blinked hard, her stomach clenching. No, that couldn’t be true. That was just a coincidence. Logan truly had been nervous on that flight. She’d seen it with her own eyes.
“I take that expression on your face as a yes,” he slurred, raising the beer bottle to his lips. “Didn’t he get you a job in his restaurant? He does that all the time. Hires pretty girls off the street to work in his pizza joints and then gets them in the sack. Boy, does it work like a charm. I wish I would’ve thought of that. I would’ve bought a crummy restaurant too if it kept the girls coming my way.”
Rachel shrugged Darren off and took a step away. Anger twisted her lips into a scowl and blood rushed to her cheeks. She didn’t like the thoughts he was putting into her head. “Stop it. Just stop it.”
He threw his hands up, sloshing beer out of his bottle. “Hey, I’m just trying to warn you. Nothing in it for me. I hate to see another girl get used. Especially when he’s just in it for the paycheck. You’re rich, right?”
She flared her nostrils and sucked in a deep breath. So far, everything Darren had said was spot on, but that didn’t make it true. What kind of friend would talk like that about his buddy? She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to ward off the seeds of doubt that he’d planted in her mind.
“Logan has been nothing but a gentleman,” she said, clenching her jaw. “And I’m not rich. My family is. I don’t believe a word you’re saying.”
“Oh, that’s right. You don’t want to believe what I’m saying because Logan’s too nice. He’s got that boy-next-door kind of thing going for him.” Darren’s eyes turned dark and he stumbled toward her. “But there’s no doubting the proof. Ask him why he started this fancy new restaurant idea of his. Go ahead. Ask. There’s your proof that money’s the only thing important to him. You’ll never matter as much as his bank account. He’s just holding onto the hope that one day you’ll change your mind and inherit your billions. I know him, sweetheart. I know how he works.”
Rachel blinked back tears. He couldn’t be right. Logan wouldn’t use her for her family’s wealth. That would be absurd. After all, he had his own money now. He was an ex-pro athlete, a restaurant chain owner, and a billionaire.
She threw Darren one last disgusted look and headed toward the kitchen, ignoring his drunken laughter down the hall. As she went through her checklists with the crew, helping them prepare the last few dishes left to go out before they cleaned up for the night, Rachel couldn’t keep the niggling thoughts from working their way into her brain. Every silent moment she had to herself, Darren’s whispers came back to her.
Logan only wanted her for her money.
It couldn’t be true.
But the conversation was bringing back memories from her own childhood with a father whose sole purpose in life was increasing his wealth. He’d been consumed by money, to the detriment of his wife and children. They had been nothing more than props to him.
The more Rachel thought about it, the more she realized just what her father would’ve done in a situation like this. After all, he’d married her mother because she was the heiress to a small fortune. And time had shown how very little regard he actually held for her. He couldn’t even stand to finish their trip through Europe for their anniversary. He had to cut it short to get back to business. There was no love there.
The rich liked to cling to the rich, no matter the costs. That was the truth of the matter. Very few people managed to remain unchanged by money, like her brother.
But what about Logan? Did Darren truly know him better? How much had he changed over the years?
She had to know.
LOGAN STOOD NEXT TO Michael after the dinner had been cleared, his shoulders aching from the strain of the night. The finest of San Jose society stood milling about the ballroom, waiting for the final speeches of the fundraiser to commence. His
gaze kept darting across the busy room, hoping to catch a glimpse of Rachel in her stunning red dress. She’d left them almost an hour ago to finish things up in the kitchen. That woman did crazy things to him. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking about her.
“What’s with you tonight?” Michael finally asked, elbowing him in the side. “You’ve hardly listened to a word I’ve said and your face is all flushed. What’s going on? Is it the restaurant opening?”
He swallowed and curled his lips into a nervous smile. The last thing he needed was to let Michael in on the secret too early because of his inability to keep himself together. “Nothing’s going on. Just regular jitters. I get this way with all my openings.”
Michael gave him a disbelieving frown and shook his head. “I thought everything was going great. Rachel made it sound foolproof. Was she wrong?”
Inwardly, Logan groaned. Just the sound of her name made him burn with the desire to go hunt her down and take her back to that cozy study.
“Rachel is anything but wrong,” he said in a low voice. “I’m sorry if I’ve seemed distracted tonight. With Mary Prescott coming tomorrow, my nerves are split.”
“Ah, yes, the southern queen of food.” Michael’s lips hinted at a teasing smile. “Is she as ridiculous in person as she seems on TV? Emily loves to watch her show late at night. Unfortunately, she also likes to try out her recipes and I’m the one that has to pay for it. Her skills lie more in matchmaking than in cooking.”
Logan cracked a smile, imagining Michael choking down Emily’s scorched remains of dinner. “Yeah, Mary’s a character. I thought she was going to eat me alive.”
At that moment, Logan caught a glimpse of Rachel headed toward them. An unbidden grin lit up his face. She was so achingly beautiful, it almost hurt to look at her. She gave them each a tight-lipped smile and crossed her arms tightly over her chest as she approached.
“Everything okay in the kitchen?” Logan asked, his grin fading. He didn’t like the expression on her face. Something was wrong.
“All good.” She met his eyes only for a second and then looked away. “Have you seen your buddy, Darren?”
“The one with the attitude?” Michael asked, his eyes narrowing. “He sure can knock back the beers. Our table was beginning to smell like a brewery.”
Logan groaned. “What trouble has he gotten into now? I swear, I should learn my lesson and stop taking him out in public.”
“No trouble,” she replied with a noncommittal shrug. “But last I saw him, he seemed pretty out of it.”
“I’ll check on him in a bit.” He looked at her again, seeing the worry on her face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Why did you decide to open Madison Park?” Rachel asked abruptly, dropping her hands to her hips. She looked up at him expectantly. “Why didn’t you just stick to pizza places? Was there a specific reason for it?”
Logan’s jaw twitched. This wasn’t something they’d talked about before. In fact, it wasn’t something he’d shared with anyone except for Darren. He glanced at Michael, who watched him with the same expectant look. There was no reason he couldn’t tell his oldest friends about it, even if it sounded silly to his own ears.
“Well, I guess I felt like I needed more,” he explained slowly, splaying out his fingers in front of him. “The pizza chain was great, but when you grow up the way I did, it just doesn’t seem like enough. Most of the kids I went to school with came from homes with tennis courts, below ground pools, fancy cars, servants, designer clothes, everything. My parents owned a double-wide on the wrong side of town. My mom taught English and my dad worked at a factory. We were about as far from rich as could be.”
Rachel narrowed her eyes at him. “What does that have to do with opening a restaurant? Didn’t you make your billions in pizza?”
He laughed softly, running a hand over the back of his head. This was starting to feel like a job interview. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had these kind of jitters.
“Yeah, but I don’t know, I never felt like I belonged.” He glanced at Michael and shrugged, hoping for some glimmer of understanding. “I just wanted to belong. Madison Park is my way of doing that. It’s a different class of people who come to eat there. They’re the people I went to school with. When I’m there, I’m not reminded about my tiny bedroom in that trailer home or the patches my mom had to sew into my school uniform because she couldn’t afford a new pair of pants. There, I belong.”
It felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He breathed in deep, relishing the feeling. Ever since he was a boy, he’d longed to fit in with his peers. And now was his chance. Madison Park was a success and with Rachel by his side, everything felt right. He couldn’t be more thankful.
“Let me get this straight.” Rachel’s strained voice drew his attention and his stomach clenched when he spotted her reddening face. She frowned at him, anger boiling in her eyes. “The only thing that’s important to you is your money. You started a new business so that you could fit in with the entitled people who value wealth above anything else. Above strangers, above family, and above love. Am I getting this straight?”
“Rachel.” Michael’s warning tone made her blush even deeper. “Logan gave you a job and he’s our friend. What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m doing what I should’ve done ages ago.” She breathed deeply, tears glistening in her eyes. “Logan, this was a giant mistake. My father put me through it once, I can’t go through it again. I won’t be second to your fortune. I quit the restaurant and I quit us. You’ll have to find yourself another rich girl to snag. I’m done.”
She turned with a sob and picked up her dress to run through the crowd. A few heads turned in her direction, but most people ignored the woman fleeing from the ballroom. Logan watched her go, feeling like his stomach had been filled with lead.
He had no idea what had just happened. Someone needed to translate for him. What had he done wrong?
It wasn’t until Michael cleared his throat did Logan look over at him. There was fury in those dark brown eyes. He’d crossed his arms over his chest and was staring at him, questions written all over his face.
“What did you do to my sister?” he demanded.
Chapter Eleven
Rachel wiped the runaway mascara from under her eyes and threw the tissue in the trash. She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, wishing she hadn’t acted so rashly. She should’ve taken Logan somewhere to talk. Left her brother out of this. But Logan’s answers about his restaurant had infuriated her to a point that she had lost all control.
She still couldn’t believe what she’d heard. Underneath the sweet and charming exterior, Logan was just like her father. Out to fit in with the upper elite and build his wealth. And she had been another feather in his cap. How could she have been so stupid? He had made her think she was the one pursuing him. No doubt, a part of his plan. Just like Darren had hinted. He’d been right about everything.
She pushed through the door and into the hallway of Whitmore Mansion. The guests had begun to leave and her crew were probably already headed back to the restaurant to unload. All she wanted at that moment was to sneak away quietly and drown her tears in bready carbs and ice cream in her studio apartment.
Turning toward the back exit, she squeaked in surprise when she ran into something solid. It was a man in a black tux, his fingers flying over the screen of a smart phone. An apology was just about out of her lips when she looked up at his face and felt her breath leave her lungs.
Her father, Henry Knight, stood in front of her. He resembled her brother in many ways. The same strong jawline and athletic figure. But time and experience had weathered his skin, grayed his hair, and given him a permanent frown. His broad shoulders were always held high with a stiff spine, his dark brown eyes quick to narrow at a target.
“I see that modeling stint in Paris did nothing for your grace,” he said sternly, finally looking up at her. Rachel opened her mouth
to speak, but couldn’t get a word out. He frowned and sucked in his cheeks. “I suppose you’ve given up on the whole modeling thing?”
She felt her cheeks grow pink. The last thing she needed was a lecture from her father.
“Yes, the modeling thing is over, Dad,” she said angrily. “Sometimes, no matter how long you work at it, the money runs out and you fail. It’s a fact of life for normal people.”
If only she was back in Paris now, having coffee with friends or auditioning for another shoot. If only she didn’t have this gaping hole in her chest.
“No, you never did like to devote yourself to any one task,” he said matter-of-factly. “That’ll never get you anywhere in life, Rachel.”
She wasn’t going to sit around for another lecture. Not when she had better things to do — like cry into her ice cream.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she said, trying to push past him, “I’ve got somewhere to be.”
“Like the job you just quit?” He cleared his throat and stepped in her way. “I heard your little outburst in the ballroom. I’m certain everyone within a hundred miles heard.”
She recoiled from his words and ground her teeth together. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, yes, I do. You lost your head over a boy and lost focus. Typical Rachel behavior.” He flared his nostrils with a deep inhale. “I thought I taught you better. Emotion is a handicap. Divorce yourself from it and maybe you’ll finally find success, instead of flitting from hobby to hobby and never settling down.”
“Emotion is a handicap?” She spat the words out as a sour taste filled her mouth. “Are you kidding me, Dad? Because of your little philosophy, your children grew up emotionally stunted. It’s a miracle Michael ever found love. And it’ll be a miracle if I ever find someone as well. Tell me, did you even love us?”
The Billionaire and the Waitress Page 7
