Page 99 of Misdeeds of a Billionaire
The little cafe in Georgetown buzzed with life. The beautiful weather—like an Indian summer except in the winter instead of fall—drew people out of their homes and out into the open. The outside seating was at full capacity, soft music drifting along with the chatter and laughter of Washingtonians.
“Those people are leaving,” Billie exclaimed, tugging me and Ares along like our redemption sat at that table. We must not have been fast enough because we got there at the same time as another gentleman.
We turned to face the stranger, when surprise coasted through me. I never would’ve expected to run into him here.
“Marco,” Billie and I exclaimed at the same time.
“Maddy. Billie.” Marco’s smooth drawl filled the air. I hadn’t seen him since my last visit to D.C. when he came to visit me at George Washington. The day that altered the course of my life in such a major way. The day Byron believed I lost the baby because of a not-so-small lie told to him. His girlfriend at that time worked there and he was visiting her. His modeling career took off right around that time, and he married shortly after. We kept in touch for a few years and then life just got too busy. I hadn’t talked to him for years now.
His hands came around my waist and I squealed in delight as he lifted me into the air. He landed a loud smooch on my cheek, his lips lingering a heartbeat too long.
“Girl, you’re looking good,” he told me in French.
“Oh my gosh, what are you doing here?” Marco was still gorgeous. I’d seen him over the years in different fashion magazines. “I thought you were in Rome or Paris.”
“I came back last week. This is my home base.”
“I always thought you’d live on a yacht, lounging around in your speedo,” I joked.
He threw his head back and laughed. “Speedo, huh?” His sculpted cheekbones, dark eyes, and dark hair pulled a lot of women’s attention our way. “Trying to get me naked?”
I rolled my eyes. “You wish.” He grinned. “So what made you pick D.C. for your home base?”
“Remember, my wife works in the city.” I remembered her. She treated me after the accident. She was Tristan’s older sister. “I travel to New York, L.A., and Milan, but always come back here.”
“So you’re a big shot,” Billie said lightly, completely unimpressed. “A famous and sought-after model.”
“What she’stryingto say, Marco, is we’re happy for you. Congratulations.”
The cafe was bustling, and, emphasizing just how cutthroat people were about snagging a seat, another couple came up to our table. “Are you leaving?” the woman asked.
“Actually, we just arrived.” Marco signaled for us to sit down while I offered an apologetic smile. Once I had Ares settled in his chair and we were all seated, it took no time for the efficient server to take our order.
“Now tell me, what are you doing here? I’m surprised to see you in the city, Maddy.” It felt like a different lifetime when my friends called me Maddy. Not even my sister did anymore. “Your annoying sister, yes. She was always the one for the big-city life.” His hand landed on mine, covering it completely. I stiffened and counted until five before pulling my hand back with the pretense of fiddling with Ares’s menu.
“I avoid the cities you’re in,” Billie deadpanned. “But you have a tendency to stalk my sister, so here we are.”
“You’re just jealous nobody is stalking you.” Marco’s tone was on the colder side, which didn’t really surprise me. Billie never did have much patience for the guy.
“Actually, nobody at this table wants to be stalked,” I remarked, jumping to my sister’s defenses. “Billie has been by my side. But she’ll be chasing her dream now.”
“By the way, did you hear Odette got married?” Billie grinned like a shark that caught her bait. She just couldn’t help herself.
“He’s great,” Ares beamed.
Marco’s eyes snapped to me as I took a sip of my sparkling water. A hint of displeasure or something like it flashed in his gaze. He could be slightly overprotective sometimes.
“Really?” he questioned, his tone not as friendly. I nodded. “What? How?”
“It just happened.”Literally. The words felt foreign on my tongue, like it was someone else’s life I was telling him about. I swallowed, then smiled. “I’m looking for a job, actually.”
“Well, you might be in luck,” Marco stated, grinning smugly. When I gave him a blank stare, he continued, “My wife is the head of George Washington Hospital now. She treats patients occasionally, but her main concerns involve having the most qualified staff in her hospital.”
My eyes widened. “What? No way! Good for her.”
The last time I was at that hospital, she was working her way through the ranks. It was only a matter of time before she became the head of the hospital.
One thing we never discussed was the age of Marco’s wife. She was about seven years older than him, but it seemed to work for them. No judgment, as long as they were both happy. He talked about their homes in the city, on the Riviera, and even a vacation home in Colorado. That was one thing Marco could be counted on for. The guy couldtalk.
