Page 25 of The Billionaire Bodyguard Next Door

But despite his gorgeous face, Clark Kent glasses, and overall goodness, there wasn't a spark to be found between us.

Well, on my end anyway.

It was rather unfortunate actually.

He liked me.A lot.

Breaking up with him felt akin to kicking a puppy.

Yet when he suggested we make things more serious between us, I knew I couldn't do it. Couldn't keep stringing him along like that.

Not when I wished he would swap his clean-cut demeanor and tailored suits for scruff, tattoos, and leather. Because dammit if Beck hadn't actually ruined me for all men. Well, him and theotherman.

The breakup with Carter was months ago. Plenty of time for him to get over me and move on, and yet he’d continued to reach out, to maintain that connection between us.

Monroe lifted her brow. “So, are you going to go see him or do I need to come up with an excuse?”

I bit my tongue, tempted to have her do just that. But that wouldn’t be a very nice thing to do and dammit if this man wasn’t the nicest man on the planet.

“He said he’s been trying to reach you, but he can’t seem to get through…” She phrased it as a statement, but I heard the question in it.

“I blocked him. So sue me.” And now I'm a defensive asshole.Shit. “Sorry, I didn't mean it to come out that way.”

Monroe smirked. “You're free to block all the men. And if youdon'twant to go out there, boss, that’s fine, I’ll handle it. If youdowant to see him, then I can go with you. Be the backup you need.”

I nodded. “Let's do that.”

“And you say the safe word and I'll get you out of there.”

I cackled. “Deal.”

The safe word was something Monroe and I had come up with when she started working for me.

Foliage.

If it was good enough for Michael Scott inThe Office, it's good enough for me.

I fished through the bottom of my designer bag for my Badass Bombshell Red lipstick, using the small vanity in the corner of my office to check I hadn't smudged it anywhere. It gave me that extra boost of confidence to make sure Carter knew where things stood between us.

I threw my shoulders back. “Let's do this.”

We wove through the back hallway until we emerged at the main floor of the club. The room pulsed around me as the DJ played their set from the booth. We took the long way, Monroe leading me around the floor to give me some extra time before arriving in our lounge area. Not quite VIP status, but an elevated experience for people looking to be in the mix without being smack dab in the middle of it.

I sighed at the sight of him. Carter Huntington. Handsome as ever in a fitted Armani suit, hair perfectly coiffed, and glasses sliding down his classic Roman nose.

The antithesis of Beck Bennet in every way. I picked him for that specifically.

We’d met at the Sexual Assault Survivors Network Gala last year.

Gigi had always encouraged me to network and because of my past, I found myself naturally drawn to the Network’s mission. I’d been supporting them ever since, starting small with my donations and growing my financial support when I could, offering my time when I couldn’t. After some gentle prodding, I’d been roped into helping the gala planning committee last year.

The director of the Network had placed me at a table with Carter and a bunch of local politicians decades older than us. His sweet smile endeared me to him right away. We ended up chatting most of the night, just the two of us.

Carter was clean cut, nice, and earnest.

He came from money, but he loved academia. He served as an adjunct professor at NYU but occasionally helped out his parents by attending these events. It didn't hurt that he sometimes convinced others to patronize the university's research.

Frankly, I didn't even realize he was hitting on me until he asked for my number at the end of the night.

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