The Wager: A Billionaire Romance (6 page)

"Uh...thanks," I said.

"There
is
a reason I came today," he began. "I wanted to know if you'd go out to dinner with me."

"You want to go out with me?" I repeated, almost not believing my ears.

"Yes, and don't even bother asking me why. Let's just say I'm trying to expand my social circle," he grinned, throwing out my own words at me.

I bit my lip in thought. My mind was trying to come up with every reason why this was a bad idea, but my heart was jumping to say yes. He stood there patiently, watching me wage war within myself, an engaging twinkle lighting up his eyes.

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea," I hedged.

"Why not?"

"I'm kind of busy with the shop," I lied.

"I haven't even suggested a day yet," he shot back. "Just say yes. I can tell you want to, and I promise you'll have a good time. I'll be on my best behavior."

"I don't know--"

"It's just dinner, I promise I won't bite."

It was hard to resist his charming persistence. He knew all the right things to say to ease my worries. I knew I was being overly cautious and suspicious about his motives. Yet he hadn't given me any reason to distrust him. I was the one who owed him my gratitude for helping me out of that unfortunate situation with Max Stein.

"All right," I finally gave in. "I guess I owe you for coming to my rescue on Saturday night."

He smiled brightly at me. "Great. I'll pick you up here tonight at 7pm," he said before turning around and walking out the door.

I stared at his retreating form, surprised by his sudden departure. It took a moment after he had exited my shop for it to finally sink in what he had just said. He'd pick me up tonight! The dinner was tonight! I almost ran out the door to tell him I couldn't make it. I had to close the book shop tonight, which was open until eight. Miguel and Doris came back from lunch as I was coming out from behind the counter to try and catch him.

"Who was that gorgeous man that just walked out of the shop?" Doris asked as soon as she came in.

"Don't got time to talk. Got to catch him," I said, heading for the front door.

"You won't catch him," Miguel said. "He got into a car and he's gone."

I blew out a frustrated breath and walked back behind the counter.

"That was Roman Conrad."

Doris looked at me in shock. "
The
Roman Conrad?" she asked.

"Who's Roman Conrad?" Miguel asked.

"Just the most eligible bachelor in the city. Hell, maybe in the whole country. If only I was about 40 years younger, mm mm mm," she said nodding her head.

"What's so great about that guy?" Miguel asked.

"How about the fact that he is handsomer than sin and has a real estate empire that surpasses Donald Trump's. Don't look at me like that," she added turning to me. "Unlike some people, I do enjoy reading the gossip magazines now and again."

"What was he doing in the shop? Did he buy a book?" Miguel asked.

They both looked at me expectantly. There was no point in hiding the truth from them since they'd find out about it sooner or later. Besides, I needed one of them to close the shop for me tonight while I was out on my date with Roman. I'd decided there was no point in trying to cancel or reschedule, he would probably show up anyway. It might have even worked out better for me this way, since I wouldn't have days to sit around in anticipation.

"He actually came to see me," I said. I watched the expressions cross their faces and had to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud.

Miguel recovered first. "Why?" he asked simply.

"He asked me to go out with him. It's actually tonight and I'm going to need one of you to close for me," I said keeping my voice neutral.

Doris looked like she was ecstasy and threw her hands up. "I knew it! I told you you'd meet a nice man at that gala, and it came true. He was the one who sent you those flowers, wasn't he? Of course he was," she said answering her own question.

"I'd love to help you out boss, but I got class tonight," Miguel said.

I turned to Doris, "Can you close up tonight?"

"You don't even have to ask," she replied without skipping a beat.

So it was settled. Tonight I was going on a date with Roman Conrad, Lord help me.

Chapter Four: Roman

I arrived back at the book shop in Greenwich Village promptly at 7pm. It had taken me a long time to find it earlier, tucked away off a little side street. It was a quaint little store that looked well-kept and I had to admit to being impressed. When I had hired my investigators to dig into Lily's background, I hadn't expected her to be so accomplished for her age.

She was only 26-years-old and had been running her own bookstore for five years. She'd bought the place from her old boss, a Mr. Gerald Mosley, who still owned the building. Her file was pretty thin--there weren't any black marks against her, no arrest records, or any other dirty little secrets. She had enrolled at Parsons after high school, but dropped out after she took over the book store.

After I had read through her file, I had decided to check the store out on a whim during my lunch break. At first, I was only going to scope the place out from the outside, but my curiosity got the better of me. I wanted to see what it looked like inside and a part of me was almost looking forward to seeing Lily Hayward again, strange as that was.

Since meeting her for the first time on Saturday night, I hadn't been able to stop thinking about her. It was pretty unsettling and a little out of the ordinary for me. No woman had ever had that effect on me and it wasn't because I was attracted to her. At least I didn't think I was. It wasn't a feeling of unbridled lust where I just had to tear her clothes off and get her in my bed. Something else drew me to her. I didn't know what it was, but I was helpless to keep away it seemed.

I saw her as soon as I walked in. She was behind the counter ready to tuck into her lunch. At first, I almost didn't believe it was the same woman. She wasn't wearing those comically large glasses, which was an improvement. On the down side, she was covered up to her neck in a black turtleneck sweater, hiding her fetching breasts that I'd found so attractive the other night.

She was shocked to see me, and I couldn't blame her. I could tell when that shock soon turned weary and suspicious as she wondered what I was doing there. Truthfully, I didn't know what I was doing there either. I hadn't planned on stopping by. I had planned to take things slowly, deciding to send her flowers at first. But once I was there, I knew I couldn't leave without wrangling another meeting with her. It had taken some convincing, but once she had finally agreed, I told her I'd pick her up that night, and left before she had a chance to change her mind.

When I walked into the bookshop, I was surprised to find it empty. There was no one standing behind the front counter, and a quick glance between the shelves turned up no one. I had the sudden misgiving that she'd stood me up. Before that thought could settle, an old woman walked out one of the back rooms and rushed towards me holding her arms out. I stiffened at her approach, wondering who she was and what she was doing.

"Oh you must be Roman Conrad!" she gushed. "You're even more handsome in person."

"Thank you. I'm sorry, who are you?" I asked, a little taken aback at this woman's forwardness.

"Oh dear. I'm sorry for accosting you like this. I'm Doris. I work here. Lily is still in the back office. I'll just run back there and tell her you're here," she dashed away, before I could utter another word.

She reappeared a minute later with an apologetic smile on her face. "Lily's coming right out. You wait right there," she said.

"Not a problem," I said to her. I turned and began to browse the shelves of books, not really seeing the titles.

I frowned to myself at this woman's obvious agitation. It was like she was afraid I'd run out the door any second. I wondered what Lily had told her back there to make her so tense and uneasy.

"Ah there she is!" she nearly shouted.

I lifted my head just in time to see Lily patting her hair down as she exited from her office. Once she caught me looking, she dropped her hands and flushed guiltily as if she didn't want me thinking she cared about what she looked like.

Now that I could see her fully, unencumbered by the front counter, she looked remarkably enticing in her fitted gray skirt, black sweater, and knee high black boots with black stockings. Her blonde was tied back in a messy bun, and there were loose strands framing her face. My fingers twitched with the urge to tuck one of those loose strands behind her ear. Instead I clenched it in a fist and held it behind my back.

"It's nice to see you again," I said, smiling down at her.

"Thank you," she replied.

"Are you ready to go?" I asked.

"Yes, just let me put on my coat."

She walked behind the counter and reached under to pull out her coat and purse. After she slipped them on, I held my arm out to her to lead her out. She looked at it for a moment before finally slipping her hand on the crook of my arm. The touch of her smooth delicate hand on my arm shocked me. It was like a little electrical jolt of energy hit me right where her hand met my arm. I had to suck in a short gasp, surprised by my reaction.

"You two have fun now. Don't worry about the shop, Lily," Doris said as we stepped out the door.

***

"Seems like you had a busy day at work today?" I ventured to ask once we were out of the shop. I led her to my car parked a little further down the street.

"Yeah, surprisingly so. I had a lot to catch up on," she answered.

"I could tell. You didn't even have time to change," I said.

She looked up at me sharply, as her eyes narrowed. I could tell I had offended her.

"I didn't know I was supposed to change. I do have a job after all and can't just drop everything to go home and get all dolled up for a date I didn't even know I was going on until a few hours ago," she snapped.

"I'm sorry. That came out wrong. I actually admire your attitude. I'm just so used to women going above and beyond to try to impress me. It's a nice change of pace to meet someone who couldn't care less," I said and was surprised when I realized it was the truth.

"I guess I should feel flattered," she said grudgingly.

"Yes, you should," I teased.

Finally her hard shell cracked a little and I saw a small smile tug on her lips.

"So where are we going?" she asked, changing the subject.

"To dinner," I said.

"I know that. Don't be fresh," she admonished lightly.
"Where
are we going to dinner?"

"Hmm, that depends. Do you like Italian?" I asked.

"I do."

"Good," I said.

We reached my car and I opened the door for her. She seemed a little surprised by my action, but got in all the same. Once we were on the road, I turned on the radio. I never liked having conversations in cars, preferring to concentrate on driving. Besides, something about being in such close quarters with her was just too distracting.

We arrived at the restaurant less than ten minutes later. I could tell she wanted to make a smart comment about how it would have been easier to just walk, but she restrained herself. I handed my car keys to the valet and before I could walk to the other side to open her door, she had already gotten out. She looked at me, an inviting twinkle lighting her eye, and smiled.

"I do occasionally like to open my own doors," she laughed.

"I'll remember that for next time," I said.

We walked into Domenici's Trattoria and were immediately greeted by the host. Since I'd been here several times before, the staff knew who I was and seated us at the best table. The restaurant was a little hole in the wall in the heart of Little Italy. I had come here by chance years ago and was impressed by the food and service. The decor was rustic and simple, but it was a calming atmosphere. Tonight it was somewhat busy with locals and regulars. No one batted an eye at us as we walked into the dining room, which served my purposes just fine.

I didn't want to overwhelm her on our first date, and I had a feeling she'd be more than uncomfortable at some of trendier places in the city. I wanted her to be relaxed. No one would bother us or walk up to our table to engage me in some mundane conversation about the stock market or so and so's golf game. I was proven right when I saw her visibly relax once she stepped inside the restaurant and saw the simple rustic decor.

After the waiter had left to get our drink orders, I peeked at her over the top of my menu. She was biting her bottom lip staring over the choices and I had the urge to laugh at her serious expression.

"It's just food," I said. "Not life or death."

She released her lip and gave her head a tiny shake. "I know that. I'm just having a hard time picking what I want. They all sound so delicious," she said.