Page 26 of Black Tie Billionaire
Ten
Shay grimaced at the vibration of her cell phone in her back pocket as she served up an order of green papaya salad and tom yum to another hungry customer standing outside Bridgette’s food truck. Her best friend’s delicious Thai cuisine made hers one of the more popular trucks stationed at Hyde Park during the lunch hour.
Bridgette was a wonderful chef, and when she’d proposedstarting a food truck business, Shay had insisted on investing. The love of food and cooking were just a couple things the two of them bonded over. And because they were such good friends, when Bridgette had called this morning, frantic because she’d been down a person, Shay had been more than willing to jump in and help. It hadn’t been the first time she’d volunteered, and if Bridgette needed her,it wouldn’t be the last. Just another reason Trevor resented her “lowbrow” relationship with Bridgette.
Good thing that she’d never told him about cooking and serving on her food truck.
Another insistent buzz of her cell, and she sighed. She knew who was calling her.
Gideon.
He’d left a message about joining him for lunch about a half hour after Bridgette’s panicked call. She’dshot a text off to him, letting him know meeting wouldn’t be possible. But had he accepted that? Hell no. Well, that fell under the category of His Problem.
Yes, she’d agreed to attend events with him, but she’d also meant it when she told him he didn’t own her. She was more than willing to accompany him to dinners, lunches, parties, whatever. But she also needed notice, and not just a couplehours. She had a life and refused to hand it over to him.
She was already an indentured servant to the Neal name and reputation. He wouldn’t become another master.
You’re mine.
Those two words had played over and over in her head like a rabid hamster in a wheel. It’d been two days since she’d left his penthouse, and she hadn’t been able to erase the declaration from her mind.
Or deny the spark of desire that had erupted into a conflagration inside her. Her thighs had clenched at the dark, sensual note so dominant in his voice. And in that moment, she swore she could feel the heavy, thrilling possession of his body taking hers, filling hers.
Claiming hers.
God, it wasn’t fair. Not the words he uttered to her. Not the out-of-control reaction of her body to his.
She didn’t have to pretend to know his touch. No, she had intimate knowledge of it.
Which was why she’d reacted so strongly—and unwisely—to the “moonbeam” he’d so carelessly tossed at her. That endearment had been special to her, meant for her alone. But it hadn’t been. God only knew how many women he’d said it to.
She wasn’t special.
And damn, that had hurt. More than it should’ve.
Another buzz, and she gritted her teeth. Probably a threatening message this time. The tenacity that had made him so successful as a businessman was working the hell out of her nerves.
Six months. She just had to hold on for six months. Then she would be free. From both this “agreement” with Gideon and from under the yoke of the Neal name.
Gideon didn’t know the significance of hertime limit. In that time, she would turn twenty-six and be in control of the trust funds from her mother and maternal grandmother. With that came financial independence. She wouldn’t need her paychecks from RemingtonNeal to help finance Leida Investments. With the money from her trust funds, she would have more than enough capital, and while she wouldn’t totally be able to escape the assumptions becauseof her last name, she would no longer be under the restrictions and expectations of her brother and her family reputation.
From birth, she’d been under a man’s thumb: her father’s, her brother’s and now Gideon’s.
In just six months, she would be liberated from them all.
“Here you go, babe.” Bridgette handed her an order of pad thai, disrupting her thoughts of emancipation. “That’snumber 66.”
“Thanks.” Shay accepted it, bagged it and carried it to the window. “Here you go.” She passed the food to the customer with a smile and turned to the next person in line. “Hi, how can I—”
Oh hell.
Gideon.
Her eyes widened as she stared at his cold, harsh expression. “What are you doing here?” she asked, and in spite of the “you don’t own me” speech she’d just deliveredto herself, apprehension quivered through her at the anger glittering in his gaze.
“Wasting my time hunting you down, apparently,” he ground out. “You’re already reneging on our arrangement, and it hasn’t even been two days. I warned you about thinking I would dance—”
“Hey, man, order and move on. Some of us have to get back to work,” someone yelled from in back of Gideon. And when severalmore grumbles of agreement followed, Gideon whipped his head around. Immediately, the mumbling ceased.
