Nanny For Hire - A Steamy Single-Dad Billionaire Romance
Page 23
“Craziest yet. I’m gonna kill him. I am going to kill him.”
I turned on the radio to blast the night’s events out of my brain. A crooning woman asked where all the good boys have gone, and I snorted a humorless laugh.
“Boys? How about girls? Where the heck are they, Ms. Radio Star?”
Shelley’s wholesomely beautiful face flitted through my mind again. On a wild impulse, I turned the car around and hit the gas. I didn’t know where they were now, but I did know where one used to be. If I was very, very lucky, she might still be there.
Finnegan’s hadn’t changed a bit in the last two years; at least, not from the outside. Inside, it had received a full remodel. I didn’t see any familiar faces as I walked through the new emerald-green decor, and for the first time in years, I felt exceptionally awkward.
“What can I get for you?” the brusque bartender asked as I approached.
“Um…some information, if you can. I’m looking for a girl.”
“We all are, bro. Got a type in mind?”
“Her name’s Shelley, Shelley Smith. Gorgeous girl, strawberry-blond, green eyes, about this tall? She used to work here.”
The man shook his head. “Not since I’ve been here. You sure you got the right bar?”
“Yes,” I sighed. “How long have you worked here?”
“’Bout two years now. The owner bailed after some kind of scandal; new managers hired all new staff, pretty much. I don’t remember the details; I got everything second-hand anyway.”
“Where is Mr. Finnegan now?”
“Moved to…Tijuana, I think?”
I cursed under my breath, then thanked the guy. As I glanced helplessly around the altered bar, I noticed Jeff, the old janitor, sweeping cigarette butts off of the floor by the door as inconspicuously as possible. He wasn’t easy to notice, but he never intended to be.
“Hey, Jeff.”
“Hey, look who it is! Mr. Bigshot with the all models on his arms. How you been, Miles?”
I shook Jeffrey’s calloused hand, smiling at the recently unfamiliar familiarity.
“Doing pretty good. Yourself?”
“Just workin’, man, same as always.”
“Hey, do you remember Shelley Smith?”
“Do I remember? How could I forget? Those legs, that hair! That figure, know what I’m saying? Yeah, I remember.”
“What happened to her?”
He shrugged, leaning on his broom. “Don’t know, man. She quit about, I don’t know…a month after you did? Maybe a little longer. Before winter, though.”
“And you don’t know where she went?”
“Nah, man. She was real quiet those last few weeks. Cryin’ and stuff. I told her I’d break the face of anybody who broke her heart, but she wouldn’t tell me anything. I don’t know, guess she just got tired of this place.”
“Guess so. Well, thanks anyway, Jeff. Don’t work too hard.”
“Never do,” he said with a laugh. “Don’t make too much money!”
“No such thing,” I said, because he expected me to.
I was beginning to wonder, though. What was the point of having all this money if only the most vapid, materialistic women wanted anything to do with me?
On the long ride home, I replayed every moment of my one, mind-blowing night with Shelley in my head. She’d been the most thrilling, complete, enticing, perfect woman I had ever been with. I suddenly couldn’t remember why I hadn’t pursued her back then.
“Probably better that I didn’t,” I told myself to sooth the empty ache in my core. “Nathan’s right; it’s not like I have time for a full-time relationship right now, anyway. Better to forget her.”
I tried, earnestly and with full intention. But no matter what I did, she remained, flitting around the corners of my mind, peering out me from every pair of green eyes I happened to see.
After two years of heartbreak and separation, Miles and Shelley are soon to find out that they have a lot of catching up to do!
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