Page 2 of Beauty and her Billionaire Beast
“See herwhere?”
“In the crowd justnow.”
He shakes his head and slaps my shoulder. “Are you outta your mind? Actually, don’t answer that. I’ll chalk up the question to winner’s blur. Isabelle? Hell no. You’d never find a woman like that in a place likethis.”
“I thought I sawher.”
“Take my advice, dude. Forget about her. You’re better off without thedrama.”
“What?” I look across the top of the car as he throws my gear in thetrunk.
“Never mind. I’m not getting into your woman problems after a win like that. Anyway, did you see Big Baby drop to the ground like a fucking felled tree? Jesus, man! I don’t know where you foundall that fucking power. It was a fucking honor towitness.”
“Drive me back to theHamptons.”
Without another word, Foster runs a satisfied hand through his wavy black hair, turns the engine and gets moving. I decide I’m not interested in changing the subject back to Isabelle. Not with him. How Isabelle and I fell apart so fast is the last thing I want to think about right after winninga fight against such a viciousopponent.
Foster goes quiet as well, and after a ninety-minute drive in perfect reverent silence, he drops me off outside the main house in theHamptons.
“Later,” he says as I open the cardoor.
“Yeah.” I head across the driveway, giving a polite nod to one of the cleaners leaving through the front door. As I walk to the pool house, all I wantis for this throbbing ache to last as long as it takes for my head to hit the pillow and sleep to come. I don’t want my last coherent thought to be of her, or the fact that the last time I was here, in my bedroom, under the sheets, it was with her, and now, she’s never comingback.
