Break (Billionaire New Adult Romance)

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Break (Billionaire New Adult Romance) Page 4

by Vanessa Waltz


  I dropped my gaze and let go of him. My hand trembled as it returned to my side and I felt like one of those Twihards shrieking at Robert Pattinson. What was wrong with me? I walked in front of Luke and followed the hostess as she brought us to the back, to the room separated by a wall of glass. It was meant for larger parties, but Luke probably paid to reserve it. Of course he did. He had piles of money.

  Luke pulled out my chair with one hand like a perfect gentleman and I sat down, inhaling something that must have been cedar cologne. The scent disappeared as he swept around the table, but it left me intoxicated and I blinked at him as though I were slightly drunk. He was so handsome that I couldn’t bear looking at him longer than a few seconds. Would he be able to detect how hard I was crushing on him? He looked more like a male model than a businessman. His dark hair fell into his eyes with a casual elegance that few men could achieve. He smiled at me and my cheeks burned violently.

  “Would you like anything to drink, ma’am?”

  God, yes.

  She slid a drink menu under my hands and I snapped my attention towards it. I didn’t recognize any of these wines. The only wines I knew were of the Charles Shaw variety that sold for five bucks a pop at Trader Joe’s.

  “Just get me a dry red. Something you think is good.”

  She nodded. “Would you like another glass, Mr. Pardini?”

  “Yes, please.”

  His voice stroked me. It was very deep and calming. When the hostess left, there was no reason to avoid looking at the remarkable specimen sitting in front of me. When I met his gaze, he smiled again and warmth flooded my chest. Pardini. A small explosion took place in the pit of my stomach.

  “I know you!” I blurted. “You were on ET the other night.” The moment the words left my mouth, I wanted to smack myself. You did not just say that.

  The smile on his face faltered. He pinched the bridge of his nose and uttered a small groan. “Yes, I’m sure I was.”

  So it really was him. The rich playboy with daddy issues used an online dating website. None of this made sense.

  The waitress returned to set the wine glass next to me. I watched her fill the glass impatiently and I took an unnecessarily large gulp as she poured him more wine. I couldn’t look away from him. I was fascinated by him—and my strong feelings towards him.

  “I apologize for all the secrecy, but unfortunately it was necessary.” He reached inside his suit jacket that looked like it cost more than my car and pulled out several papers and a pen. He set them down and slid the pile towards me face up.

  Oh, right. The non-disclosure agreement. In the email, he outlined the expectation for me to sign it “upon arrival.” I pulled it towards me and signed it. The penalty for violating the agreement was a whopping three million dollars. No article writing for me, then. I slid the papers back towards him and he folded them back into his jacket, looking slightly relieved.

  He looked at me shrewdly. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

  “No, I haven’t. Have you?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve interviewed several candidates but I found none of them suitable.”

  Candidates. What a strange word. “What is it exactly that you want me to do?”

  The mysterious smile reappeared. “I don’t want to get into that today. I just want to get to know you.”

  My face grew hot, made worse with the wine. I was aware that he could see how uncomfortable I was. He was gorgeous and I was a nobody. I didn’t get it. “What I don’t understand is why you think you need a paid arrangement.”

  No, stupid! Don’t say that. Just shut up and take his money!

  He took another sip of wine and I heard the liquid hiss through his teeth. Then he looked at me. “I know what I want, and I have very little time. This is just the easiest way for me.”

  A small shiver went through my body. Why would he want me? But he did all the same and it was overwhelming.

  “So, tell me about yourself, Jessica.”

  Now, I felt like I was in an interview. “Well, I graduated last year with a Bachelor’s in English and I really want an editing position at a magazine somewhere. I’ve been trying to get one for a year, but all I could find were unpaid internships. I signed up for this because I need an income to pay for my expenses.” I shrugged. “I think that I’m a pretty honest, reliable person. I could leave references for you, if you want. To be honest, I really need the money.” It was embarrassing to admit it.

  Suddenly, the room was filled with the smell of freshly baked pizza. I snapped my head around and saw the rather perfect sight of the waitress bearing a steaming pizza. She set it down over a metal stand in the middle of the table. It was a cheerful, vivid red with slightly burnt edges, no doubt cooked in a wood-burning oven. Little specks of green dotted the sauce and I smelled the basil from the rising, swirling steam. I had a reaction that could only be described as Pavlovian.

  “The pizza here is the best in the Bay Area. It’s almost like eating pizza in Rome.”

  I didn’t care where it was from, as long as I got to eat it. “I can’t wait to try it.”

  He smiled politely as he cut a slice for me and slid the plate in front of me. Perhaps he was used to the type of girls who only ordered salads when they went out.

  “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  Flustered, I glanced at his face and saw that he was serious. “No, ‘course not. I’ve never really—” I stopped myself. I almost told him that I’d never had one. “I’ve never really had much time for boyfriends.” My hand trembled as I took another sip of wine.

  I watched him eat the pizza with a knife and fork, feeling suddenly barbaric as I picked up my slice with my hands. “Do you live in the city?”

  He gave me an uncertain nod. “I have a house, but I’m rarely home.”

  He probably had places all over the world. I finally bit into the pizza and moaned as the acidic taste of the tomatoes exploded over the perfectly baked crust, slightly blackened from the wood fire oven. “Oh my God!” I moaned elegantly through my mouthful of pizza. “This is—this is incredible!”

  Luke seemed to choke on his pizza as he looked at me and laughed. It was different from all of his polite, almost mechanical smiles. The corners of his eyes creased and he covered his mouth with his hand.

  Was he mocking me? No, there was kindness in his eyes—not cruelty. I returned his smile and laughed in spite of myself. “I’m actually kind of psycho about food. I volunteer at a soup kitchen every week and I organize the recipes.” Perhaps the wine made me so talkative, but I was flattered by Luke’s interest and the way he leaned in so he could hear me talk. I kept forgetting that this was an interview.

  “Every week, really? What for?”

  He sounded suspicious. Of course he was. He made me sign a NDA, for God’s sake. I gave him a half shrug. I didn’t exactly want to go into detail. “It started as a community service thing I wanted to do for my resume, but I found myself really enjoying it.” A frown crossed my face. “Well, until yesterday.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I mentally slapped myself again. He doesn’t need to know every damn detail of your private life! I waved my hand. “It’s not a big deal, but my car got broken into while I was volunteering and my GPS was stolen.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Yeah, it kind of sucks.”

  We lapsed into silence as we finished the pizza. I devoured three more slices, savoring each bite. Does he eat like this all the time? Why wouldn’t he? After many sips from the equally delicious wine, I felt myself slip into a warm, happy stupor.

  “So where did you grow up?”

  I snapped to attention. “Hm? Oh—well I moved around a lot as a kid. First I lived in Richmond, then Fremont, Oakland, Antioch.” We were wading in dangerous waters. “How about yourself?”

  His face tightened. “Chicago. Well, I was there until my mother passed.” He shrugged. “Then my father sent me overseas to a boarding sch
ool in London.”

  God, so he really went to a boarding school. Years of lying in bed while reading Harry Potter and fantasizing about what it would be like to live in a castle full of children made me burn with jealousy. “What was it like there?” I said in an awed voice. “Were there houses?”

  He tilted his head and a slow smile spread across his face. “You mean like Gryffindor and Ravenclaw?”

  I laughed and took another sip of wine, trying to hide my embarrassment.

  “No, I’m afraid not. They’re not all they’re cracked up to be.”

  I sank in my chair, my bubble of excitement bursting. “Are you kidding me?”

  “The environment could be stifling. You’re in this studious environment from sunup to sundown. I was homesick a lot. It was lonely. At first, it was fun, but after a while you miss your mom and dad.”

  It was sad to hear that. Luke stared at some point over my shoulder, his eyes echoing with the loss of his mother and the pain of being sent away after her death. I couldn’t imagine what that must have felt like. I wanted to erase that unhappy look on his face.

  “You’re ruining my fantasy!”

  He laughed and shrugged apologetically. Luke looked at me intently, as if he was making his mind about something. His fingers drummed on the table and he reached inside his jacket.

  “I just need to ask you to fill out one more thing. You have to understand that I don’t trust very easily, and I’m going to need you to complete this form so I can do a background check.”

  I shrugged. “No problem.” I had nothing to hide, right? It wasn’t any different from applying to a job. I took the form and filled everything out, which included my address, phone number and social security number. A voice inside me said that it was a lot of private information to give to a complete stranger. Then Luke slid over the two thousand dollar check already written in my name and I took it shamefacedly. I don’t know why, but I felt guilty taking it. I had such a nice time with him.

  I returned the form to him, sensing that the meeting was over as he glanced at his watch.

  “Well, shall we?”

  I took one last sip of wine and stood up as he threw cash on the table. We walked through the bustling restaurant. The hostess reached into the closet to retrieve my sad, synthetic wool coat and I watched as Luke shrugged on his. I noticed his patent leather Italian shoes and felt so cheap by comparison. I was an impostor, a Cinderella, but with his hand on the small of my back, I didn’t feel like one.

  The glass doors swung outward and the chilly air struck my bones. Luke walked beside me with his hands deep inside his pockets.

  “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  I cringed as I stopped and turned to face him. “I—actually I took the BART and MUNI to get here.”

  The cold stung his cheeks with pink. “Oh. Why’s that?”

  I tried to look somewhere behind his head, anything to avoid meeting his gaze. “Well, like I said, my car was broken into and it needed to be fixed.”

  His voice was flat. “But repairing a windshield only takes an hour.” He wasn’t getting it.

  I bit my lip as tears suddenly welled in my eyes. Don’t cry, you idiot. I balled my hands into fists until my fingernails bit painfully into my flesh. “Yes, well, I couldn’t afford it. So they kept my car.” I couldn’t quite keep the pain out of my voice.

  None of us said anything for a while. No doubt, he was looking for some sort of phrase, some appropriate response for this situation that he had been taught in his gentlemen classes at his overseas boarding school.

  “I’ll call a town car.”

  I whirled around as I saw his thumb moving rapidly over his cell phone. I swallowed the lump in my throat painfully. “No, really. It’s okay. I’m fine with taking the BART; I do it all the time. It’s no big deal.” For some reason, the pressure behind my eyes doubled. I didn’t want him feeling sorry for me.

  “Neither is calling a town car.”

  I wanted to argue, but his hand reached out and touched my shoulder, squeezing it slightly.

  He wore a nonchalant smile on his face, as if he hadn’t noticed the tears welling in my eyes, but of course he had and was just trying to make me feel better.

  “Okay.”

  A few minutes later, a sleek black Mercedes rolled next to the curb. I revolved on the spot with a heavy feeling in my stomach. Well, that’s it.

  “Thank you so much for everything, Luke.”

  He nodded. “I’ll contact you in a few days if all is well.”

  Suddenly, he swept down and planted a swift kiss on my cheek. The spot burned like a hot poker and the faint smell of his shampoo drifted inside my nose. I could still feel the imprint of his lips on my face.

  The kiss surprised me so much that I forgot to say goodbye. I let out an embarrassing giggle and ducked into the security of the smooth, leather car interior. Luke leaned down near the passenger’s side to exchange words and a handful of cash with the driver.

  Feeling oddly light, I laid my hand across my cheek where he kissed me for a long time, marveling at how something so brief could feel so good.

  I still felt like I stumbled into some kind of fairytale when the car dropped me at my house. Maybe a fairytale wasn’t accurate. It was like a bizarre dream. In what world did a gorgeous billionaire pay women to date him when he could literally have any woman he wanted?

  I stepped out before the driver could open my door and gave him an awkward wave. Whoops.

  He gave me a cursory look and sped away when I stepped on the sidewalk. I shrugged as I watched the town car blast down the street. I struggled opening my door for several minutes until I finally realized I used the wrong key. Finally, I pushed it open and strode inside.

  The back of Natalie’s head was against the couch. She whirled around as soon as I entered and stood up, looking apprehensive.

  “Jess, look, I’m really sorry for what I said.”

  Seeing her looking so tired in her pajamas stirred my guilt. She waited for me all night, and probably wondered if my face would appear on the evening news.

  I was too tired to argue. “It’s fine.”

  Her hands fidgeted. “You didn’t text me.”

  “Ah, sorry. I forgot,” I said as I hung my coat in the closet.

  “Well, how was it?”

  I clung to the wall and a huge grin spread across my face. “I think I’m in love!” I yelled to the room.

  She grinned. “Seriously, what was he like?”

  “He’s young and gorgeous. And nice and—” I shivered at the mere memory of him. “I don’t really know what he’s like, but he is hot. He looks like Ian Somerhalder!”

  Her eyebrows were somewhere in her hair. “Wow. Well, what does he want from you?”

  “I don’t know yet,” I said lightly. “I can pay you back now, at least. And I can get my car.” I slid my feet out of the heels and bounced across the room, brimming with happiness.

  “I’ve never seen you like this.” Natalie’s voice was flat. “Am I dreaming?”

  I shrugged and backed into my room, laughing at her stunned face. “I’m going to bed. ‘Night!”

  I set my purse on the bed and set the two thousand dollar check on my nightstand, feeling myself deflate once again. Don’t get attached to him. He could potentially become my boss, but he’d never be my boyfriend.

  Still, it was nice to dream.

  Chapter 4

  The following morning, I headed straight for the bank to deposit my check, and then took a bus to the repair shop where my car was. Looking Randy straight in the eye as he swiped my credit card, I breathed a sigh of relief as the charge went through.

  After driving home and paying Natalie the two months’ rent I owed, my bank account contained a paltry $432.50. Luke’s money helped tremendously, but I still needed more—and fast.

  Without receiving a single reply to the job applications sent out days ago, I asked for applications at every retail store on the way home. Ev
en McDonalds wasn’t hiring.

  My stomach roared with hunger as I stood in the kitchen. Debating whether or not to buy food at the grocery store, I dug through my cupboard and found a battered packet of ramen. Score. I inhaled the tantalizing smell of the dry noodles and the spice packet as I ripped open the plastic, poured the noodles into a water filled bowl, shoved it in the microwave, then blasted it.

  I practically grew up on Top Ramen. I remember many school lunches where I would rip open the plastic, dump the spice onto the dry noodles, clench the package in my fist to break them into tiny rings, and then shake it to distribute the seasoning. My fingers coated with MSG dust, I ate the whole bag of uncooked noodles.

  At least microwaving was a step above eating it raw.

  Carefully maneuvering the piping hot bowl to the kitchen table, I proceeded to gulp down my pitiful supper.

  The front door opened. “Hey,” Natalie called out.

  Feeling that twist of anxiety that took up residency inside my stomach, l looked up. “Hi. I have a check for you on the table.”

  She put her messenger bag down with a weary shrug of her shoulders and hung her coat inside the closet. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean the billionaire paid me two grand last night just for showing up. So I can pay you back.” I slid the check closer to her. I need to stop calling him ‘the billionaire.’

  A slight frown on her lips, she took the check in her hands and peered at it closely. Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Jess, I still don’t think this is a good idea.”

  I knew this was coming the moment she walked inside, and her steely look strongly indicated she meant business. “I don’t even know what he wants from me yet. If he sets up another meeting, I’ll find out.”

  “I’m also worried about you getting hurt. Last night, you were talking about him as if he was your date.”

  My fork stabbed at the ramen in my bowl. “I know,” I said a little defensively. “He’s just not what I expected at all.”

  No, he wasn’t. My cheeks still burned as I thought about his soft kiss goodbye. He could still be an asshole. I didn’t know him at all, but it was hard not to be intrigued by a man planted so firmly in the spotlight.

 

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