Page 2 of Bargain with the Bachelor
Kristal’s father, Richard Bianco, was a wildly successful attorney and a partner in the state’s most prestigious law firm. If there was a high-profile case in Rhode Island, his name was bound to be attached to it. He’d made a fortune.
Losing your speech and a good portion of your mobility would be devastating for anyone, but for a man whose claim to fame was making jury-winning persuasive arguments, it had to be doubly so.
Kristal’s gaze flitted to the side then up as she appeared to blink back tears. Her long lashes fluttered rapidly as she swallowed.
“Yeah. It’s hard—on all of us. I hate seeing him so unhappy… and feeling so helpless to make it better.”
My heart tumbled toward Kristal. It killed me to seeherso unhappy.
Though she’d been a member of the rich kids’ crowd back in school, she’d always been kind to me. Of course, I’d realized it for what it was—common courtesy and simple friendliness—more than I could say for a lot of her friends.
Obviously, I’d never asked her out. She would never have seen me as dating material. She’d been so far out of my league it had practically made me lightheaded to even think about scaling those lofty heights.
So I’d admired her from afar and mustered all my courage just to meet her eyes whenever she’d offered a friendly “hello” in the hallway or classroom. Now, though, I instinctively reached for her hand, compelled to offer some small comfort.
“I’m so sorry you’re going through this. I know how hard it is.”
She squeezed my hand and gave an uncomfortable laugh, withdrawing her fingers to swipe quickly under her eyes.
“Thanks. You’re probably one of the few people who does. We both lost our mothers at such a young age. I guess I’m lucky to have had my dad for this long.”
Her soft words knocked all the air from my lungs. She remembered.
It stunned me that she’d paid enough attention to a guy from the poor side of town, a skinny math geek, that she’d been aware of anything personal about me, much less my mother’s death from breast cancer. I fervently hoped shedidn’tknow about my father’s condition as well.
I swallowed hard, getting a little choked up myself. “Yeah, well, you know these things do get at least a little easier with time. Not perfect, but better.”
She nodded. “I just feel like I need to spend every minute with him, you know? While I can. He was always working so much, this is the first chance I’ve ever had to spend significant time with him. I didn’t even want to leave him to come here tonight, but Margot is the chairwoman, and she insisted I be here. I’m just trying to get through the night, honestly.”
Taking in a deep breath and letting it out, Kristal shook her head and put on a bright smile.
“Let’s talk about something happy. Like your success. It’s amazing what you’ve built. I read somewhere that your company was just valuated in the upper millions.”
She’s read about me?My heart kicked back into a rapid rhythm, my nerves resuming their jittery dance. A sudden scramble of thoughts started a raucous barroom brawl in my mind.
Maybe this is my chance to impress her.
No, don’t brag.
But… shedidask. Maybe if she understands how successful I’ve become, it would even the playing field. She’s used to successful men.
“Billions, actually,” I corrected, attempting a suave smile. “The Wall Street Journal called Chipp the most innovative, must-have tech of the past two decades.”
Kristal’s smile dimmed. Her tone flattened. “It must be exciting to see all your hard work pay off.”
Her eyes drifted from mine and across the vast lawn, searching for something. I was losing her attention.
“And you’re leasing the old Weston place,” she said, sounding almost bored now. “Are the renovations as spectacular as they say they are?”
“It’s pretty nice.”
My shrug masked a growing sense of desperation. I felt like a kid who’d been picked first for the kickball team and then put on the bench without warning. What had gone wrong?
“We’ve been comfortable there,” I continued, then doubled down on my attempt to impress her. “But I’m looking into buying my own place. Considering that castle on Atlantic Avenue with nine acres. It’s only nineteen million.”
Not quite sure what orifice I’d pulledthatone out of, other than the fact I’d driven down Atlantic Avenue yesterday and had noticed the For Sale sign.
Fuckwas I nervous. Honestly, I’d have no use for a place with ten bedrooms, sixteen baths, and an ocean-view tennis court. I didn’t evenplaytennis.
