Page 23 of The Billionaire and the Virgin

Rob waited until after noon, and then he texted Marjorie’s phone.

You dead?

Her response came a few minutes later.Feel like it.

He laughed. Couldn’t help it. She wasn’t even pretending that she was fine, which was kind of adorable. He decided to skip the texting and called her instead.

“Mmmello?” Marjorie’s voice was husky, blurred with sleep.

“Glad to see you survived last night.” God damn, he sounded cheerful. Regular fucking sunshine right over here.

“Surviving is debatable,” she said. “My head feels like it wants to abdicate from the rest of my body.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you mix wine with the hard stuff.”

“Never again,” she moaned. “Never, ever again.”

“Eat some crackers and drink some water,” he told her. “I’d tell you hair of the dog, but I don’t know if your stomach could handle it.”

“Crackers. Got it.” She sighed heavily. “Now to find some crackers.”

“I’ll have the front desk run some up to you.” Or one of his assistants. “Don’t get out of bed. Just rest.”

“You’re an angel,” she said in a soft voice. “I’m so, so sorry about last night. I really don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s all right. I still had a good time.” Though his best time was this morning, when she peeked at his junk. “You were entertaining,” he said, teasing her.

“I don’t remember.”

No? Time for some fun. “I especially liked the part when you flashed the bartender in exchange for a free drink.”

She was utterly silent on the other end of the line.

“Marjorie?”

“Yes?” Her voice was small.

“That was a joke.”

Her moan of relief was audible, followed by a giggle... and then another moan. “Please don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”

He snorted. “You still on for date number two?”

“You sure you want to go out with me again?” she sounded surprised.

“I do.” Which should have surprised him, too. But he kept thinking about that curious peek from this morning. That little action trumped any amount of vomit. “We’ll go someplace low-key. Wear jeans, and I promise there will be no alcohol.”

“I think I can handle that,” she said. “If you’re sure...”

“More than sure,” he told her, amused.

“Where are we going, then?”

“It’s a surprise.” Because he honestly had no idea.

“Okay, then. See you in the lobby. Just let me know what time.”

“Will do.” He hung up, thoughtful, Where could he take her? They did dinner—and it had turned out terribly. Not to the fucking beach. He still had nightmares about that shit. It had to be someplace that one of her other friends wouldn’t run into her. Just because Marjorie didn’t know who he was didn’t mean the others didn’t. He wanted to avoid that conversation for as long as possible. Long enough to show Marjorie that he was a good, wholesome guy.

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