Page 29 of Scrooge

“Oh. Well then, you should come,” I tell him, nodding, the two of us looking at each other, like my family isn’t all still standing right there.

“I’d like that,” he says, and I smile, feeling somewhat content. Oddly content.

The front door opens again, and a young family tentatively walks inside.

“Are you open?” the mother asks, and we all get our bearings as more people start to filter inside. The media frenzy out front has died down a little, and Jillian helps the customers while Mom and Dad get back to the office.

“Are you sure you are okay?” Alex asks me as we wander farther into the store, away from prying eyes.

“I’m fine. It was just a little unexpected,” I tell him honestly.

“Sorry. Laurent or I should have briefed you on that better. I will have security here twenty-four seven. Dan is available to drive you anywhere you need to go. No more taking the train. The media will just follow you and have a field day. Here’s my number. I should have already given it to you. Just call me if there are any other issues like today.” He slips me a card that has his number and Dan’s number, which I take and pocket immediately.

“I am surprised that people would be so interested in you and who you date,” I say, and his face hardens before he responds.

“Me too, but Laurent has started a bit of a spark, I think. I will speak to him,” he grits out, looking back out the window, clearly not happy. Slowly morphing back into work mode, he glances at his watch and then out the window again, almost like he is tucking the soft side of him back down and turning into the unlikeable billionaire who everyone thinks they know. I don’t want him to change, and so I think quickly, asking him the first thing I can think of that I’d like to know about him.

“What hobbies do you have?” I blurt.

“What?” he asks, looking at me like I am crazy. My question is obviously unexpected and a little out of left field.

“Well… you know that I paint. But I don’t know what you do for fun. So do you have any hobbies?” I ask again. “If my private life is going to be dissected through the gossip pages, I at least want to get to know the man who I am doing it for.”

“Work,” he answers firmly, and I chuckle.

“Anything else? Golf? Polo? Jet to the Bahamas at a moment's notice?” I tease him, having no idea what people like him do. People with money and freedom to go anywhere and do anything they wish.

“No. I work,” he confirms with a nod, and now I feel a little sorry for him. Doesn’t he have any fun in his life?

“Hmmmm. So can I pick our next date?” The smile on my face is genuine, because I can’t wait to get this guy out of his comfort zone. I step toward him, closing the distance between us, and he watches me carefully, his eyes not wavering from mine.

“I thought maybe dinner tonight?” he asks, taking a step forward too, and I pause as our toes touch, our bodies nearly flush. I take in a deep breath, smelling his now familiar aroma, as his eyes flick down to my chest before they look back at my face. I’m not sure what is happening, yet my body feels like it is betraying me with him at every possible moment. He clears his throat, causing my mind to snap back into place almost immediately.

“I have a better idea. I can be at your office after we close, and then we can take the train to—”

“No train,” he butts in.

“Fine. Dan can drive us to Benny’s Bowling Alley,” I tell him with a large grin.

“Bowling?” he confirms, narrowing his eyes.

“Yep!” I say, popping theP, taking some pleasure in how he squirms slightly.

“I don’t think—”

“You don’t need to think.Ithink it’s a great idea,” I say, my smile now almost taking over my face. I am now obsessed with the thought of seeing this suited man in bright-red and blue bowling shoes.

“But a fine dining dinner at the—”

“Benny’s has these mozzarella sticks that are sooooo good. Plus, their pub pretzels are to die for.” My mouth waters as I think about the food, and my need to go is now even stronger.

“Sounds like a heart attack waiting to happen,” he huffs out, and my eyes flick down his frame. There is no doubt that he is fit, but it is hard to gauge what’s underneath the shirt and suits he wears every day. Me, on the other hand, I am not what you would consider runway fit. My muffin top that sits at the top of my jeans is carefully hidden by the shirt I am wearing today. But it is worth it for Benny’s mozzarella sticks.

“It will be good for the media to see you doing something different. It will show them how in love you are with me. Besides, you owe me.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I nod toward the front windows at the few media left, and he sighs.

“Fine. I will pick you up here after work.” He says it like it pains him.

“Yes!” I do a wiggle dance, clapping my hands.

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