The Billionaires: The Bosses

by Calista Fox

  Lily might be a more complex situation to manage than usual, though. Christian would typically ease into the “breakup” scenario, not just drop the axe, even when it wasn’t actually a breakup since there’d never been the insinuation of a relationship on his part. He wasn’t good with relationships that didn’t involve Rory. And those never had a long-running shelf life because it was difficult to find a woman who could hold both their attention for any serious duration.

  With Lily, Christian had made the mistake of dipping his quill in the company ink. He didn’t want to lose her as an assistant. She’d been with him for nearly six years. Knew all the ins and outs of his and Rory’s enterprise, knew all of Christian’s professional and personal preferences, right down to ensuring that when he was on the road, a fresh pot of gourmet coffee and a continental breakfast arrived on his hotel room doorstep at precisely 6:45 without a single knock on the door.

  She was an asset. Just not girlfriend material. Not for him.

  Christian didn’t know if Lily understood that or not—they’d never had a heart-to-heart. She’d followed his lead, and while she’d dropped hints that she thought she was the only one he was sleeping with, he’d never confirmed that as fact. Had never really thought he’d had to because, in all honesty, they spent such little time together outside of the office that it seemed a bit inconceivable for her to think they were more than convenient sexual companions.

  But that really was neither here nor there at the moment. He was ready to move forward with his plans now that he had a contract to take one more look at before it went to Bayli for her signature.

  Lily asked in a provocative voice, “Is there anything else I can do for you, boss?”

  He recognized the suggestive tone for what it was. Gently said, “Thanks, but no. I need to wrap all of this up.” He indicated the files spread before him.

  “You’re usually not so secretive.”

  He didn’t miss her disappointment that he wasn’t relying on her for all of the administrative detail related to this new quest. Christian told her, “I’m still working through all the nuances. Why don’t you go back to the office? I’m keeping you from your other responsibilities. If something crops up, I’ll give you a call. Otherwise, expect me back in the office tomorrow.”

  She stared at him a few moments, likely trying to read his thoughts. Then shrugged and said, “Okay. Just give a holler.”

  Lily put extra sway in her hips as she sashayed out. Christian chuckled under his breath. She wasn’t exactly the type to give up. Nor was she the type to be denied. By most men. But Christian had another woman on his mind.

  He unclasped the envelope Lily had delivered just as Rory sank into the chair she’d vacated.

  “We have a small problem,” Rory announced. “And by small, I mean huge.”

  Eyeing him over the top of the package, Christian asked, “What the fuck happened with Bayli yesterday?”

  “Funny how you just immediately knew that I screwed everything up.”

  “Well, it does seem to be the pattern between the two of you.” Christian let out a long hiss of breath as he set aside the contract. “And that’s really the only facet of your life involving me that I don’t have some control over, so … Easy deduction, Watson.”

  “Wait.” Rory stood, flipped his chair around, and straddled it. “Why do you get to be Sherlock?”

  “Because I’m smarter than you.”

  “Well, we all fucking know that,” he scoffed. “Though not by much. I graduated with … some … honors.”

  “I graduated with all honors. And who the hell cares?” He speared his friend with a hard look. “What did you do?”

  “I’m not exactly sure,” Rory confessed. “I mean, you and I agreed I needed to spend more time with Bayli in order to find a groove that’ll work for the show. So I surprised her at the library—that was a bit of a disaster, not that anyone is shocked by this. Then we went to the farmers’ market and things were going well. Really well.”

  Christian’s gaze narrowed. “How well?”

  “I kissed her.”

  “You … what?” His mind reeled.

  “Kissed her.”

  “In front of…?”

  “Everyone.”

  “Oh, goddamn it.” Christian whipped out his iPhone and searched for Rory St. James on Google, and lo and behold, there was a video already posted on YouTube of his friend and … Bayli.

  Christian tossed the phone on the table and it skidded to a halt before Rory. “Nice going. She’s supposed to be our secret weapon. You know, we spring her on the unsuspecting world and take everyone’s fucking breath away?”

  Rory didn’t even bother glancing at the screen. “What can I say? She took mine away. I couldn’t help myself. And who are you to talk? You nailed her Saturday night.”

  “I did not nail her,” he insisted. Then shook his head. “Jesus. Yes. I nailed her. She was just so vulnerable and sexy and willing … so willing.”

  His groin tightened. He said, “Damn, I wanted her. From the moment I saw her. And, granted, it took a little while for her to warm up to me because she was interested in the job you aren’t going to give her and she had some other things going on, but once we cut through all that minutiae, it was downright electrifying.”

  “Yeah.” Rory clenched his fist and rapped his knuckles on the table. “I can identify with the electrifying part. Problem is, we never actually cut through any minutiae. We somehow created all that after we’d had sex. And then she just … left. Stormed out is more like it, but what’s the difference, right? She couldn’t get out of my apartment fast enough.”

  Christian’s gut clenched. Was that the reason the Polenski Agency had been so amenable with his legal team, so that they could hash out terms this quickly and have contracts drawn up this afternoon? Had Bayli said something to her agent, mentioned the possibility of pulling out of the show because of whatever altercation had happened with Rory yesterday, and so her agent had jumped on the negotiations to execute the deal before Bayli backed out?

  “Oh, goddamn.” He yelled out, “Pierre! Scotch on the rocks, please!”

  “Oui, monsieur,” came the curt reply.

  Pinning Rory with yet another unyielding look, Christian said in a measured tone, “Please tell me you did not run her off on purpose.”

  Rory glared. Then very bluntly said, “You fucked her. Tell me you didn’t completely lose your mind over her. She’s unbelievable, Christian. More than beautiful. More than sexy. More than charming. There is something about that woman that grabs you by the balls and doesn’t let go. But here’s the problem—”

  “No, Rory,” he interjected. “There was no problem. Not when I left her Sunday morning. Not after I met with you Sunday afternoon. There was no problem!”

  “Would you calm down for two seconds?”

  Pierre delivered the entire decanter of scotch, two glasses, and a small ice bucket. He served both men before discreetly wandering off to do whatever else it was that needed to be done before dinner service.

  Rory said, “Bayli and I were getting along great. Enough so that I kissed her in public—you’ve seen the video. I was completely and totally into her, and I was convinced she was feeling the same way. We went back to my place to make dinner but got all tangled up with each other instead, and it was worth every diverted moment.”

  “So why the hell did she walk out on you?”

  “Because I don’t know who she is!” Rory exploded. “Because Bayli Styles is some gorgeous femme fatale one moment and some fragile flower the next—who isn’t even really a fragile flower. Oh, no! She’s got some serious wind in her sails and she isn’t afraid to unleash the tempest.”

  Christian sat back in his seat. Sipped his drink. Felt infinitely calmer. Even grinned. “You fucking idiot.”

  Rory glared again. “As if you’re telling me something new.”

  Christian sighed. “I had a feeling when I watched her act out cigar hostess at the gala
that there was something special about her—something that would intrigue both of us. When I slept with her, that feeling only intensified. But, Rory, she’s not a full-on femme fatale. And you’re right; she’s no fragile flower. She’s got some issues, a past. Not pleasant stuff. And being thrown into our mix? Can you even doubt for a second that it would make someone from very humble beginnings and a shitload of hardships falter?”

  Rory’s jaw tightened. “Hardships.” He shoved away from the chair and paced. “We talked a little about her mom. I know her cross streets because you gave the info to Denny while I was making breakfast. But goddamn it, Christian, what went haywire with Bayli and me yesterday wasn’t about her financial situation or where she came from.”

  “Then what was it about, Rory?”

  He stopped pacing. Planted his hands on his waist and said, “It was about how intense the sex got between us, the fact that my back and my ass look like I went a round with a lion defending her cubs—and she might as well have been a vampire snack, in turn. Her neck…” He let out a harsh breath. “I bit the hell out of it. I couldn’t help myself. Didn’t even really know I was doing it. And all I wanted was more. I knew she did, too. But the more I offered … the more I mentioned what I wanted … the more she tried to digest it all or whatever … It was too much for her. She bolted.”

  “Interesting.” Christian stood as well. He drained his glass and poured another. Then restlessly prowled the space between their table and the fireplace.

  “I knew exactly what I wanted from her,” Rory told him. “But, truthfully, I didn’t care if I got exactly what I wanted from her. I just wanted her.”

  “She’s different from our other women,” Christian said.

  “She’s not our woman, Christian. She’s attracted to both of us and we’re both attracted to her. Always, always, though, we know what we’re looking to get out of the situation and so does the woman we hook up with. Everything about Bayli is a total one-eighty for us. A complete crapshoot. Does she even know what we’re looking for? Did you give her any clue? And for that matter … is she a woman we just separately have? Or is she a woman we could jointly have?”

  “Rory, slow down, man. You’re upset about the two of you hitting a glitch. Don’t stress so much. No, I haven’t alluded to anything with her. But she didn’t have any reservations letting me know there was chemistry between the two of you.”

  Rory shoved a hand through his hair. “We were open about the fact that I knew she’d slept with you Saturday night. Neither of us was fazed.”

  “And none of us are hiding anything.” Christian had always contended that Rory was the one to have the initial strong responses to the women they might want to share. In this instance, Christian had been the one to make that very first connection. But he seriously doubted that Bayli would have had sex with Rory just for the sake of having sex. Especially after sleeping with Christian the night before. There had to be a deeper meaning to it all.

  He fully believed she was into both of them. And it was mutual on their end. So now they just needed to find some common ground. The show offered a perfect platform for that.

  He told Rory, “Let me talk to her. See what’s really up. We both could have come on a bit too strong.”

  “She thinks she’s some sort of inside joke between us. That she’s naïve and we’re viewing her as a small-town girl.”

  “What exactly did you say to her?”

  “I might have asked her if she was a virgin before you.…”

  Christian’s lids squeezed tight. Then flew open. He polished off his second drink, snatched up the envelope Lily had delivered, and thrust it in Rory’s face. “You are the one who knows when we’ve found a woman we’ll both enjoy. And you never, ever fuck it up. So the fact that this one has you so turned around speaks volumes.”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  Christian whirled around and stalked toward the entryway, calling out, “I’m moving our dinner with Bayli to Thursday. Ought to give you enough time to get your bearings, lover boy.” He pushed open the door and stepped into the late-summer sunlight, already plotting his next move with Bayli Styles.

  * * *

  “What flavors do you have?”

  Bayli stared at the girl before her, all blond and perky and staring at the large chalkboard propped on an easel that declared in bold font the day’s gelato selections.

  But this was nothing new for Bayli, so she politely read, “‘Mango, pineapple, chocolate-vanilla swirl, and tiramisu.’”

  “Hmm.” The girl’s lips pressed together. “And that’s all?”

  “That’s all.”

  There was a line forming behind the girl dragging her feet to commit to a flavor. Luckily, Ken Brooks was there to relieve Bayli at the end of her shift, so he jumped in to start helping the others. The blonde still couldn’t make up her mind.

  “Would you like to try some samples?” Bayli offered.

  “No. I’m just … not really sure I’m going to like gelato. It’s not really ice cream, right?”

  “It’s Italian ice cream.” Bayli started to explain the difference, but then someone called out the girl’s name and her attention span disintegrated into a vapor trail and she wandered off while Bayli was in mid-sentence.

  She stared at the blonde’s retreating back and then shrugged. It wasn’t the craziest thing to happen to Bayli while serving gelato in Central Park.

  She turned to the back portion of the makeshift “shoppe” that was fully transportable and came equipped with a vibrantly colored umbrella, removed her apron, folded it, and stuffed it into a cubbyhole before grabbing her purse and slipping the strap across her body.

  “Perfect timing,” came a deep, familiar voice from behind her. “Looks like you’re done for the day.”

  Bayli’s nipples instantly puckered beneath her bra and the lime-green T-shirt that was pulled tight and knotted at her lower back, exposing a bit of skin between the hem and the waist of her faded low-rise jeans. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy updo that left long, wavy strands cascading along her temples.

  She slid on her gold-rimmed aviator sunglasses and turned to face Christian. Instantly losing her breath at the sight of him, wearing black suit pants and a crisp white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his strong, sinewy forearms. He’d obviously left his cuff links, tie, and jacket in his car. His limo?

  With a shake of her head, she tried not to fixate on the class difference between them. She’d gone off on Rory because he’d made her feel inferior, and she regretted it today. She knew that hadn’t been his intention. And Bayli usually wasn’t so sensitive. In fact, she was normally quite comfortable in her own skin. What Phillip and Colin had reiterated last night was the absolute truth: Bayli had done whatever was necessary to survive when growing up and taking care of her mother. She was proud of that.

  The reason she’d been so off-kilter following her explosive encounter with Rory, however, had more to do with being thrust into both his and Christian’s world without having a solid understanding of what her purpose in it was. She wasn’t quite sure where the sexual relationships were going, because they were intense and significant to her—but was Bayli just another notch on their bedposts? And really, was that even a question to ponder after she’d once again botched it so badly with Rory?

  Stepping around the gelato stand, she lightly teased Christian by asking, “Are you stalking me? Not that I’d mind, since it’s you. As long as you don’t request we Skype naked. I have to draw the line somewhere with today’s advanced technology. You never know who might be recording you on the other end.”

  He gave a half snort. “Funny you should mention that. You’re currently on YouTube with Rory.”

  Her pulse jumped. Not in the good way. “You’re shitting me.”

  “Nope. That kiss at the farmers’ market already has several thousand views. Mostly, all you see is Rory swooping in. Whoever shot the video was behind you.”

  “A good
thing, I suspect.” As they started walking through the park, she stuffed her hands into her front pockets to keep from fidgeting as her nerves twisted. Or maybe it was to keep from grabbing Christian and kissing him the way Rory had done to her. “Fastest way to become the world’s most hated woman—caught kissing a hotter-than-hell celebrity bachelor in public.”

  “Clearly, he made the move on you.”

  She gazed up at Christian. “I didn’t stop him. Responded, in fact.”

  “Yes.” He nodded. “That was made quite evident in the video as well.”

  Bayli sighed. “Are you mad?”

  “At what?”

  She knew instantly he was testing her.

  First, she said, “Because I might eventually be ID’d as the woman Rory St. James spontaneously kissed and TMZ will break the story—perhaps before the cooking show gets off the ground?”

  He was quiet a moment, then asked, “So you’re still interested?”

  “Why wouldn’t I still be interested?” Anxiety crept in on her. Was Christian here to cut her out of the show before she’d even officially signed on? Because of that PDA circulating on YouTube?

  “Rory told me you were upset when you left his apartment last night.”

  “That’s putting the whole scenario mildly, so I’ll assume you’re paraphrasing. Which does bring me to my next point. Does Rory kissing me have any bearing on us?”

  “From what I heard, he did a hell of a lot more than just kiss you.”

  Bayli stopped walking before they reached the crowded sidewalk at the south entrance of the park. “That’s true. And apparently he wanted to do a hell of a lot more. But I wasn’t ready for that.”

  Christian’s teeth gritted for a moment. Bayli waited patiently for him to decide on whatever it was he wanted to say to her. A warm breeze ruffled his dark hair. The lines around his ice-blue eyes crinkled as he squinted against the late-afternoon sun. His hands were also in his pockets, and it felt somehow cold and awkward that they stood so close to each other but were clearly disinclined to engage in any sort of physical contact.