Sold To The Billionaire: Bad Boy Romance

by Amy Faye

  Hell, she'd built her own prison and then insisted to herself that she stay in it. The idea that it might have made her feel even worse wasn't exactly a foreign concept. It wasn't just likely, it was certain. And yet, she'd still picked a fight.

  She padded barefoot down the stairs, still in her pajamas. The sound of the television from the den drew her attention over that way. The room was dark except for the television, which illuminated the silhouette of a husband-shaped man. Sarah knocked on the door-frame.

  "Dan?"

  "You feeling better, babe?"

  "Yeah, I guess I was just a little upset."

  He didn't turn away from the television; it had a commercial of a no-nonsense looking woman announcing that she'd just finished cleaning the house and she wasn't going to have any back-talk about keeping it clean.

  He rose and turned, clicking the remote to turn the screen off almost as an afterthought.

  "You hungry?"

  "I could eat." She hadn't been hungry since breakfast, and that was almost twelve hours ago. She felt like she was never going to be hungry again, because that was an emotion that came from a totally different place than the fear that was eating at her gut. But she needed to eat.

  "You want to take the girls, or you want me to call someone?"

  She closed her eyes and tried not to think too hard about the answer. The truth was that she hated going out without them. But there was also the fact that they weren't Dan's children, and that had to be a topic worth discussing for someone, another way that they could get at her husband through her.

  "I want you to tell me what you want."

  "I don't want to wake them up, if it'll be a problem."

  "If they don't get up soon, they're not going to sleep at all tonight, so it's probably better that we give them a problem now, than they give us a problem later."

  'Us' really meant 'me,' Sarah thought, only halfway bitter. They were her girls, after all. Dan was the primary breadwinner, in reality the only breadwinner, since her classes weren't even in session at this point, and besides she didn't make enough money to register on his scales.

  Before she'd met Dan, before she'd gotten married, she was the only one around to have a problem with the crying. Well, her and Aunt Pat, who could sleep through a hurricane and wake up to wonder why everything had gotten all wet.

  Dan started moving without speaking, then. "Then if it's no problem, of course they're coming.'

  She followed along behind. She felt tired in her heart. Her body was as rested as could be, but her thoughts came slow. Everything came slow. She wanted absolutely nothing more than to curl up into a little ball and sleep, but it wasn't going to come, and she knew because she'd already tried that.

  "How was work," Sarah asked his retreating back. There was a long moment before he answered, as the two of them ascended the stairs, slowly and carefully and it wasn't impossible to believe that they were doing it that way because Dan was worried about her falling down.

  "It was fine," he said finally. "Nothing to write home about, I guess."

  They dressed the girls quickly; Allison took up her usual role as the fussy one, the one who didn't want to get dressed, the one who didn't want to be picked up, the one who especially didn't want to be set back down again.

  Chelsea, on the other hand, played along nicely, a big smile on her face. A goofy grin.

  "Did you think about what you wanted to eat?"

  Sarah looked at Dan like a deer in the headlights, and blinked, Chelsea's hat pulled halfway onto her head.

  "Was I supposed to do that?" The words played back in her head, as if it were on some kind of automatic track. "I guess I was. I don't know."

  He shrugged. "No big deal. I can figure something out myself. You like Mexican?"

  "Sure," she said. The truth was that she'd only had it sparingly up til now, but she wasn't about to go around advertising that she knew next to nothing about something that should have been basic as can be. Heck, she'd been to Mexican town plenty of times. It just wasn't something that she'd eaten a lot of, but it was going to make her look terribly provincial to admit.

  "Great, I know a nice little place. You'll love it."

  She smiled at that. It wasn't genuine, and she had to plaster it onto her face with a force of will. But she did manage it, eventually, and that was the best she could do at the moment. If that was the best she could do, then she wasn't going to freak out about, she told herself. There was no reason that she should.

  At least, she hoped there wasn't. Because Sarah was the furthest thing from certain that she could handle any more surprises.

  24

  There was a part of Dan Bryant that was seriously contemplating homicide. It was admittedly a small part, and he wasn't going to do it because he knew better, if not because he was smart enough to get away scot-free. Dan knew he was smart without needing to dwell on it, but that was a very different question from being able to murder anyone. Never mind, of course, that whoever had come by was only doing their job.

  As a policy position, Dan was past tired of reporters who refused to report the news. As a personal position, it was largely the same. The fact that this time, the news that they chose to report happened to be his wife, only gave momentary pause.

  There would be plenty of time to put out a response, if a response was needed. He told himself that part three times over just in case it didn't get through the first time; it rarely ever did, with Dan. He was smart, but like a dog, too smart meant too stubborn, to boot.

  They drove in silence, arrived at the restaurant in silence. The girls in the back seemed to have slipped back into quiet repose; somewhere, he'd heard that babies liked to sleep in the car. Maybe it had something to do with the gentle rocking, he didn't know.

  "We're here," he announced quietly. He waited while she decided whether or not she was pleased; regardless of what she eventually decided, Sarah pushed the door open and stepped out into the warm night air.

  Dan worked the buckles on the car-seat to retrieve Allison, who looked up at him in a daze and smiled. He smiled back at her, almost in spite of himself. The girls were a surprise addition to the plan, a last minute change, when he never made last minute changes.

  Looking down at her as she smiled at him, he thought about how it could go wrong. The list had to be immensely long; there was a good reason that most people in his position had few children, not that he could think of what it was.

  The thought lasted only a moment before he shrugged and abandoned it. There might have been a good reason, but he wasn't interested in hearing it. He was interested in the little girl in his arms. She smiled at him, he smiled at her, and then she spit up on his jacket, which would leave a light-colored stain no matter what he tried to do to get rid of it. He looked down at it, an instant's frustration building up.

  It released a moment later. There was plenty to get upset over in a given day, if he really wanted to. There was no reason to lose it now, when he was mostly in control of himself. It would only be a matter of time before he totally lost his mind, if a little thing like that was going to make such a big difference.

  Instead, he reached back into the car, pulled out a hand-towel and wiped his shoulder off. It was hardly even visible, thank God. It might stain, but only just. Nobody would even notice, and the minute that he explained the source of the stain, it would be the end of it.

  He smiled to himself. There were questions to worry about; lots of them, if he was being honest. But he could avoid them for a good long while, if he tried.

  "You coming?"

  Sarah had Chelsea balanced on her hip and her eyebrows raised in a show of mild annoyance.

  "Sure," he said. Then he balanced the girl on his hip and stepped inside, through the door. The place was small-ish, which was how he liked it. Cozy. There was no reason to go someplace that seated four hundred or some crazy number. It just made it harder to get in touch with your waiter, as far as Dan was concerned.

  There
was a wait, which Dan expected. He smiled as they told him it would be thirty minutes, and briefly considered trying to tip the guy to get things done a little faster. But then, there was no real reason to. He had time.

  "Thirty-forty minutes," he said as he settled onto a bench beside Sarah. She shrugged. "That's fine."

  "You're not starving or anything?"

  "No," she said. If anything she looked tired, her eyes expressionless as they hung on the opposite wall. "I'm just ready for bed, at this point, but I haven't eaten since breakfast."

  "You must be hungry, then."

  "No."

  Dan bounced the baby on his knee, and she giggled a little, then as suddenly as flipping a light switch she decided that she didn't like it any more. He shifted her back up into his arms, but Sarah was reaching with her free arm to take the other girl, and he wasn't about to argue.

  He had the little girl halfway to her mother when his phone rang. He noted the ringing in the back of his mind, but he wasn't in a position to answer it. Insistent, it buzzed again in his pocket, and then Sarah had Allison's weight and was shifting her to hold her opposite her sister.

  "I've got a call, you mind if I..."

  Sarah looked up at him and shrugged slightly.

  "Thanks, babe."

  He lifted his weight up off the bench and swiped at the green circle to answer, put the phone to his ear, and stepped out into the night air.

  "What's up? I'm at dinner."

  "Hey, where are you?"

  "Uh, why?"

  "I have a client looking to come talk to you."

  "Can't it wait until tomorrow? I'd really rather relax."

  "They said they don't want to wait."

  He let out a long breath. "Okay, then. Is this someone we can just blow off?"

  Jane didn't respond for a long moment and he prepared to get annoyed with her for calling him, regardless of the answer she came back with. He was working all damn day. It had been a good day, he'd have gladly taken on a new client. But whoever it was needed him now that he was trying to celebrate? Great.

  "I'd really rather wait, you know."

  "I mean, we can do what we have to do. You know that. But the guy's offering a big, big check for a design consult, and he says he just wants to sit down for drinks and hash things out."

  "And it has to be tonight?"

  "He'll be out of town tomorrow morning."

  Dan cursed. "I have to ask Sarah what she thinks."

  "Why? I thought it was, I dunno, a trophy wife thing. Or something. Or am I not understanding?"

  No, you're understanding, Dan said. It was reality that was fucking up with the plan, rather than her failing to understand. "Uh. Shit. I guess we can make something work. Tell him that I'm with my wife, so he's going to have to meet us."

  "I know it's short notice; if he's not going to be understanding about it, then, I mean, fuck him, right?"

  "Oh, Jane. A woman after my own heart. I'm at Xochimilco. Give him my cell number and have him shoot me a text when he's close."

  "You got it. Good night, and sorry about this again."

  He closed his eyes, letting the frustration leak onto his face in the hopes that by letting it out now, he could try to avoid letting it loose on Sarah when he got back inside.

  "Yeah."

  "See you tomorrow."

  "Tomorrow," he agreed. Then she hung up, and he did the same. There was going to have to be a really good explanation for this, after he'd been the one to suggest going out. Particularly after her little blow up about his hours. He pulled the door open and stepped back inside.

  "What did work want?"

  Sarah looked like she wasn't mad, which was a surprise. He'd expected some annoyance. Then again, she wasn't to the annoying bit, yet. It might be a little more time.

  "Oh, uh. That was Jane."

  "She working late?"

  "She's always working late," Dan said, "But at least she works from home most of the time, so I guess that's a small blessing in her favor."

  "You've got an office, you know. You could work from home if you wanted to."

  "I know I could," Dan said, uncertainly. "I just don't like to. Makes me feel weird not to have a proper workplace. Don't get as much work done from home."

  "So what was Jane calling for? I feel like that's unusual."

  "It is," Dan said. "Don't get mad, okay?"

  Sarah cocked an eyebrow. "I'll see what I can do."

  "She wanted to know if I could have a few drinks with a prospective client. Big check for a little design consult."

  "So, what's that supposed to mean?"

  "Means we're seating a table of five, I guess," he said, already bracing for the reaction. Already reconsidering the whole decision. Then the phone in his pocket buzzed, a single short burst. A text message. He knew what it would say without needing to look.

  25

  The look on her husband's face told Sarah everything she needed to know about how he was feeling about everything, and it was a big part of why she was so willing to allow it.

  There were limits to what she was going to allow, or at least, limits to what she was going to be happy about. Having people show up completely unannounced was going to be a sticking point, no matter who it was. But he seemed just as displeased by the idea as she was, and that was why she wasn't going to start a fight. Even though she wanted to; oh, lord, she sorely wanted to.

  She hefted the babies on her arms and smiled at him and said what she hoped were all the right words.

  "Okay, well, I hope he doesn't mind the girls, then."

  The relief on Dan's face wasn't just visible; it was practically palpable. Sarah enjoyed the idea that she'd avoided causing trouble for a moment. Maybe she should cause some trouble, a voice told her. Maybe it would help. But she knew better; it never helped. It could make things worse, but it couldn't possibly help.

  "I think that's him. I told Jane where we were, had her send him over. He's got my number, and he's supposed to text me when he's close. I'll go talk to the desk guy, okay?"

  She watched Dan go. There was no desk 'guy,' of course; the woman at the desk was petite and feminine and in no way a 'guy.' But that was just splitting hairs, at this point. She nodded as Dan spoke, too quiet to hear over the low din of everyone talking at once, in their own private conversations.

  Sarah ignored them with the same fervor that she always tried to resist eavesdropping. It was all sorts of a good time, eavesdropping. You got all the best gossip when people thought that they were being quiet.

  That being said, she had at least the vaguest suggestion of manners, and it was rude to listen in on other people's conversations. She had to put on her best manners, if there was going to be a business meeting of any kind whatsoever.

  Dan came back with a grin on his face. "Good news, babe."

  "Oh yeah?"

  "This way," he said, and turned. The woman behind the little podium smiled and held up menus. Then she rose and followed Dan, who followed the woman, and they went deeper in, and Sarah took a better look around as they walked.

  On the north side, a bar covered the better part of the wall, with a sign proclaiming that they had daily happy hour. She ignored it; there was no way she could get drunk, with the girls feeding, and besides, she wasn't planning on coming back. They settled into a large, round table, seating for six. One extra, she supposed.

  The lady came back a second later with brown plastic high-chairs. Sarah handed off Chelsea to Dan, who held her as Sarah got Allison seated and buckled in, and pushed up to the table, and then did the same on the other side.

  "Anything to drink while you wait for the rest of your party?" The woman waited with her eyes on Dan's face, as if she were especially interested in the response. Sarah guessed that he'd paid her a little money surreptitiously, and that he was going to get the good service.

  "Waters, for now. Thank you."

  The woman smiled and nodded, and then walked away to do whatever it was that she wa
s going to do. Make the magic of the restaurant happen.

  A large, dark-skinned Latina woman walked up, her hair tied back in a tight bun, with a smile on her face, only a minute or two later. "Hola, how are you doing today? What about you two sweethearts?"

  Sarah looked up, but it was Dan who spoke. "Great. We're waiting for a fifth, though, so just the waters until then."

  "Great. I'll get those right away."

  She disappeared, her hips moving quickly left to right as she walked, surprisingly light on her feet for a woman her size. They waited another few minutes; Dan texted to tell the guy where they were seated. Far corner, away from the bar, away from the front door.

  Sarah watched the corner of the room, her back to everything else, and when the water glasses came a few minutes later she drank deeply from them. She hadn't realized that she was thirsty, but now that the water was here, she realized that she'd been missing out on it.

  Dan reached for his phone reflexively, and pulled it out.

  "I'm here," he read aloud. Then he stood up, clearly looking for something. Sarah turned, but the room was crowded, and from her seat it was hard to see much of anything. Just a whole bunch of people.

  She turned back to Dan and saw the expression on his face, and turned again. Someone was stepping lightly through the tables, a Tigers ball-cap pulled low on his head, but she recognized him immediately. Her stomach plunged into a cold stupor.

  Cole had a jacket on, which was unusual for him, and he had a surly expression on his face. The sway in his shoulders was unmistakable drunkenness.

  "Hey," he said. "Glad you could both make it."

  He looked hard at her, first, and Sarah shivered. From behind her, Dan's voice answered. "You ought to go home, now, Cole."

  "Why's that? You got a problem with me being here?"

  "For one thing, you're drunk."

  "Who says? You? Go fuck yourself."

  Sarah could hear the annoyance in his voice. The fight. She could see it on his face, before it had even begun.

  "How did you find us?"

  "Your, uh. Secretary?"

  Sarah managed to keep from correcting him automatically. Jane was the furthest thing from a secretary, not that she didn't do that, too. She knew it would just set Dan off to call her that, but then again, from the way that their last interactions had all gone, she guessed that Dan was already set off.