Home > Played by the Billionaire(7)

Played by the Billionaire(7)
Author: Alexia Adams

“I went back into the dating site. Lorelei has arranged a date with some architect for tonight at a wine bar in the Financial District. He’s not going to show up. I am.”

“How did you arrange that? You haven’t had him kidnapped, have you?” David asked.

“What kind of person do you think I am? I simply sent him a message from Lorelei’s account saying she had to work late and she’d contact him next week to rearrange. Then I deleted her profile and reimbursed the subscription fees.”

“Why did you choose this girl again? Aside from the fact that she’s gorgeous?”

“Because she’s new to the area. Apparently she has no relatives here so I won’t have to get involved with her family.” Liam popped a handful of M&M’s in his mouth.

“Sweet. What about the guy whose place you’re taking?”

“He’s a loser. Already been married three times and his divorce isn’t even final from his last wife. I’m saving Lorelei from him.”

“If thinking that makes you feel better.”

“It doesn’t, okay? Just drop it. I promised Marcus I’d finish his book and I’m going to do it, no matter the cost.”

“The cost to you? Or others?”

Liam stood abruptly, knocking the stool over backward. Before he could pick it up the door opened again.

Who now?

“How many people have keys to my place? I’ve got half a million bucks worth of computer equipment here.”

“It’s probably Helen. I made her a copy.”

“You gave your sister a key? I’m gonna change the locks,” Liam grumbled.

“Hi guys, I made some cookies. Thought I’d share,” Helen said as she walked into the kitchen. She wore bright-pink oven mitts and carried a metal tray with black blobs welded onto the surface. When her eyes flickered to Liam she dropped the tray, which clattered to the floor. Two of the black blobs managed to free themselves and shattered into a million fragments.

“You’re the second person to drop something when they’ve seen me. Is it really that bad?”

“No, no, it’s good, it’s very, very good,” Helen said, breathless. She bent down to sweep up the crumbs on the floor with her hand, her eyes never leaving Liam’s face.

“You’re making more of a mess, Helen,” David said, a note of exasperation in his voice. He picked up the tray and tossed it into the sink, then crossed to the closet across the room and retrieved the broom.

Still Helen stared at Liam.

“So, I need some advice on how to approach Lorelei,” Liam said.

“Tell her she’s too beautiful to sit alone,” David said as he emptied the dustpan into the garbage.

Liam grimaced. No wonder David hadn’t had a date in all the years he’d known him.

“I don’t think you need to say anything,” Helen said. Her gaze dropped to the floor. “Excuse me, I think I left the oven on.” She raced from the room, both Liam and David staring after her.

“Women are crazy. Are you sure you want to get involved with one?” David said as the door slammed behind Helen.

He picked up the jacket from the stool next to him and shrugged into it. “I’m not getting involved. Not really, anyway. Make sure you lock up and put the alarm on when you’ve finished trashing my kitchen. And leave a note telling Jason you made the mess. I’m not taking the rap for it.”

With another handful of M&M’s for good luck, Liam strode out the door. Time to put the first act in motion.

Chapter Three

Lorelei sat next to the window at the trendy wine bar. The chair opposite her was empty, for now. She’d arrived five minutes late, hoping Richard, her Internet date, would already be there waiting. She didn’t want to appear eager. Apparently, neither did he, and twenty minutes later she still sat alone. Picking up her phone from the table she checked again for a message. He had her email address but not her cell number. It had seemed too stupid to give a man she’d never met her phone number. At least with the email account she could block his messages if he annoyed her. Pity she hadn’t thought to get his. She was rusty at this blind date thing.

She stared out the window. People were emptying from office buildings as though getting their first taste of freedom after doing twenty years. A group of three junior execs in cheap suits pointed across the street to the bar as though discussing whether to go there first or home to their wives and girlfriends.

How much longer should she give him? Ten minutes? He’d said his office was in Oakland, but he had a meeting in San Fran today. Perhaps his meeting was running late. It didn’t bode well for her fundraising dinner if she couldn’t even get an Internet date to show.

Her phone vibrated on the table with an incoming text.

Where are you? Tried your home number.

Her mother’s number appeared on the call display.

I’m on a date, Lorelei texted back.

Then why are you writing me back? That’s rude.

He’s in the washroom.

Has he been in there long? Maybe he has a problem. When he gets back ask him if he eats enough fiber.

And this was why she didn’t let her dates meet her mother.

He’s back. Got to go.

She didn’t like lying to her mother, but if she knew her date hadn’t shown the inquisition would start.

“Can I get you another ginger ale?” A server stood next to her table, staring pointedly at Lorelei’s empty glass.

“Oh, um, I’ll wait another couple of minutes,” she said. She’d ordered the soda rather than a glass of wine because she’d wanted her wits about her when Richard arrived.

The waitress motioned toward the bar and Lorelei looked around at the former near-empty space, which had become crowded over the past half hour. Patrons hovered around the bar and all the other tables were occupied. “I will need you to order soon. We have other guests wanting a table.”

Lorelei picked her phone off the table and grabbed her bag from the floor. Before she could stand a deep male voice spoke.

“I’ll have a glass of merlot, 2008 Decoy if you have it. And for the lady?”

“The same,” Lorelei said. Her eyes followed the dark-blue-clad legs up past a trim waist and massive chest, to a face that would haunt her dreams for nights. When he smiled, a dimple formed in his left cheek. An Internet date who looked better than his profile picture. But he had brown eyes. Richard the architect was supposed to have blue eyes. This epitome of masculinity wasn’t her date.

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