Scoring the Billionaire(19)

"Wes … we're fuck enemies," she said, surprising me. I'd honestly thought  we were coming to a blatantly opposite place. Apparently, my notions  weren't anything more than romantic propaganda pushed by a misinformed  heart.

"Fuck enemies?" I asked with a sardonic laugh.

"Like fuck buddies without the friendship."

Sharpness twisted my chest and squeezed at the bluntness of her words.

It took me a few seconds longer than I would have liked to calm my  racing thoughts, but eventually, I focused on my most important truth:  That wasn't how I felt.

"Win," I said. "Truthfully?"

She nodded tentatively, unsure of what I had to say but willing to hear  it. She looked like she thought it would be callous-mean, even.

"I'd have to change a thousand things over to be your enemy." Her breath  left her in a surprised whoosh. "You and I are friends."

"Wes … " She shifted on her feet, as though maybe she weren't so sure.

"Maybe you could hate me," I conceded. "But I could never not like you."

"I don't hate you," she said with her mouth. Not even a little, she  added with her big, honest eyes, and I finally relaxed. Her talk of  being enemies was just that-talk. A mechanism to distance herself from a  man whose every move screamed he needed it.         

     



 

But my needs currently worked in opposition to my wants, and I'd never  been that good at denying myself instant and frequent gratification.

"Good," I told her, prompting again, "Dinner?"

Uncertainty haunted the dark depths at the centers of her eyes, but the  pull she felt toward me, the same magnetism that made me ask, kept her  from saying no.

"Okay. But it's a school night, and Lex-"

"We'll go to my restaurant," I interrupted, too busy celebrating my  victory to give any consideration to the fact that it was already eight  o'clock-not that it would have changed anything if I had. I had to have  their company. "In and out in record time, and if she's a picky eater,  the chef will make her anything, whether it's on the menu or not."

"You don't have to worry about Lex and food. She eats just about anything. I'm the pickier one between the two of us."

Something, some feeling deep in the pit of my stomach, told me she  wasn't just talking about food. Life and experience and a hell of a long  time raising her daughter alone had taught her to be selective about  everyone they welcomed into their lives. And she wasn't sure I was  worthy of it yet.

Neither am I.

But I wasn't ready to say good-bye, so I used a word I couldn't remember consciously using in years. "Please?"

She looked surprised at the word, and though she looked beautiful, I  couldn't feel anything other than disappointment. My mother had died  giving birth to me, but I still suspected she'd have been disappointed  in the way I'd treated people for the last several years-and I knew my  father would have.

Even though I greatly respected nearly everyone, their backgrounds and unique outlook and successes, I hardly ever showed it.

And when I had demands, I usually demanded them. Maybe I needed to stock up on honey and give up a little bit of my vinegar.

"Okay. I'll get Lexi."

I smiled widely. "Good."

"But you're buying my dessert too."

"Hey," I teased. "I own the place. Something tells me I can make it happen."




Winnie and Lex had been grateful for my help in avoiding taking the  labyrinth of trains they would have normally taken to get home, and I  was happy to have company on a journey I normally made all on my own.  Just three weeks ago, I had been convinced I was most content with the  opposite.

Like I said … big ol' bag of what the fuck.

I drove nearly silently while they chatted, Winnie mostly asking  specific questions in order to get Lexi talking a little more. It'd been  a busy day, and according to what I had witnessed, that was one of the  times she felt the least like talking.

And I couldn't say I blamed her. I usually didn't feel like it either.  Why everyone thought every silence needed to be filled with chatter all  the goddamn time was beyond me. Some of us were content to be quiet.

Still, this was a little different.

Winnie had finally shared with me that Lex had been diagnosed as  high-functioning on the autistic spectrum-through an entirely unplanned  conversation during postcoital supply-closet talk. I couldn't be sure,  but it kind of seemed like she'd just needed to get it out, and I'd been  happy to listen. Granted, I'd still had my hand on her breast and  probably would have been content to do just about anything. But in  hindsight, I really was glad I'd listened-and that she'd trusted me  enough to share it with me.

Apparently, an important part of Lex's therapy was pushing her out of  her comfort zone a little at a time. Kind of like stretching a muscle-if  you worked her into it slowly, eventually all of the things that would  be socially expected of her would come easily.

I was all for the success of the kid, I was by no means an expert on a  child I'd spent time with three times at most, and I knew what they were  doing was one of the reasons Lexi was able to talk to me as much as she  was now, but I had a secret-I liked her like she was.



I like a kid. Huh. I'm just as shocked as you are.



After dropping my car off at my apartment garage, we walked the few blocks to BAD and occupied a table in the back.         

     



 

It was pretty busy-good for business, so I couldn't complain-but I could  tell the noise and overall activity was starting to become a little too  much for Lex. She was agitated and antsy, and both of those made Winnie  more and more uncomfortable by the minute.

I frowned as I realized that she wasn't reacting solely to Lexi's discomfort, but also to the threat of mine.

She was obviously afraid I'd be bothered, and-shamefully-under any other circumstances, she probably would have been right.

I simply hadn't had the experience with this kid or any other to  understand. But everything I knew about Lex only made me want to know  more-and I knew enough to know that anything seen as negative by someone  else when it came to this kid, was something far deeper, and way  further beyond her control than any of us could possibly understand.

An idea struck me.

I squeezed Winnie's leg under the table-to touch her, to get her attention, and to fly under the young genius's radar.

"I'll be right back, okay?"

Winnie's eyebrows drew together slightly, but she nodded, her cute  black-frame reading glasses bobbing slightly on the bridge of her  nose-apparently, she needed them to see the menu. "Okay."

I scooted out of the booth and headed for my office here at the  restaurant. Thatch liked to joke that I sure had a lot of offices for  someone who never fucking worked-which was not true, of course. But  according to Thatch, his version of the truth was always better.

I flipped on the switch and blinked at the bright light before rounding my desk and opening and slamming drawers quickly.

My manager, Amanda, a cute woman in her midtwenties with rainbow-colored  hair, apparently noticed, peeking her head in with a knock on the metal  doorframe. "What's the commotion, boss man?"

I rolled my eyes and shook my head, opening the last drawer and shouting  a little in victory when I saw the old scientific calculator right on  top.

Amanda raised her eyebrows and stepped back at the unexpected show of emotion.

"Don't mind me," I said as I waved her off.

She looked at me as though I were a mythical creature, the discrepancies  born of my own habits, but I didn't have the time or patience to  address it.

Brushing past her, I gave a little wave and moved back toward the table  where Winnie had Lex pulled close to her side and was speaking softly in  her ear.

I slowed my step until it seemed like their moment was over and then sped back up to my normal pace.

"Hey, Lex," I said. "Look what I found. I used this thing in college, but even then, I didn't have half the brains you do."

"What did you major in in college?" Winnie asked as Lex reached out to take the calculator and quickly occupied herself.

I settled back into my seat and smiled at having done something right.  Lex was content, and now that she was, maybe Winnie would be at ease  too.

When I glanced back to Winnie, she was looking at me with something else in her eye again, but I couldn't quite place it.

"Electrical engineering. I've used it well, huh?"

Life was weird. I wouldn't have predicted anything about my career-other  than the restaurant. I'd known from a very young age that I wanted  this, but it wasn't about me. It was all about my mother.

Winnie laughed but shrugged. Made a show of looking around the packed restaurant. "You look like you're doing all right to me."

My gaze flicked between her and Lex. They put more questions in my mind  than answers, but I knew one thing that was definite. I felt happier  than I had in a long time.

When I met her eyes one last time, I added a wink.

Goddamn, Thatch would be proud.