Page 96 of Bet On Me, Daddy

Beside her, Ivy’s mouth dropped open. “Dee!”

“Don’t worry about it, blossom. There’s no way I’m losing this bet. What are your terms, Ruby?”

She wished, desperately, that she hadn’t finished off her mimosa. If for no other reason than it would give her time tothink.

“Same. All my tips, for one week.” It would put a dent in her savings, but with her new job it wouldn’t be a very large one.

And it didn’t matter, anyway. Because no matter what Cordelia said, this was one bet Ruby was absolutely certain she’d win.

Because there was simply no way she’d walked into this trap a second time. Beckett might be overbearing and bossy and demanding, but there was absolutely no chance in hell he was in love with her.

None.

CHAPTER 32

BECKETT

Ruby wasn’t answering her phone. Texts, calls, voicemails, nothing seemed to be getting through. She’d been short with him when he’d talked to her after her day out with the girls, which he’d chalked up to her not feeling well. But now he’d gone nearly twenty-four hours without hearing from her, and he was ready to say fuck the meeting and drive over to her apartment to get to the bottom of her behavior.

“You ready for this?”

To Beckett’s left, Jonas tugged at his tie, straightening it again for the tenth time since they sat down. Telling himself he’d deal with the Ruby problem after dinner, Beckett slid his phone in his pocket. If she knew what was good for her, he’d have at least a text waiting for him when he checked it again.

“I am,” he said, raising a brow at the painfully nervous Jonas. “Are you?”

“Me?” Pausing with his fingers still gripping the knot of his tie, his eyes a little wild, Jonas cleared his throat. “I was born ready. Why? Do I look like I’m not ready?”

“You look like you could use a drink.” Beckett nudged an untouched glass of whiskey closer to Jonas. “Take a sip, a deep breath, and calm the fuck down. We’ve got this.”

As if his words had conjured the man himself, Preston Kingsley chose that moment to walk through the front door of the restaurant. His big, booming laugh cut above the din of the other patrons as he chatted with the maître d’ before being shown to their table.

“Showtime,” Beckett muttered as he rose to his feet to greet their guest with a welcoming smile. “Preston. Great to finally meet you. I’m Beckett Stone, and this is my associate, Jonas Caldwell.”

“Beckett.” Reaching across the table, Preston grasped Beckett’s hand in a firm, if unexpectedly sweaty grip. “Holden’s told me a lot about you. I’m looking forward to hearing all about what your firm can do for me. But that’s business, and business can wait until after we eat.”

“Agreed. I took the liberty of ordering a few different hors d'oeuvres for the table. They should be out soon.”

Settling into his seat across from Beckett, Preston beamed approvingly. “A man who takes initiative. I like it.”

Score one for Stone Investments.Just as the thought popped into his mind, a waiter appeared, placing a glass in front of Preston with a flourish. “Your old fashioned, sir.”

Eyebrows raising, Preston lifted the glass and sipped. “And you’ve done your homework, I see.”

“I always do, when it matters.” Beckett lifted his glass, toasting his new companion before taking another sip of his whiskey.

“And that’s the Southern touch I’ve been missing.” Despite his stated desire not to discuss business before they ate, Preston shook his head, his expression turning dark. “Those New England bastards, they just see the money. There’s no personaltouch, you know? I want to work with people who see me as more than just a number on a ledger.”

“You would certainly get that from us,” Jonas finally spoke up, his voice only a smidge shriller than usual. “I like to think all of our clients feel like more than just a number when they invest with us.”

“Alice Carrigan speaks highly of your firm. As does my old friend Holden.” Preston’s smile turned smug. “But I suppose you know that, since he’s the reason you got this meeting.”

Beckett shrugged off the insult of Preston pointing out he wouldn’t have gotten the meeting without Holden’s help. It was true, after all, so there was no point pouting about it. “I like to think our reputation speaks for itself. But yes, Holden is a good friend and I’m grateful he was willing to put in a good word for us with you.”

“I’m sure you are.” Settling back in his chair, Preston raked his gaze over Beckett’s face. “Are you married, Stone?”

“Ah, no.”Not anymore. But that kind of grief was far more intimate than a meeting like this warranted.

“That’s a shame. Every man needs a good woman warming his bed.” Preston chuckled, sipping at his old fashioned. “I have a different one for every state I own a home in.”

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