Babysitting the Billionaire(29)

“You’ll be part of those meetings?”

“I wish. No, but I’ll be in the office. We can meet after.”

He stroked her hair, following the line from crown to under her ear. “Bob. The name of the cut, right? Do you really wish it?”

The hair? No, the trip. “Of course. To see Antarctica? Wow. And I’m sure penguins in the wild don’t walk, or probably talk, anything like they do in zoos.”

He swerved his head farther from her, and she realized she was swinging her hands wide in her excitement. But she couldn’t stop.

“I’d hoped to sell some paintings, see if I could earn some money to go at least to the base camp.”

“Edmondsson should pay for that.”

“He disagrees.”

“Idiot.”

“An old man set in his ways. But I thought if I showed him I could get to base camp, you know, he might reconsider. People get sick, and spaces open up, and if you’re there, well.” She shrugged. It had made sense in theory. And that’s where it stayed.

“You really want to go.”

Her shoulders slumped. “But the painting isn’t going well.”

“There’s more to this story,” he said, looking past her to the screen, pulling the photo up.

She read the text under the photo. It must be a gossip site, because it used blind quotes and anonymous sources. Beau Kurck was in town to finalize plans to fund an ambitious expedition to Antarctica, under the auspices of the esteemed Penguin Foundation and storied explorer-president, Markus Edmondsson.

“Sadie had to have leaked that. She’s the only one who uses ‘storied explorer-president’. The rest of us put an ‘and’ in between.”

“Their first salvo.”

“I’m sorry. It is a good cause.”

“Why are you sorry?” He tilted his head to get a better look at her face. “If you had to choose, you’d take the penguin trip?”

“Over what?”

“Over me.”

She looked at him, startled. What was he saying? Her job or him?

“Too hard a question?”

Her heart lurched, as if it were in his blasted game. “Why do I have to choose? Going to Antarctica automatically disqualifies me from being in the same room as you?” She was squeaking. It was a miracle he even understood her.

“Shh. It’s just a question. I didn’t mean the world by it.”

“Are you magic? Did you wrap a string around my chest last night? You’re choking my heart.”

He hugged her tight, his breath warm on her neck. “Not what I meant,” he murmured.

She pushed him away, but not that far away. “Then, what?”

“I have a plan for tonight. I’ve made some calls, called in a favor. But things still might fall out a couple of ways. If you never saw Antarctica, or you never saw me again, what would be worse?”

She dropped her head on his shoulder, her thoughts racing. He was testing her? He was doing that impersonal CEO logic thing?

No. He was afraid, too. Afraid she’d hurt him.

“You,” she said, sighing the word out. Feeling her heart ease. Sure, it was fast, but it was right.

“Me, too.” He snuggled her close to him.

“What’s the plan?”

“Trust me. And do whatever I say tonight.” Before she could protest, he took her lips in one of those only-by-Beau kisses. Even though they were sitting, May had to grab his shoulders for balance.

“I have three plans. And they all include you.”

****

On this mild and quiet June Friday, black and silver bunting hung from the balconies and draped the tall Corinthian columns in the great hall of the NationalBuildingMuseum. The color would have to come from the partiers tonight.

But not the men, May expected. Even Beau’s tux, thought perfectly cut, of course, was the traditional black over white. Even his cummerbund was silver. She stood a little too close to him as they entered under the great columns. He was hers.

They were fashionably late. May had fretted over the time, but Beau had said he wanted to make Edmondsson sweat, just a little. Probably the only ones sweating were she and Sadie, May thought.

As if her thoughts had conjured her up, Sadie appeared at her side. Her beautiful hair was forced into an Evita-tight bun at the base of her neck, but at least her shoulders were free hovering over a navy satin bustier.

“You’re late,” she said, looking nervously over her shoulder.

“You look lovely, too, Miss Hawking.” Beau was as smooth as his cummerbund. He’d shaved again, but somehow that made him look more dangerous. He looked pointedly at May.

Sadie took the hint. “You look gorgeous, May, in that color. Not many people can pull off such a regal purple.”