Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Alpha Males (202 page)

Wonderful.
 
Now Kenley would have a constant reminder of Chad.
 
A picture of them kissing.
 
“I have to go,” she told Melissa.

“Why?”

“Because we’re going out,” she said.
 
“I’ll call you later.”

She hung up the phone.
 
She could hear Chad clanging around in
the kitchen as he made breakfast.
 
She had no idea how she was going to go out there and face him, how she
was going to be able to pretend that last night had meant nothing to her.
 
She felt the prickly heat of tears
starting in her eyes, but she blinked them away.
 
It was going to be okay, she told
herself.
 
It was going to be okay
because she was in complete control.
 
She wasn’t going to let her guard down.
 
All she had to do was get through the
day, keep her cool, and make sure that the paparazzi got some pictures of her
and Chad together.
 
And then
tomorrow she could leave and never look back.
 

Chapter
Ten

“How about Gucci?” Kenley asked.
 
“Aren’t there always tons of paparazzi
at Gucci?”

“Um, I’m not sure,” Chad said.
 
They were walking together in Manhattan,
and Chad was doing his best to try and keep Kenley away from all the places he
thought there might be photographers.
 
He was afraid that once they got their picture, Kenley would decide that
she wanted to go back to Brooklyn, and then once she got there she’d barricade
herself in the guestroom and not emerge until he had to take her to the airport
tomorrow.
 
Keeping Kenley away from
the cameras was not an easy task.
 
She was like a woman possessed.
 

“I always see them hanging out there,” Kenley
said, dodging a man holding a big Louis Vuitton bag.
 
She looked at the Louis Vuitton logo, a
pensive look on her face, like maybe she was considering ditching her Gucci
plan and looking for paparazzi at Louis Vuitton instead.

“Where?” Chad asked.

“Near the Gucci store!” Kenley said, sounding
exasperated.

“No, I mean, where do you see them?”

“On reality shows,” she said.
 
“TMZ, that kind of thing.
 
And when I googled, it said that you can
usually see paparazzi hanging out in that area of the city.
 
It’s supposedly where all those reality
TV socialites shop.”

“Well,” Chad said, trying to sound like he knew
what he was talking about.
 
“I don’t
think photographers really congregate down there unless they know there’s a
celebrity in one of those stores.
 
You know, like if they get tipped off.”

She sighed.
 
“Can we stop walking for a second?” she
asked.
 
“My feet hurt and I’m
starting to get cold.”

“Absolutely,” Chad said, brightening at the
idea that she was getting deterred from her mission. “Why don’t we go sit down
and grab a coffee and figure out our next step?”

She hesitated, looking around, probably trying
to figure out how off track this was going to make them when it came to her
master plan.
 
“Okay,” she said
finally.
 
“But I don’t think we
should waste too much time hanging out in a coffee shop.
 
We’re definitely not going to get
noticed there.”

Ten minutes later, they were tucked away in a
booth in the back of a Starbucks, Chad with a black coffee and Kenley with a
pumpkin spice latte.
 
The air in the
café was warm, and Chad took off his brown leather jacket and draped it over
the back of his chair.
 
He hoped
Kenley got the message that he was planning on being there for a while.

“So what should we do?”
 
Kenley asked.
 
She was looking at him for the answer,
cupping her hands around her latte.
 
Her nails were painted a pale pink color, and Chad resisted the urge to
reach out and hold her hand.

“I don’t know,” Chad said, pretending to think
about it.
 
“I think it’s great that
last night we got some fans to take pictures, but maybe the paparazzi thing
just isn’t going to happen.
 
I mean,
I don’t know where else to go.”
 
It
was a lie.
 
There were a million
places her could take her, the kind of places that would definitely get them
recognized, the kind of places that were crawling with paparazzi.
 
And if he got really desperate, he could
always take her out tonight to some clubs, the kind of trendy, hipster spots
that those Kardashian sisters were always hanging out in.
 
Hell, he could take her to the
Kardashian store if he wanted to go that route.

“Can’t you call in a tip or something?” Kenley
asked.

“A tip?”

“Yeah like when you call the paparazzi and let
them know where you are?
 
Like, on
purpose?
 
Isn’t Paris Hilton always
doing things like that?”

“I wouldn’t know who to call,” Chad lied
again.
 
He took a long sip of his
coffee.

Kenley narrowed her eyes at him and then sat
back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest.
 
“What’s going on?” she demanded.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what’s up with all this not wanting to
get our pictures taken together?” Realization dawned on her face.
 
“Are you.. are you
embarrassed
of me?”

“No!” he said.
 
“No, not at all.”
 
The situation was starting to get away from
him.
 
She was too smart not to be
suspicious of all the stalling he was doing.
 
Shit. He looked around the restaurant
nervously, then took another sip of his coffee, trying to figure out what to
say.
 
Jesus, this woman had him on
the ropes.
 
And then he had a
brilliant idea.
 
An amazing,
wonderful, perfect idea.
 

“Listen,” he said, and leaned across the
table.
 
He gave her his patented
grin, his Chad Parnell I-can-get-anything-I want grin.
 
“New York isn’t really the place to be
if you want to get noticed.”

“What?”
 
She slammed her latte down on the table.
 
“Then why the hell did you bring me
here?”

Kenley’s eyes were blazing, and so Chad quickly
tried to backpedal.
 
“No, no, I
mean, it was definitely good that you were here.
 
We needed to make it seem like we were
in a relationship, and so you being here, at my apartment, was necessary.
 
And having those pictures taken by fans
helped, too.”

“Okay….” she said, waiting for him to go on.

“But obviously there’s no paparazzi here,” he
said.
 
“They’re in L.A.
 
Like,
really
in L.A.
 
So I
think that maybe what we should do is go there.”

Kenley choked on a sip of her latte.
 
“To
Los
Angeles?”

“Yes,” he said, nodding.
 
Then he sighed, like he couldn’t believe
it had come to this.
 
But in
reality, what he couldn’t believe was that he’d come up with such an amazing
plan.
 
He’d take her to California
for a week, and that’s where he’d win her over.
 
He’d make her see that he was serious
about her, that he wanted to build a future with her, that he knew they hadn’t
known each other that long but he had never been more sure of anything in his
life.
 
By the time they left L.A.,
she’d know.
 
She’d know that he was
falling in love with her.
 
And he’d
make sure she was falling in love with him.

“I can’t go to L.A.,” Kenley said.
 
“Are you crazy?”

A couple of women in the booth next to them
looked over, and Chad gave them a reassuring smile, hoping to God that they
didn’t recognize him.
 
They gave him
tight smiles back, the kind of smiles you would give to a random man in Starbucks
who you were afraid was about to get into a screaming fight with his girlfriend
and ruin your coffee date.

“I know it sucks,” Chad said to Kenley, shaking
his head sadly.
 
“But we’ve come
this far.”

“No.”
 
She shook her head.
 
“That
was not part of the deal.”

“I’ll, um, you know, up the ante of
course.”
 
He’d pay her whatever she
wanted.

Her phone rang then, and she rummaged through
her bag.
 
“Hello?” she said.
 
“Are you serious?
 
Are you sure?
 
Okay…okay… okay.”
 
She gave him a thumbs up and then hung
up her phone.

“That was my sister,” she said, sounding
excited.
 
“And she just saw on
twitter that a bunch of people spotted George Clooney at some restaurant called
Norma’s having brunch.
 
If we hurry,
we can get there.”

She was already moving toward the door, dumping
the rest of her coffee into the trash bin.
 
Chad sighed, and then after a minute, he followed her.
 
So much for his brilliant idea.

***

By the time they got to Fifty-Seventh Street,
Kenley was out of breath.
 
If she’d
known she was going to be running around the city, she would have started going
to the gym.
 
Or at least not worn
boots with heels.

Norma’s was in a hotel called the Parker
Meridien, and when the front entrance came into view, Kenley was disappointed
to find that George Clooney was nowhere to be seen. But a loose tangle of
paparazzi was gathered outside, and Kenley sped up when she saw them.
 
Thank God for Melissa.
 
For once Kenley was thankful that her
sister was such a busybody.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing Chad’s sleeve and
dragging him along down the sidewalk.
 
What was his problem?
 
Why
was he moving so slow?
 
This was his
chance to get their picture taken!
 
“What is wrong with you?” she demanded.
 
“Hurry up!”

He upped his speed, but only slightly.
 
No matter – they were almost in
front of the restaurant now.
 
She
grabbed for Chad’s hand, and his grip tightened around hers.
 
His fingers felt warm and strong and
safe, and she closed her eyes, allowing herself one moment of pretending that
she really was Chad’s girlfriend, that she was really here with him, that they
were going out to brunch like a normal couple, and not just as a fake couple
scrounging for a paparazzi picture.

But as soon as she had the thought, she
instantly felt guilty.
 
Forget him,
she told herself.
 
You are not going
to get all crazy about some guy just because you had sex with him.
 
It’s a funny story, that’s all,
something to tell your future husband.
 
Not that her future husband was probably going to be too amused by her
agreeing to spend a few days with Chad Parnell for a hundred thousand
dollars.
 
Or by the fact that she’d
ended up sleeping with him.
 
Maybe
she didn’t have to tell her future husband about the hundred thousand
dollars.
 
Of course, leaving out the
money aspect didn’t necessarily make the story sound that much better.
 
And did she really want to start her
future marriage off by being dishonest?
 
Probably not.
 
Everyone
always said that the minute you started lying to your spouse, you ---

Flash!
 
Snap!

The cameras started flashing and popping in
front of her face.
 
It was weird,
she thought, as Chad pulled her close and she smiled and posed.
 
Just a few days ago, the camera had felt
like an intrusion.
 
Now it felt like
something she wanted to go after, some kind of necessary evil that was going to
help her get home.
 
She posed this
way and that, even going as far as to kiss Chad on the cheek.
 
Finally, after the paparazzi had gotten
so many pictures that Kenley was being to think they might be getting bored,
Chad opened the door to the restaurant and Kenley stepped inside.