Page 49 of The Grumpy Billionaire
I looked over at him for the first time since we’d gotten into the car together. “This week. I can’t do this. I know you didn’t get what you wanted all those years ago. That must be hard for a man in your position—I’m sure you’re used to getting your way. But I’m sorry, job or not, you can’t force me to talk about things I don’t want to talk about. I agreed to prepare you for an interview, not to conduct an autopsy of our ‘puppy love.’”
I spit the last two words out in a disdainful drawl—I had to get him to back off.
Reid winced at my deliberate downgrading of our relationship. Then a blank mask fell over his face, and he relaxed back into the driver’s seat. He said nothing.
“I’ll talk to Rob tomorrow. I’ll tell him he can just fire me if he—” I started.
“No,” Reid interrupted. “Don’t do that. You’re right. I overstepped my bounds. We agreed to keep things strictly professional, and I let my…curiosityget the better of me. I apologize. It won’t happen again.”
I narrowed my eyes as I studied him. “So, you’re ready to do the interview now… and drop this whole itinerary thing?”
“Oh no. The itinerary stays. But I won’t bring up our past again. In fact, we can pretend we just met, if you like. You can go back to calling me Mr. Mancini.”
He dropped his tone to a low murmur. “And I’ll call you Miss Neely.”
The way he said my name was so laced with mocking seduction it gave me a shiver that went straight down my middle and melted warmly in my lap.
“That won’t be necessary. Obviously, we know each other too well to go by titles. But if we’re going to continue with this, the conversation between us—and everything else—has to stay strictly impersonal.”
His face broke into a tolerant grin, his eyes staying on the road ahead. “Nothing but the weather and the Red Sox,” he promised.
“And pre-interview preparation,” I added.
The grin grew wider. He sent a quick glance my way. “Of course. That’s the whole reason we’re here, isn’t it?”
Something in his tone made me wonder if Reid really understood that as well as he claimed to.
SIXTEEN
Afternoon Show
Mara
Monday’s itinerary instructed me to meet Reid at the Eastport Bay Harbor at two p.m. with a seaworthy wardrobe and a pair of sunglasses.
Being prone to motion sickness, I’d always been more of a stay-on-the-beach-and-enjoy-looking-at-the-ocean person rather than a boater. But the idea of spending a day on Reid’s yacht made my stomach queasy for another reason entirely.
I’d hardly slept the previous night. Instead, my mind had replayed our kiss over and over again, refusing to stop even when I’d drifted into bouts of fitful sleep. In fact, my dreams carried things even further.
I’d woken up time and time again, restless, sweating, and totally turned on, believing I was in his arms, in his bed. The Reid in my dreams wasn’tmyReid, the teenaged one, but this new, older and even sexier version.
Unfortunately, being with him had also been even better than when we were younger and had more enthusiasm than experience. How was I supposed to manage being with him today after “sleeping” with him all night long?
I had no choice but to try. Rob had called early in the afternoon to check in, making sure I was sufficiently buttering up our ‘invaluable’ interview subject.
“Lee tells me the pre-interview meeting went well yesterday. I just want you to know that we all appreciate what you’re doing for the station, Mara,” Rob said. “The GM is very pleased. And I have Sue already working on some killer promos.”
“Sure. Okay, whatever. I guess I’d better go—I have to babysit a billionaire.”
“Go get ’em, Mara. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”
I showed up for “work” right on time, reporting to the Eastport Bay Yachting Center Marina in the center of the historic downtown area. I found the slip number Reid had given me, and there in the middle of the charming seaside resort was a modern behemoth of a boat. It had company.
Huge yachts lounged side-by-side in the sun like overfed tourists on the deck of a cruise ship. Reid’s was by no means the largest, but it was still enormous and probably cost more than the mansion I’d grown up in.
A narrow ramp spanned the distance from the boat to the dock. As I stepped up onto it, Reid’s voice called out to me.
“Good afternoon. Ready to come aboard?”
