Billionaire Bad Boys of Romance 2(75)

“I am.” Tipping my head to pinch my phone between my ear and shoulder, I dug into my ice bin, grabbed a cube and popped it into my mouth.

“Um…?”

“I know. It’s complicated,” I explained as I crunched. “I had to agree to go on a date with him to get him to sign the contract.”

“Okay.” She still sounded happy, but her voice was back in its normal range. “Interesting.”

A knock sounded on the door, and once again I jumped. “I gotta go.”

“Is he there?”

“I think so,” I said as I hurried toward the door.

“Cool. Call me when you get home.”

“I will.”

“Have fun.”

“I will.”

“Oh, and if you can get WhatsHisName’s phone number for me, I might forgive you for messing up my night.”

I laughed. “I’ll see what I can do. Bye.”

I clicked off, set my phone to silent mode, and shoved it in my purse. Then, after one final mirror check, I sucked in a deep breath, let it out slowly, and opened the door.

It wasn’t him. It wasn’t Tevin.

I must have looked confused, because the man at my door grinned. “Miss Daryl Laroche?”

“That’s my name, yes.”

“I’ve come to pick you up.”#p#分页标题#e#

He’s come to pick me up? What the hell?

“And take me where?” I asked.

Had I misunderstood our agreement? Had I actually agreed to go on a date with one of Tevin’s friends? I gave the man an up and down look. He was okay. A little old for me. The silver hair at his temples suggested he was maybe in his forties. He was dressed in a suit and tie. I was dressed casually. Comfortably.

“I’m to take you to meet Mr. Page.”

“Mr. Page?” I echoed. This was a guy who had told me he mowed lawns and dabbled in real estate. I hadn’t had a chance yet to call Marguerite and ask her what the real story was. Obviously, there was more to Mr. Page than what he’d told me. “Why couldn’t he come himself?” I asked as I remained inside my apartment.

“He was delayed and thought it would be wiser to send me to pick you up than to be further delayed.”

“I see.” Unsure about what was really going on, I fiddled with my purse and peered out the front window.

There was a limo sitting out there. A limo.

And I was wearing a jean skirt.

Tevin had said to wear something comfortable. That was exactly what I’d done. I glanced down at my denim-covered legs. Did I have time to change?

“We should be going,” the driver said, looking a little less amused now. He checked his watch.

“All right.” With some reluctance, I followed him outside. I got in the back and he took his place behind the wheel. I’d never realized how big a limo could feel if one was sitting in it alone. I hit the button, opening up the window that closed off the driver’s cockpit from the passenger area. “Where are we going?”

“The airport,” the driver stated as if that was no big deal.





Chapter 3

“Airport?” I squeaked. Was this for real?

“Yes, Miss.” The limo driver’s gaze met mine in the rearview mirror.

“I…I had no idea.”

“I think it was meant to be a surprise,” the driver said as he smoothly turned the vehicle onto the road. “I shouldn’t tell you more.”

Was it a surprise?

Or was it Tevin’s way of making me pay for cancelling yesterday’s date?

“When ‘Mr. Page’ said I should wear something comfortable, I figured we would be going to a cozy little restaurant for some lunch or something,” I rambled to no one in particular. “The airport? Where could he possibly be taking me? I’ve never flown on a plane before.”

“No need to worry. Mr. Page is an excellent pilot,” the driver said.

“Pilot? Pilot!” I inhaled. Exhaled. “He told me he mows grass for a living.”

“I think you’ll find Mr. Page is a man of many talents.”

“I’m beginning to think you’re right.” I moved closer so I wouldn’t have to shout at the driver across the entire empty length of the car. Really, the huge limo was completely unnecessary. A simple sedan would have been just fine. “How long have you known Mr. Page?”

“A few years.”

“I see.” Tevin Page didn’t look like the kind of guy who rode around in a limo on a regular basis, and yet this driver seemed to know him rather well. And was claiming to have worked for him for at least a couple of years.

What the hell was going on?

Now was my chance. To find out the real story about Tevin Page. Outside of the lame story he’d given me when we met, everything about him suggested he had money. Lots of money. And that he’d had that money for a long time.